#Mine is lucilla I lover so much

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

The Emperor’s Angel

Emperor Geta x General Acacius’ Daughter!Reader

warnings: I don’t know jack shit about the Roman Empire, so we’re just going to pretend that I do 💀 Let’s pretend for the sake of this fic that all the children in Rome are on a lovely little field trip for the day 💀 18+ only! Minors DNI! This fic isn’t for you! possessive!Emperor Geta, Geta uses a pet name (Angel) for Reader instead of her real name, death threats, unprotected p in v smut, rough sex, public sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink, creampie, profanity, etc

summary: After your father’s attempt to hand you off to a gladiator to marry just to get out of fighting him to the death, your true lover, Emperor Geta, decides it’s best to show your father and all of Rome who your heart and body truly belongs to. Him.

Anxiety and rage coursed through your veins as you slipped away from the rowdy Colosseum to escape the ordeal that your father, the General of the Roman army, had gotten you into.

He was challenged by Lucius, son of Lucilla, to fight him in the Colosseum to the death, but instead of agreeing and battling him like a real warrior, he offered you up instead. Not to fight in his place, no, but to give you up to marry Lucius as some sort of bullshit peace offering, and much to your dismay, Lucius agreed to the offer.

There was only one problem with that, you belonged to Emperor Geta.

You and the Emperor had been seeing each other behind your father’s back for several months now, quite close to nearing the one year mark, and with how possessive he was of you, you just knew there was no way in Hell he was letting you go to Lucius of all people.

You had seen the rage in your lover’s gaze when he stared at your father in disbelief, Emperor Geta shocked that your father cared more about his own life rather than his precious daughter. Emperor Caracalla had glanced over at you with a weary look in his eyes, knowing this wasn’t going to end well for both Lucius and your dad considering his brother’s short temper and sadistic tendencies.

That’s when you had fled from the Colosseum and headed towards your chambers in the palace, not wanting to stick around and witness what events would unfold after Lucius agreed to marry you, nor wanting to face your father after he handed you over to someone you despised. There was absolutely no way you were marrying that man, especially since your heart wholeheartedly belonged to Emperor Geta in all his sadistic glory.

Little did you know, he was in hot pursuit of you after screaming in your father’s face that you belonged to him and that no one was to take his precious angel away from him. He demanded your father accept Lucius’ original challenge or he would have him put to death either way.

You barely made it to your chambers before a firm grasp on your upper arm was spinning you around in a flash. Your gaze met the fuming orbs of your lover, his pupils completely overtaken by the rage he felt towards your father and his inconsiderate act of defiance.

“And where do you think you’re running off to, Angel? You’re going to miss such an entertaining battle between your disgrace of a father and that useless peasant Lucius.” His grin was sickening and you’d be fibbing if you denied the fact that it had your cunt flooding with arousal.

“I couldn’t stand to look at my father any longer after he pulled that stunt.” You scoffed, your hands resting on the breastplate of Geta’s gold plated armor. “Who the fuck does he think he is? What makes him think I would want to marry Lucius of all people? If only he knew my heart belongs to you, my perfect Emperor.”

“Oh he does now, my love. Everyone does. I had no choice but to reveal our long kept secret because there was absolutely no way I was giving you away to that peasant. You’re mine, Angel, and no one will ever take you away from me.” Geta’s arms wrapped firmly around your waist now, pressing your hips flush against him as he gazed down at you.

“I’m yours, Geta.” You promised, bringing one of your hands up from where it rested on his chest plate and reaching to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing along his cheekbone before you were leaning up to kiss him deeply.

Geta immediately kissed you harder, more possessively, one arm wrapping tighter around you while his other hand moved to grasp at your ass through your royal robe and gown. “How about we show all of Rome who the fuck you belong to.” He rasped into the space between your mouths, pulling a low moan from your throat as he gave your ass a squeeze. “We’ll force your father to watch as I desecrate his poor daughter’s precious little cunt.”

You whimpered at that, knowing that meant Geta was going to ruthlessly fuck you with zero remorse. Not that you minded, you absolutely loved it when he fucked you as though you were nothing but a fuck toy. You knew that he loved you and cared about you, you were truly the only other thing in this world aside from power that meant anything to him, sometimes he just couldn’t help but to take his sadistic tendencies out on you. It’s a good thing you were able to handle it.

“Please,” you whispered against his lips, your tongue tracing along his bottom one. “I want them all to see that I’m yours and yours alone.”

“That’s my good Angel.” Geta gave your ass a smack before he was lifting you up to carry you into his own chambers, making sure the doors were secured before making his way onto his balcony where he set you back down. The balcony overlooked the entire Colosseum, so it was the perfect place to fuck you for all to see without anyone getting a glimpse of your goods. They were for his eyes only. “Take off your fucking garments.”

You moaned at his demand, immediately removing every single article of clothing that adorned your breathtaking body and tossing them to the ground without a care of whether they got dirty or not. Geta removed his white and gold embellished robe before laying it across the edge of the balcony rail, wanting to make sure you had some sort of padding while he bent you over it to fuck you.

Next to go was his gold-plated armor, carelessly tossing it atop your pile of clothes before he was working at freeing his aching cock from beneath his tunic. “Bend over the railing, Angel.” He commanded, giving his thick veiny cock a few strokes while he positioned himself behind where you obediently bent over for him, his cock twitching in his grasp over the fact that you were completely bare naked compared to him.

“EYES UP HERE, ROME!” Geta bellowed out towards the Colosseum crowd, all eyes suddenly shifting towards where the two of you were present on his expansive balcony. “YOU’RE ALL TO WATCH AS I CLAIM MY FUTURE BRIDE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU! ANYONE WHO DOESN’T FOLLOW THAT ORDER WILL BE PUT TO DEATH BY MY ROYAL GUARDS!”

Your father’s blood was boiling seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it because Geta wouldn’t hesitate to have him killed. He thought that maybe Geta forced you to be with him and put into this situation, but little did your father know, you wanted this and were in on the whole thing.

“Hold tight, Angel.” Geta murmured in your ear, waiting until your hands were gripping around the stone rail of his balcony before forcing his cock inside you in one hard thrust forward, punching the breath right out of you. “YOU SEE, ROME, THIS WOMAN IS MINE. SHE’S BEEN MINE FOR NEARLY A YEAR AND NO ONE IS GOING TO TAKE HER FROM ME!”

You screamed out as his pace started out with zero remorse just as you anticipated, your head thrown back and eyes rolled towards the back of your skull while you took every harsh nudge of his cock against your sweet spots. Tears sprang from your eyes when he tightly fisted his fingers through your hair and forced your head back so he could gaze upon your features as he fucked you, a twisted grin stretching across his lips.

“OH, IF ONLY YOU COULD SEE HOW BREATHTAKING HER FACE LOOKS WHILE SHE TAKES MY COCK, GENERAL ACACIUS! CAN YOU HEAR HOW SHE SCREAMS FOR ME? ONLY FOR ME?” Geta sneered as his gaze flicked towards your father, staring directly at him while he abused your cunt just the way you liked it. His grip on your hip was bruising while the one in your hair continued pulling tears from your eyes, knowing by your pleasured noises and the occasional clench around his cock that you were enjoying the pain.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moaned lewdly as you gave another clench around him, a guttural moan erupting from Geta’s throat in response.

“Not until I breed you, Angel, until you’re so full of my cum that you’re destined to give me an heir.” Geta rasped into your ear as he continued pounding away inside your soaked cunt, his cock and balls drenched from how much you were dripping for him. He grinned when his mention of breeding you made you clench even tighter around him, his hand releasing your hair so he could clasp it around your throat. “You like the sound of that, huh?”

“Breed me! I’ll give you all the heirs you want! I’ll be your good little Empress!” You squealed as you gazed back at him through heavily lidded eyes, hiking one of your legs up onto the balcony railing so that he had a better angle. You screamed even louder as the new angle had his cock slamming against your cervix with every forward thrust, knowing there was no way you were going to be able to last for much longer. “Breed me! Breed me! Please, my love, breed me!”

“Gods!” Geta roared as he used both hands to get an extra bruising grip on your waist while pounding away inside you, tossing his head back when he felt his knot snap and spilling thick, sticky loads of his cum into your womb.

He didn’t let up on his thrusts, not stopping until he came two more times before finally letting you cum for him, your orgasm so overpowering from how much he’d edged you before his fingers finally gave your touch starved bundle of nerves what they needed, that he had to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from falling when your one knee keeping you upright buckled beneath you.

He held you in his arms after he’d pulled out of you until you finally came down from your high, dropping your leg down from where you had propped it on the railing so you could spin around to grab his face and pull him into a starved kiss, not paying any mind to the thousands of eyes still watching the two of you. “I love you, Geta. You really want to make me your wife?”

“Angel, I wanted to make you my wife the moment I first laid eyes on you. You have no idea how ecstatic I was when I realized you want me just as much as I want you.” His own hands reached to cup your face, his thumbs gentle as they brushed against your cheeks, contrast to how he just fucked you in front of the entirety of Rome. “I love you, my sweet Angel, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.”

You kissed him again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed yourself against him. “Take me inside your chambers to breed me some more? And leave the balcony doors open so everyone can hear as you fuck their future Empress some more.”

“That’s my girl.” Geta groaned, lifting you up to carry you back inside and lay you down onto his bed where he fucked several more loads of his cum inside you, this time letting you cum right along with him.

All of Rome now knew that General Acacius’ daughter was off limits, which you were quite thankful for because you hated the unwanted attention from other men throughout the Roman Empire. None of them compared to Emperor Geta, you preferred his level of sadist over any other personality trait in the world. He may have been one evil man, but he had a soft spot for you and you only and that itself made being with him worth it.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 🩷

Fic tag list: @jasminelafleur @nailbatanddungeon

[five-miles-over]

‘Aftermath’ Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky (Commodus x OC)

Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here

Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here

Read Part 3: Point of No Return here

Read Part 4: Look Down here

Summary: While in the palace, Caesonia ponders about her own test of courage and fidelity to her father. Meanwhile, Commodus finds himself attracted to his Pink Fairy when he learns about her past.

Warning: angst, obsession, and also a bit of fluff at the end.

People should know when they’ve been conquered, her father used to say. Caesonia looked out of her tiny window, watching the orange and yellow rays fall from the concrete and presumably into the horizon. Of course, when he said those words, he usually referred to Germanic barbarians, not young women.

Caesonia’s fingers dawdled near the cold wall, tracing abstract patterns against the grey material. Didn’t philosophers used to call life one big prison that houses all men? They spoke of a metaphorical one, while she was in a real one.

That wasn’t to say that her prison was akin to a cell in the palace’s dungeon - it was a bit more spacious and she had a blanket to cover herself with. Would you be proud of me, father? Being a dutiful citizen and serving my sentence as I must?, Caesonia thought longingly. Or have I disappointed you being a meek coward this whole time?

All Caesonia had ever wanted was to make her father satisfied to call her his progeny, despite never being the son he so desperately craved for. Perhaps he would’ve agreed that she did the right thing by remaining in her prison day after day. She didn’t seem to be giving the emperor or his guards any sort of trouble, and for a month, all was well.

Yet being the daughter of a general, had she failed the test of courage by never daring to escape her cell? Surely one of bravery would have done so, swearing to defy the emperor’s orders and fight back. The window was small, but she could’ve squeezed through and jumped out of it. Whether she would survive the three-story fall was a secondary question, but at least she would be free.

Ever since that Spaniard gladiator had arrived in the city, it seemed fashionable to defy the emperor - anyone who followed his orders was considered a weakling or a fool. Being a young lady, Caesonia never needed to worry about whom to side with; ever since she’d come of age, her father never encouraged her to delve into politics.

However, things were different now with the recent…change in dynamics. The emperor was back in power, and the Senate now in disarray, but the people were still deciding whom to give their loyalty to. From the conversations she could overhear in her cell, not even the servants were sure of their true allegiance. Only time could truly tell who would win this ultimate battle of leadership.

Her thoughts were adjourned by an announcement from a guard. “The Emperor of Rome is on his way, prisoner!” His declaration was interrupted by a quick slap. “How dare you call her merely a prisoner?” The voice was none other than that of Commodus’s. “She is a lady and must be addressed as such.”

Caesonia straightened herself, adjusting her toga so that she may be presentable before him. She saw him coming towards her, bearing a piece of pink cloth in one of his hands. Narrowing her eyes closer, she recognized it as her pink cloth - it was from the dress she wore to witness the Spaniard fight His Majesty.

The guards parted for him. “Good evening, my lady,” Emperor Commodus lowered his head for her, a rare honor for anyone, let alone a prisoner. “Good evening, your Highness,” she curtsied before him, her lower lip quivering as her eyes met his.

“Do you by any chance know of this, Lady Caesonia?” He offered her the cloth.

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Yes, it looks similar to a piece of a dress that I own. Except, my cloth was stained with dirt and blood; the one you are holding, Caesar, is clean.”

Commodus, relieved that he truly knew whom his Pink Fairy was, signalled for the guards to let her out into the halls. “I had the laundresses clean it, my lady. Would it displease you if I asked you to walk with me tonight?”

“Not at all, your Highness.”

He hummed in agreement, going outside of the palace and into one of the gardens in the southern wing. Surrounded by various species of roses, narcissi, and gladioli, it was quite the colorful ensemble. And in the center, there was a large fountain with water spouting from a statue of Augustus, the first Roman emperor in history.

It was quite dark, with the sky being surrounded by nothing but black, velvety clouds. Yet, the starlight and the faint glow from the palace was enough luminescence for them to see each other.

The emperor invited her to sit next to him on the marble bench. Noticing her silence, Commodus softly asked her. “Do I scare you, Lady Caesonia?”

“No. This is not the first time we have met, your Highness.”

“Where have we met before?”

“In Germania, Highness. I came along with my father on his battles.”

Commodus raised an eyebrow at the idea of a young girl being brought to a battefield, especially one of nobility. “But why? Surely a girl like you would’ve been entrusted to her mother at home. A battle camp is no place for a young lady.”

Caesonia closed her eyes for a moment. “My mother died during childbirth, Caesar. And I had no siblings.”

“My condolences to your mother,” the emperor nodded.

“Thank you, Caesar,” she forced a small smile.

“Did your father teach you to fight?”

“He did when I was young - until I was twelve, everyone called me Cassius Quintii,” her eyes twinkled under the indigo sky as she narrated. “I was raised as a boy, and I fought like any soldier’s son.”

“And then what happened?”

Caesonia continued, “My armor…my armor became too tight for my chest, and my father knew why. He stopped teaching me, and started leaving me in the company of various ladies present - concubines, noble ladies, and even…” Her voice faltered, hesitating to mention Lady Lucilla.

“My sister, no?” Commodus finished, “She used to leave you in my care and go off to speak with her lover.”

Looking further at Caesonia, the memory suddenly came back to him. When he came to Germania hoping to speak with his father about his succession and eventual coronation, he was given a girl to watch over. It was utterly humiliating, him - a prince - being brought to a battlefield to baby-sit. Until his father’s letter describing the four virtues, he thought there was no clearer of a way for his father to convey his opinion about Commodus.

Caesonia added, “All I’ve wanted was to please my father, but I think he’s still angry that I was never the son he wanted…and that I took away the chance of him having another child.”

“And yet you still plead for his life in court even though he made yours uncomfortable?”

“I love him nonetheless, and I think he deserves to live. Perhaps that was my mistake.” Caesonia looked down, placing her hands in her lap.

His expression softening, Commodus gently stroked her cheek, causing her to turn towards him. With those same fingers, he lifted her chin and brought his lips to hers. Caesonia held his forearm to steady herself as she attempted to reciprocate his kiss, having never experienced such intimacy before. She did not want to be punished for refusing him and she was afraid of angering the emperor with her boldness, but her touch only captivated him.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, lowering her onto the marble delicately as if she were made of glass. Commodus marveled at her submissiveness, having never felt so much power in his arms as he did in that moment. Her eyelids lowered and her lips parted slightly when he climbed on top of her, the heavy weight of his armor crushing her chest. He captured her lips again, and felt her arms encircle his broad shoulders.

As their kiss deepened, her muted sighs only strengthened a new desire surging through his veins. It was far too different than merely lust, Commodus thought, it was almost a feeling of jealousy, or hunger perhaps. In that moment, he was ready to kill anyone who tried to claim her, or touch her, or snatch her away from him. She needed to be his and only his.

Gasping for air, the two of them broke apart too soon for either’s liking, still lingering in each other’s embrace. It had felt like an eternity passed before the emperor rose from the bench. Commodus suppressed a chuckle as he watched Caesonia’s knees buckle when she tried to stand up. Lovingly, he wrapped the cloth around her neck like a scarf and strode away from the bench. Walking five steps behind him, she followed him out of the garden and into the palace.

The emperor could not help but glance behind as they made their way through the halls. She looked ethereal among the light of the torches. Her smooth hair and her cheekbones called to his fingers, clamoring for his caress. It was taking every fiber of his being not to roughly push her against the palace walls and kiss her again until they were both breathless.

He stopped before another empty bedroom, seemingly much more comfortable, and spoke to the guard, instructing him to keep her here for the time being. “Good night, Lady Caesonia,” he bent down to kiss her hand.

“Good night, Caesar. Thank you for your benevolence,” she nodded in return.

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The next morning, Caesonia rose from her bed to find a plate of pink-bottled perfumes and creams, along with a little rouge, by her bedside. Perhaps a maid must’ve placed it while I slept, she thought. In the midst of the cosmetics, there was a folded piece of parchment. Carefully, she unfolded the note and read,

“If you ever asked me if I’d seen a rose blooming from another rose,

My reply would be yes, for my eyes have been blessed by one of those.

On the night your soft, finely curved lips met mine,

I witnessed your rosy cheeks bloom from that rose-like face of thine.”