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megalony · 6 months ago

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Maimed My Wife

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine that turned out rather long. I'm very happy with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Please tell me what you think.

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Summary: Geta is very protective of his wife. And when a General in the palace attacks her, he sees to it personally that said General will no longer be a threat.

Enjoy.

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A deep warmth spread through (Y/n) and her mouth curved into a tender grin when a familiar pair of lips attached themselves to the side of her neck. Silently, she inclined her head to the left, allowing more access while she tried to keep her focus on the book in her hands.

Her fingers skimmed across the corner of each page, an action she had done for long enough that the corners were starting to crinkle as if they had been dampened with water. Each page was still pristine and crisp, but there was a small, noticable mark of wear and tear in the corners and the remnants of ink smudged across the side of the pages when each one had been turned.

The words began to blurr on the page the longer (Y/n) felt Geta's administrations on her neck continue. Added with the movement of his hands which were fiddling with the fabric of her dress and the belt around her waist, he was making it very hard to concentrate.

Geta's arms were encircled around (Y/n)'s waist as if he were caging her in his embrace, not that she ever wanted to leave.

It wasn't often that they could scrape moments together like this without having some kind of audience or interruption. Being here, just the two of them with no guards or family or servants hovering nearby, it was heavenly. It was a sense of serenity.

(Y/n) re-read the same two lines for what felt like the tenth time until they finally seemed to sink in and she could focus on reaching the bottom of the page. But when Geta's teeth sank down against her lower neck near her shoulder, she was sure he was trying to leave a visible mark. A signal that she was his, she was taken. As if no one already knew who she belonged to.

The book started to tap against her knees that were drawn up so her feet could press down into the sofa and steady herself. The words weren't making sense anymore, she wasn't really paying attention.

(Y/n) hadn't been in the library long before Geta wandered in, knowing this was exactly where his wife would be. As soon as he sat down with her, (Y/n) knew her book would end up being forgotten and would have to be finished another day. Even as Geta murmured into her hair that he just wanted to sit with her as he had a moment to spare, and the promises he uttered into her skin that he wouldn't be a distraction. (Y/n) knew he would be.

Her chest leaned further back into Geta's chest until she was reclined against him and her head fell back against his shoulder. He was sat slightly slouched down into the sofa while (Y/n) was sat sideways so she could be tucked into Geta's arm. It didn't take long for him to twist and curve both arms around her and attach to her like he had been apart from her for days, not hours.

"You're making this difficult." (Y/n) murmured with a sly smile, already residing to the fact that she was giving up with reading for today.

"Hm, I can tell."

Her hand draped across the sofa, fumbling about to try and find the speckled feather she had been using as a bookmark for quite some time now. Once it was slotted safely in place between the pages, (Y/n) leaned forward to set her book down on the other end of the sofa.

The library was (Y/n)'s sense of peace. She had been thrilled when she moved into the palace after marrying Geta and he showed her the library. He had quickly realised that if he couldn't find his wife anywhere, this was where she would be hiding. Buried in the books the library provided, catching up on her Latin and Greek and delving into the mythical stories each book provided.

Geta understood her love of books, even if he didn't read half as many books as her. He had been tutored well. He and Caracalla had been taught to read and write since the moment they could stand on their own two feet. Emperors had to be well-schooled and be given rich educations. Geta wanted the same for his children, even if he wouldn't go about it as strictly as his parents had. And he had promised himself never to treat his children the way his father had treated him and his twin.

He began to feather his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s waist, grinning into her neck at the way she squirmed against him and moved her hands down to clasp over his wrists now that she wasn't holding her book.

When Geta lifted his head, (Y/n) turned and angled her head up so she could peck his cheek.

She took the chance to admire his pale features, amplified with a lacquer of paint to make his features more ghostly and frightening. On anyone else, (Y/n) was sure looking so pale and deathly would look a horrid sight, but on her husband it was enchanting and regal.

One hand reached up to brush a stray strand of bright orange hair away from his dark eyes that fell closed as he leaned into her touch and nudged his nose against her wrist.

Moments alone like these were few and hard to grasp, Geta liked to bask in them for as long as possible before they morphied into something else or became broken by interruptions.

He continued to glide his fingertips along her waist, drawing patterns into the pure white dress that crinkled and ruffled along her thighs and over her bent knees. He liked how her dress contrasted to the golden clothes he was wearing beneath the cold golden armour over the top. When being seen out in public, Geta was used to wearing his armour. It was for spectators as well as his own protection. They never knew what people were lurking around each corner.

While Geta had his eyes closed, (Y/n) took the opportunity to turn around so her back was no longer against his chest. She moved round so she was knelt up beside his thigh, now able to loop her arms around the back of his neck and lean her chest flush against his.

Her touch was surprising but very welcome and Geta's hands moved to cup her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh as he leaned further back and tilted his head so he was gazing up at his wife. His own Goddess.

The word "Beautiful," passed his lips as he gazed at her in splendor before he leaned forward to capture her in a kiss. The touch was soft and warm and loving and (Y/n) gasped into his mouth when she felt his teeth bite down on her lower lip.

(Y/n) began to stroke her thumb up and down the back of Geta's neck, brushing against the short hairs and tangling her finger in his longer locks at the back of his head. When she tightened her grip it earned a quiet growl to rumble from deep within Geta's chest. And she felt his hands tighten on her hips in retaliation and he scrunched her dress up between his fingers, just starting to pull up the material as if his intentions were to bunch her dress high around her hips.

She was sure that was what his intention was and she leaned further against his chest to try and deter him. Anyone could walk in. People didn't tend to knock on lounge or library doors the same as they would if the Emperor and Empress were in their personal chambers.

(Y/n) would hate to be caught by anyone if she and Geta were in a compromising position. She knew her husband wouldn't bat an eyelid, but she would.

When she tugged on his hair again and tilted his head back without breaking their kiss, (Y/n) felt his hands give a sharp pull on her hips. He was about to pull her onto his lap and (Y/n) would have obliged, if the wooden doors to the library didn't creak and groan as they opened.

Their lips quickly broke apart and (Y/n) glanced over her left shoulder while Geta let his head drop back against the sofa while he casually looked towards the doors.

A smile instantly formed on his lips and his fingers dug into (Y/n)'s hips, pulling her back down against his chest again when they both saw that it wasn't a guard or a servant requesting something from them.

It was Caracalla, with his niece in his arms.

Caracalla's hair looked rather disshevelled as if he had woken up from a hundred year nap, but he had a bright smile on his features and his head inclined to one side as he waltzed into the library.

He jostled his niece who was perched high on his chest with her little arms draped around the back of his neck and her head nuzzled up against his cheek.

There weren't many people in the palace that Geta would trust with his child. The nursemaid who had been employed with them since the princess's birth, the two guards who were to watch over the princess without fail, wherever she went. And his brother.

When the princess was with her parents or her uncle, no guards needed to constantly have her within their sights. They could walk a few paces back or wait outside the room rather than stand inside and observe.

"Oh, and what are you doing?"

Geta chose to ignore his brother's words and the smile that broadened on his features because they both knew what the couple had been doing.

As the large oak doors closed behind him, Caracalla walked further into the library, looking around the grand room he hardly ever came into anymore. He didn't find books fascinating, his attention span was short these days and with his changing moods, curtesy of his illness, the mood to sit peacefully and engage in a book never came about. He was either much too frivilous or much too riled to read.

But he knew his sister in law was quite often found in here and sometimes this was where he had to come in order to find his niece. Caracalla was immensely fond of her. He was childlike at heart and found he could entertain the little girl and enjoy spending time with her rather than most of the people who frequented the palace.

"She can walk, brother." Geta dropped one hand from (Y/n)'s hip so he could motion his hand towards his daughter.

His daughter had recently learned to walk and it made her much more of a trickster. Geta was forever finding her sliding the rings off his fingers and running off with them, clearly wanting him to play her game and chase her for the jewels.

And now that she could walk, it meant the princess would run into meetings and abscond around the palace with her maid right behind her, unable to stop her from trying to explore and find her parents. Geta never declined when his daughter found her way to the meetings and he would sit her on his lap and let her play with the jewellery hanging around his neck or the rings cladding his fingers while the Senates talked state business. Her presence was calming.

"Where's the fun in that?" Caracalla countered with pursed lips and a huff that ended with him kissing his niece's cheek.

He knew she could walk, she had ran right up to him this morning, clearly wanting him rather than her nursemaid and Caracalla obliged. He dismissed the maid immediately and took to wandering around the palace with the little princess by his side and then in his arms. He loved carrying her around. Why walk when she could be carried like the princess she was?

But he seemed to relent when she started to wriggle and he set her down to her feet so she could toddle across the dark purple and crimson rug with her arms outstretched towards her parents.

(Y/n) slowly turned back around and slumped back down on the sofa so she was sitting beside Geta rather than kneeling up against him. Her lips curved into a grin and her hands draped over Geta's shoulders when he leaned forward to reach out for her.

A squeal burst past Floriana's lips when Geta scooped her up from the floor and leaned back to sit her down on his lap.

"Hi flower," He murmured softly and when her little hands patted his cheeks, Geta obliged and leaned down to kiss her temple.

(Y/n) watched the both of them with fondness amplifying in her eyes and causing a bright smile to etch across her face. Her hands squeezed his shoulders and she leaned forward to perch her chin in the crook of his neck as a little incoherent murmur left their daughter's lips.

She loved to see Geta with their little girl. Although it was frowned upon to have the father at the birth, Geta had burst into the room when he couldn't wait around any longer and listen to his wife's tortured cries.

(Y/n) had been nervous when she had Floriana. She didn't know how Geta would react to a daughter, it was something that had rattled her and caused her many sleepless nights. Everyone had expected her to bear a son, to give an heir to the throne to secure Geta's place as Emperor. Having a girl simply meant everyone would be pressuring her to have a boy sooner or later as if she had done something wrong and she would have to keep retrying until she got it right.

Geta quashed those worries immediately. The tears in his eyes and the bright smile on his face when he held his daughter showed he wasn't disappointed in the slightest. He was enamoured with his little girl and he wouldn't change her for the world. She and (Y/n) were Geta's everything.

The three people in this room with him were his family. These were the people he would give his life for.

"Have you two had some fun?" (Y/n) reached her arm across to brush her finger against her daughter's cheek, watching the little girl giggle and burrow into Geta's chest.

Although her fingers started to tap against the golden armour covering his chest. She couldn't reach his undershirt or his robes. Floriana had a new obsession with hiding herself away in Geta's robes like she was doing some kind of magician's trick. With his armour in the way, she couldn't tuck herself into his clothes or make herself disappear.

"We've been for a stroll in the gardens with Dondus." Caracalla perched on the arm of the sofa nearest to (Y/n) and brought his feet up to rest on the sofa cushion. His sandals began to tap against the cushion and his hands patted his thighs as he continued to smile. He was in one of his good moods today.

When Floriana pushed up until she was stood on Geta's thigh, he tilted back to see what she was doing.

"What are you doing, little one?"

Her hands scrunched up in the collar of his shirt that poked through above his armour and her cheek flopped onto his shoulder near (Y/n) as she pushed into his chest. Geta kissed the top of her head with a smile as he realised that she was tired. She would need a nap now and if he had the time, he would lie right here and let her lay on his chest. He would cuddle her and stay with her as she slept if he could.

"Acacius is back from his venture, we should go and await his arrival." It wasn't like Caracalla to be prompt and ready to follow procedure, but they had sent the General on a mission to conquor lands in the name of Rome. And both Emperors were eager to hear of his triumph and know just how much he had procured for them while he had been away.

"We should." Geta hummed against the top of his daughter's head but the sigh he let out told (Y/n) he didn't really want to leave.

"I think we will stay here and have a nap while you await your victories." (Y/n) turned to gently ease their daughter into her own arms because she knew if she didn't, Geta was unlikely to let his daughter go.

She made a little whine at the movement but once her head was nestled into (Y/n)'s chest and she began drooling on her mother's sleeve, she seemed content. The little girl curled up in her mother's embrace who slouched back into the sofa so her daughter was lying down and could settle to sleep.

(Y/n) was more than eager to stay here in the library where it was quiet and serene. Her baby girl could take a nap and (Y/n) could continue reading while the Emperor's went about their business.

A lot of the ladies in court had told and advised (Y/n) to leave the nurturing of her daughter to the maids.

'That is what they are there for.'

That wasn't good enough. (Y/n) wanted to be with her daughter. She loved to read to her and cuddle her and take walks with her and be in her presence. (Y/n) wanted to be involved just the same as Geta rarely let his girl out of his sight when he wasn't in his meetings. He checked on her at almost every moment of the day, he wanted to be involved when she began to take her lessons and tutoring.

They would both be involved in their daughter's upbringing more than the servants and maids would be.

"Sleep," Caracalla muttered and grazed his fingers against his niece's thin strands of hair before he bounced up from the sofa to take his leave. He had done his job with entertaining her for the morning and now he could go and drown in spendor and victory.

"I won't be too long."

Geta pressed a finger beneath (Y/n)'s chin, tilting her head up towards him so he could steal a kiss from her warm lips. Her touch was enticing him to stay and he hummed against her lips, swiping his tongue against hers in a battle that had him yearning to stay here with them than to go and deal with the victories of Rome.

When (Y/n) finally pulled back for air, Geta groaned and bowed his forehead against hers. He didn't want to leave his girls.

"Rest, little flower." His words were hushed against Floriana's temple which he kissed, twice, and his finger brushed along her cheek before he finally parted from his girls. His eyes lingered on them as he left the library, feeling like he was walking away without his heart that had been left behind with them.

He wanted to be back with them already.

***

After both Emperors departed, it didn't take long for Floriana to drift into slumber, resting against her mother's chest. Her head was tucked against (Y/n)'s neck and she had curled up like a cub, dozing peacefully.

(Y/n) had her cheek resting on top of Floriana's head with one arm draped around her daughter and the other hand expertly balancing her book and preventing the pages from wavering and losing her place.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, tucked up in their own little world of peace together with no disrruptions or people clattering around and making a fuss. It was lovely to spend some time together with her little girl.

(Y/n) could feel her own eyes desperate to close but she powered through, wanting to use this time to read and sit with her daughter rather than fall to sleep and lose the moment.

They had been tucked up together for a long while before a quiet knock sounded at the door and (Y/n) looked over to see the nursemaid poking her head around the door. She wondered if the maid knew instinctively that the princess would be in here with her mother or if she had spent a while searching round the palace for the pair of them. Or maybe one of the Emperors had mentioned in passing where they both were.

It didn't matter either way. The maid walked into the room with a smile gracing her plump features as she looked down at the princess who was just beginning to stir in her mother's arms.

"Would you like me to take the princess for some lunch?"

"Please." (Y/n) nodded and placed the feather back in her book which she set down beside her.

She eased forward until Floriana was forced to sit up on her lap and the little girl rubbed her fist against her eyes to try and wake herself up. Her head lolled from left to right and a yawn escaped her lips as she smiled sweetly up at the maid who reached down to scoop her up.

They both knew if the princess tried walking now she would stumble or lay down with only just waking up and she would dawdle. It would be much easier to carry her back to her room to have something to eat.

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to her temple and brushed her short strands of golden hair away from her little eyes before she was in the maid's arms.

"Are you joining us, Empress?"

"Soon, I'll find the Emperor first." It wouldn't be fitting for (Y/n) not to find out how their meeting with General Acacius had gone- or was still going, depending on how long this meeting would drag out for.

(Y/n) knew the Emperors would entertain the General and want to hear about every triumph and each obstacle he overcame so they knew how to better strategize their next invasion. And she knew as Empress that she needed to take an interest too and find out how things had gone.

She watched with a smile as the maid nodded and left the library with the Princess bundled up in her arms, still half asleep.

(Y/n) wasn't that hungry yet, anyway. She would take a walk to liven herself up and then go and see how things were fairing with both Emperors. Hopefully this meeting would go well and there would be reason for triumph and celebrations. (Y/n) knew both Emperors were desperate to entertain more Gladiators in the colosseum. It wasn't a sport that (Y/n) particularly enjoyed witnessing, but seeing her husband so eager and cheering and giving the casting vote of a Gladiator's life was thrilling to watch.

With her book laid on the small table beside the sofa, (Y/n) stood up and smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress that pooled towards her ankles. The pure white cotton always glistened when she walked in the sunlight and Geta always commented that she reminded him of a star with how the light sparkled on her when she wore white. A blinding beauty was how he often described her.

She made her way to the door and headed out of the quiet library, into the corridor that had very limited windows and therefore not much light. The shadows cast darker in this corridor and made (Y/n) feel like she was wandering the palace in darkness rather than the middle of the day.

The sound of her sandals clicking against the stones echoed and bounced off the walls and she slowly descended towards the end of the hall to the stairs.

(Y/n) wasn't too sure whereabouts her husband would be having this meeting with Acacius, but she knew it would be downstairs. Either in one of the drawing rooms or the great hall which they used for meetings with the Senate. The only thing she was sure of was that he and Caracalla would speak to Acacius on their own. Without an audience so they could truly discuss their plans and news.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and she stepped back just before she reached the corridor leading to the stairs when a firm chest almost barrelled into her.

Her left hand pressed into the wall and her right hand pressed against her chest to steady her breathing.

Her round eyes looked up to see who she had almost collided with and she stepped back again to add a bit more space between them and make sure that she wouldn't tumble over.

"Oh, General Caius." (Y/n) nodded her head at the General who stood tall in front of her.

He was one of the men she didn't know too well. (Y/n) knew only a few of the Generals who paraded round the palace and led her husband's armies. Caius was one of the men she was more acquainted with but she never really had many dealings with him. It was usually a smile in passing when he would come to deliver news to the Emperors.

"Empress." He bowed his head to her and (Y/n) watched a smile light up his features.

His smile seemed somehow too large and crooked for his face and the way his beady eyes trained in on her made her chest tighten. Being married to an Emperor made (Y/n) the subject of scrutiny by many people, and it was never something she handled well.

She couldn't help the way she cast her eyes around the hall as if waiting for someone to wander out of one of the rooms and cease this awkward encounter or strike up a conversation.

"Have you seen the Emperor?"

"No my lady." When he stepped closer, (Y/n) tried to form a placid smile as she carefully stepped to the right. "No guards?"

The way Caius cast his eyes around the hall and ticked his head made (Y/n) look behind her rather stupidly. She knew she didn't have guards following her. Geta had agreed to her wishes not to be followed around the palace at every waking moment.

When she had been pregnant, he had been a little less willing and made sure the guards followed at a safe distance behind (Y/n), for his peace of mind. And of course if the princess wasn't with her parents or uncle, she was to be guarded at all times. But Geta had allowed (Y/n) the luxury of not having guards trailing her every movement if she did not want them to.

She only had guards if she left the palace or when they were entertaining company, for curtesy.

Caius knew this. He often did guard duties in the palace from time to time and he knew (Y/n) was different to the Emperors. Both Emperors liked to have guards nearby, they never knew who might be lurking around each corner or when someone might turn into an enemy and attack. Whereas this had never happened to (Y/n) so she had no reason to think it might happen now.

"Good day, General." Dipping her head down in curtesy, (Y/n) scratched her fingers against the palm of her hands as she stepped to the right a little more to try and walk around Caius.

She had no wish to entertain him in conversation today, she wanted to go and find her family and celebrate their victories.

Her eyes trained on the floor, following the cracks in the carefully carved stone but a jolt ran through her system and made her chest tighten horribly when a hand curled around her upper arm. Her feet stumbled over one another and her shoulder bashed into Caius's chest when he roughly pulled her back towards him.

"What's the rush?" His voice seemed to lower an octave and his grin had turned sickening as he stared down at her.

His fingers were starting to grip bruisingly into (Y/n)'s flesh and when she tried to yank her arm out of his hold, he simply reeled her back towards him again.

What was he doing?

"You forget your place. General." (Y/n) held her chin high and ground her jaw as she wrenched her arm out of his hold and fought the urge to reach out and slap him for his indignation.

He had no right to be grabbing her like that. (Y/n) wanted to go and he had no cause to stop her or try to entertain a conversation with her when she said no. All it took was one word to Geta for General Caius to be demoted; not that (Y/n) would ever want to use her status and power like that, but she would if she had to.

"And you clearly don't know yours, my lady." The way he sneered down at her made (Y/n)'s stomach churn but before she could try and bolt towards the stairwell, he grabbed her. Again.

A hand curled around the back of her neck with shuch a viper's grip that (Y/n) felt too afraid to breathe. She felt his other hand press down against the centre of her chest and her tense legs tripped and scuffed her heels against the floor when Caius pushed her back until she was pressed against the wall.

The cold stone bruised her shoulders and her spine ached when she jolted back against the wall, staring up at Caius in terror.

No one had ever been so bold as to do anything like this to her before. They knew who she was married to. They knew the madness that dwelled within her husband and the deep rage that jealousy provoked within him. If someone so much as looked at (Y/n) for a second too long, Geta's arm was around her waist and his petrifying gaze was burning into whoever was looking at her.

He had dismissed men from the palace for staring or hovering too close to his wife and for striking up much too informal conversations with her.

(Y/n) didn't want to think what he would do to a General under his command who laid a hand on his wife and who would try and put her in such a compromising position.

"Caius- that's enough!" (Y/n) clenched her hand around his wrist and tried to force his hand from her chest where he was pushing her so harshly into the wall that the stone was beginning to grate againt her exposed shoulders. But she couldn't seem to move when he all but thrust her back against the wall again and his head inclined closer to hers.

He took two steps closer until the smooth silver armour he wore clinked against her chest. It felt like (Y/n) was trapped between two walls that were closing in on her. At any moment she felt like she was going to be crushed.

When his other hand moved down and had the audacity to grip her hip, (Y/n) let go of his wrist. She reeled her arm back and slapped him across the face with as much force as she could muster.

The blunt force caused Caius's head to propell to the left and it weakened his hand against her chest enough for (Y/n) to push against him and stumble to one side.

Why was he doing this? Didn't he know the punishment for this would certainly be his death? If he went any further in his torturous advances, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to stop Geta from unleashing Hell onto him. If he stopped now, if he backed off and let (Y/n) hurry to Geta, then Caius would get away with being stripped of his General status and being exiled from Rome. But if he continued, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to stop her husband from taking his life.

"That was bold." Caius rose one hand to his mouth where he could taste blood from where he bit his tongue from the slap. But the way his grin splintered into a sideways smirk showed he wasn't going to stop at that.

(Y/n) screamed when his hand knotted in her hair and dragged her back against his chest, but when a thin hand blade was pressed over her neck, her voice cut short.

"Don't make me use this." He pressed the knife deeper against her throat until (Y/n) couldn't breathe without discomfort, as if she didn't know what he was referring to. "Although I do wonder… does your blood run blue when cut?"

A cry bubbled up in (Y/n)'s throat but she clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes to try and steady herself. Her hands grasped Caius's arm to stop herself from wavering and to try and keep him from pressing the blade too far and cutting off her breathing.

Oh dear.

How was she going to get out of this? How was she going to explain this situation to Geta? Her husband wasn't going to react well. She needed to get out of this now before Caius did something horrible. (Y/n) didn't want to know if he would cut her or not. She didn't want to be hurt with a blade. She didn't want to know what his intentions were or how far he would go or if he would truly try and defile an Empress.

His motives were clear and disgusting.

The word 'no' uttered past her lips and her neck tensed and began to tremble against the blade as she tried to push him back but it wasn't working.

The blade held her in place and when she felt his free hand move to clutch at her lip it felt like his fingers were fangs piercing into her skin. She could feel her dress being scrunched up in his fist along with how tightly he was gripping her skin that would surely bruise beneath his poisonous touch.

With what effort she could muster, (Y/n) rose her knee up and rammed it into his crotch as swiftly as she could manage. But the movement caused Caius to crash forwards into her as he doubled over with a loud grunt.

His face pressed awfully close to hers until (Y/n) could see the emotions bubbling over in his eyes. Rage. Lust. Anger. All of it, mixing together in a sinister concotion that had her stomach churning in fright.

She could barely draw in a proper breath with Caius pressing into her and the blade against her throat. But she tried. She tried to inhale one deep breath that expanded her lungs to the max and allowed her to hold her breath so she could push forward.

She took the risk of pressing her throat further into the blade until she could feel a slight sting and a few droplets of blood dribbled across the blade. It caused Caius to pull his arm back an inch or two.

He didn't want to cut her. He didn't want to use the blade unless he had to. He was smart. He hoped the threat of inflicting pain would be enough to subdue (Y/n) and make her listen to him. Actually harming her wasn't something Caius wanted to do because he knew if he was caught and (Y/n) was harmed, that would be it.

Harming the Emperor's wife was a death sentence and although Caius was playing with fire, he didn't want to get burned.

"Enough!" The word spat past (Y/n)'s lips in a breathless scream and she thrashed her arms out until they bashed down into Caius's elbows, forcing his arms to tense and drop down.

The action caused the knife to slice through her skin. It wasn't deep enough to reach muscle, but it was enough to make (Y/n)'s knees shake in agony and a scream erupted from her lips. The feeling of her skin peeling apart like fruit made her body cringe and writhe. She felt the knife carve from the side of her neck down to her collar bone.

When Caius's arm slid from her frame, the knife roughly slashed against (Y/n)'s dress, cutting the strap across her right shoulder so the material hung loose and barely stayed over her chest.

With her right hand cradling her neck and feeling the blood trickling across her palm, (Y/n) thrust her other arm out until she smacked the General at any angle and area of his body that she could. She flung her left side into him, shoving him back as she tripped over her skirts and stumbled away from him.

Her feet became caught in her dress that was floundering around her like sails caught in the wind and her body slumped against the wall to her right to stop herself going down on her knees.

Tears tumbled down her face as another scream belted past her lips, trying in vain to alert anyone that she needed help. There had to be someone around here. Surely. Someone had to be walking these halls or cleaning the rooms on this floor or just loitering around. There had to be someone who could hear her.

"I will have you!"

Caius's shrill, gritty tone made (Y/n) whimper and she turned around just in time to raise her left arm in defence when she saw the glittering edge of the blade coming towards her. The blade cut through her forearm deeper than the wound to her neck and had her arm trembling and coiling back towards her chest.

Why was he doing this? Why (Y/n)? Was the thought of harming or defiling an Empress worth the price he was going to pay for this?

Surely he knew that if he didn't kill (Y/n), she would tell Geta and that her husband wasn't likely to ignore her. Geta would believe her, he wouldn't never think his wife was lying and therefore Caius would have no defence when Geta found him. He couldn't lie his way out of this situation.

When his hand clenched around her upper arm and gave a rough twist, (Y/n) stumbled towards him. She let herself go limp and allowed him to drag her to her knees before him while her right hand slithered round from her tense, bleeding neck to scrunch her fingers up into her hair.

Caius seemed too interested with the sight of the Empress on her knees before him to notice what she was doing. His eyes were roaming her skin, taking in the sight of her tense throat that was gasping for air and her heaving chest trying to regain enough oxygen so she didn't pass out. He seemed to enjoy the hatred pooling in her eyes that would not look up beyond his chin, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring into those beastly eyes.

He made the mistake of leaning towards her. He made the grave error of letting go of her arm in favour of grasping her chin which he man handled so he could tilt her head back and roughly force his lips against hers. He was so rough that his teeth clashed against hers and caused her lip to cut against her teeth and the touch was sickening.

But the distraction was enough. (Y/n)'s trembling fingers pulled one of the pins from her hair that had previously kept her hair pinned neatly at the back of her head. Tendrils of hair fell loose as (Y/n) clenched the thin metal between her thumb and index finger.

Her watering eyes narrowed and she focused on the General before her as she thrust her hand forward until the pin punctured into his eye.

The action made her stomach churn and she could feel bile rising at the back of her throat as she gagged. The squelching sound made (Y/n) cough through a cry and when Caius roared, (Y/n) took her chance.

She twisted his wrist until the blade punctured through his lower abdomen where the silver armour he wore could not reach to protect him.

Another roar of agony left the General's lips as he crashed to his knees. Blood lathered around his eye socket where his eyelid was pinned closed and blood continued to trickle down his face. His white robes beneath his armour quickly started to change like a magician's trick, turning a horrible shade of crimson.

The wound in his abdomen wasn't as deep as (Y/n) wanted it to be, but she didn't have the strength to push the blade any further when it needed so much effort and Caius's hand was fighting against her, repelling her motion. But the flesh wound was all she needed to escape him.

(Y/n) sank back on her heels and scraped her bloodied hands along the floor so she could turn over and scramble to her feet.

Her hands bunched around her dress, yanking it up so she had no fear or tripping over her skirts as she pelted down the hall.

Tears whipped across her face, horrid wheezing breaths tumbled past her lips causing her chest to heave. And blood coated her previously crystal white dress that was now ruined. She would never be able to wear this dress again. She would never wear white again or look at her white gowns in the same way.

She looked like a ruined work of art.

Blood coated her palms. It dried like flecks of paint along her neck and she could feel slithers trickling down her chest beneath her dress. The fact that Caius's blood was now painted across her dress made (Y/n) want to be sick.

Her sandals slid across the stairs and had her stumbling down three steps at once causing her to grip the handrail before she tumbled down the staircase.

Terrified sounds tumbled past her lips and tears blurred her vision as she gasped for breath, running on adrenaline and fear.

(Y/n) coiled both her arms into her chest and bowed her head, running slightly hunched over to try and rid herself of the pulsing pains coursing through her body in time with her rapid heartbeat. Her eyes aimed on the floor that blurred before her eyes and she ran off memory. It was a relief that she knew this palace like the back of her hand and could run its halls in the dead of night with her eyes closed.

A scream erupted past her lips when her shoulder collided with another and sent her veering to the right.

"My lady-"

(Y/n) recognised the voice of the maid she had clearly barged into, but she couldn't place her name. Her mind was too scrambled to make sense of anything except for the fact that she needed her husband. Now.

"No!" (Y/n) flung her arm out when the maid tried to rest a hand on her shoulder. She didn't care for anyone's touch or anyone trying to help her. It was too little too late. She needed help ten minutes ago when the General had started his attack. Not now, when she had already defended herself and took care of the matter on her own.

Her feet picked up the pace and she was back to pelting unsteadily down the corridor, aiming for the great hall. If her husband wasn't in there then (Y/n) would find the nearest servant and demand them to find him. But she had to keep moving. Standing around in empty corridors was clearly unsafe now. She had to move until she was somewhere safe. With someone safe.

"You have brought great victory to Rome, General. You must be rewarded." Geta's fingers tangled together behind his back while he looked at Acacius stood opposite him and his brother.

They had listened to him reel off the plans of attack, what had worked and what needed improvement. The land he had procured for them and how they had only lost a few good men in their army.

They would plan games in the General's honour, to celebrate what he had done for the good of Rome.

Geta glanced over at his brother who was stood to his right with a beaming smile and a chuckle of agreement. Caracalla was all for celebrations, especially if it meant watching the games in the colosseum. The more blood and guts and gore, the better, in their opinion.

Just as Geta went to say something else, the words faded out on his tongue and he twisted to look behind him over his shoulder when the large oak doors burst open.

Reprimands and arguments flooded his mind as he was ready to punish whoever it was for entering the hall without knocking. Without permission. The servants knew not to interrupt, they knew a meeting was taking place and none of them were needed and should not interrupt.

He found no such arguments getting past his lips when he realised who had burst into the room.

His wife.

Such a belting scream emmitted past (Y/n)'s lips that Geta cringed and his shoulders rose up while his brother flinched and grunted at the noise.

Geta found his jaw hanging open and every part of his body turned rigid at the sight he was faced with.

His wife dropped to her knees once she was two feet over the threshold into the hall. Her body went down with a thump that echoed off the walls and her arms encased around her waist while she leaned forward and bowed her head. Her hair fell all around her in tangled knots and rampid curls that had come loose from their earlier, beautiful style that Geta had witnessed not more than an hour ago.

But it was the sight of his wife's dress that left Geta speechless and on the brink of collapsing himself. Blood. It tainted her dress. It embellished her smooth skin and speckled across her face and mingled with her torrential tears.

"Guards! Fetch the guards- and a healer. Now!" Geta spat the words as he shoved his hand into Acacius's shoulder to get him to move fast.

The General seemed as panicked and confused as both Emperors, but he nodded. One hand moved to grip the hilt of his blade just in case he encountered some thieves or thugs or crazed lunatic running around the palace. Acacius glanced his eyes down at the Empress as he rushed past her, panic and pain filling his gaze as he hurried past her.

He didn't have time to stop and try to help, he had to fetch a healer and alert the guards that there was a clear problem within the palace.

Geta could feel his brother hurrying behind him as the pair of them aimed for (Y/n).

The marbled floor hurt when Geta sank down to his knees before his wife and his hands immediately found her elbows so he could carefully reel her up so she was no longer crumpled over her thighs. He had to know what had happened. He had to know where all the blood was coming from. He had to help her. Somehow.

He couldn't help the way he flinched when he reached out for (Y/n) and her blood and tears soaked into his palms. His teeth sank down into his lower lip while he cupped her face in his hands and began smoothing his thumbs beneath her eyes to try and coax her to look at him.

But as Geta tilted her head back and tried to look her up and down, he didn't like what he saw.

There was a large cut, not too deep but not exactly superficial, going down the bottom of her neck and ended in the centre of her collar bone. And when (Y/n) reached her trembling hands up to grasp Geta's wrists, he tilted back and leaned his head down to look at the wound on her left arm. Blood was coating her arm like a red scarf had been wrapped around her forearm and droplets were splotching onto the otherwise clear marble floor.

Not to mention the fact that the right sleeve of her dress had been ripped, causing the top of her dress to bunch and sit lower on her chest than it had been earlier.

Someone was going to pay for this.

Geta's manic eyes couldn't stop roaming up and down his wife's frame and his hands were at the point of trembling until he was nearly shaking her head in his grasp. He couldn't find any words, all he could do was take note of each mark, each droplet of blood and each scuff mark on her skin. Noting all the discrepencies that someone was going to pay for. Each mark would account for every stab wound Geta would personally inflict on whoever was the cause of this.

"Where is little flower?" Caracalla looked from (Y/n) to glance behind her and then he darted his eyes around the room. His voice filled with a sudden air of panic and his features became enraged with every passing second.

His niece had been with (Y/n) when both Emperors left them. Was she too injured? Was she alright? Did they need a healer for the Princess too? Did the Emperors have to gut someone for daring to harm a hair on both the Empress and the Princess's heads?

A sudden breathlessness took over Geta when the thought of his daughter came to mind. He looked from his brother to his wife, noticing how his brother was starting to huff and his features had gone bright red at the thought of something happening to Floriana.

Where was his daughter?

"W- wi- with the maid. Safe." The words barely spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips. She couldn't find the nerve to speak and her panicked breaths and rapid heartbeat made it hard to utter a proper sentence.

But she had to let them know that Floriana was safe. (Y/n) dreaded to think what the General would have done if Floriana had been in (Y/n)'s arms when he approached her. Maybe he would have resisted and carried on walking. Maybe he would have hurt the princess too in order to get to the Empress. Perhaps he would have tried to drag (Y/n) away from her daughter. The possibilities were endless and each possible outcome made (Y/n) shudder and whimper. Thank the Gods her daughter had been and still was with her maid.

"Who did this?"

The tone of Geta's voice made (Y/n) cry harder and she couldn't meet his gaze until his hands were cupping her face more firmly and he tilted her head up so she had no choice but to look at him.

He wanted names. He wanted to know exactly who he had to castrate and murder for this madness.

"C-Caius."

"The General?"

Both Geta and Caracalla shared a look of confusion with each other while (Y/n) pulled her face out of Geta's hands so she could push forward into his embrace. Her face buried in his shoulder and her hands clutched at one of his arms, reeling it into her chest as she tried to curl up as if wanting to make herself disappear.

A General had done this? A man of power and influence, someone who should know much better than to mess with an Emperor's wife. A man who was trusted with the ruling and discipline of the Emperor's armies. A man like that had done this to the Empress of Rome.

"What did he do?" Geta feared to ask the question because he wasn't sure what kind of answer he would receive. The tears pouring down his wife's face told him the General had vastly overstepped the mark and tried to harm her, but exactly what he had done was unknown to Geta. He couldn't get the full story simply by looking at her wounds.

"He h- had a blade, he… he pinned me to t-the wall, but I stabbed him." (Y/n) closed her eyes, shuddering at the mere memory of what she had done.

She had never stabbed anyone before. She had never so much as slapped anyone before today, she had no need. No one had ever been inappropriate with (Y/n) before and the only person who had insulted her had almost been blinded when Geta fought him for the indignation.

"Okay." Geta hushed quietly while a mixture of relief and violent torment circled through his system.

The General clearly hadn't gotten as far as he wanted, Thank the Gods, but knowing he had even tried in the first place made Geta's fury boil over. (Y/n) had had to resort to stabbing him. She had resorted to defending herself when she shouldn't of had to, not in her own palace where she was supposed to be safe from threats and vile people like that.

Once Acacius led the way back into the hall, he was followed by a dozen guards, all waiting for instructions but instinctively on the look out for anything and anyone who looked out of place. Their eyes cast around the room but all fell silent when they looked down at the Empress.

One of Geta's hands moved to carefully cradle the back of (Y/n)'s head and the other arm encased around her waist, making sure she was tucked up safe against his chest. His lips smothered her temple for a few moments before he looked up at Acacius.

There was a great fire burning within Geta's eyes to rival the worst atrocities in the colosseum and the way his upper lip curled into a snarl was more than unsettling to witness.

"The healer is in the drawing room." Acacius could barely find his voice. His words were low and his eyes cast on the floor as he spoke. He didn't dare look at the Empress. Something told him that Geta would strike any of them if they dared to look at his wife while she was in such a state.

"Come here, my love." Geta's voice was unusually calm and the words were whispered against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear.

Her whole body broke out in trembles when Geta carefully moved her arms to loop them around the back of his neck. He left her face tucked up into the crook of his neck while his arms swooped around her lower back and the other slid beneath her knees.

He eased her against his chest and pushed up from his knees that had gone numb with how he had been knelt on the cold floor. It was hard for Geta to stop from digging his fingers into her skin. All he wanted to do was squeeze and grip her as tightly as he could but he knew better than to do that and risk hurting her anymore than she already had been.

His lips attached to her temple but his steely eyes focused ahead of him as he stormed out of the hall and into the corridor lined with guards who were watching and waiting his every move.

"What are you all looking at?!"

It took Geta by surprise, but he didn't shudder or jerk when he heard his brother's sudden scream. He simply pursed his lips and took a deep breath while he continued in his strides towards the drawing room that overlooked the gardens.

He could feel Caracalla and Acacius following close behind while the guards hung back a few steps, clearly unsettled by Caracalla's outburst. If any of them were caught staring at the Empress, Caracalla might raise his own sword to their throats. He was liable to fleeting moods and he was rattled, anything and anyone could provoke him. His sister had been hurt, he wouldn't take this lightly.

(Y/n) kept her face smothered in Geta's neck, brushing her chin and lips over the golden armour cladding Geta's shoulder. She could feel the cold metal turning her arms numb and making her blood run cold, but it was soothing when her skin felt like it had been overheating until now.

She wanted to disappear. (Y/n) wanted to curl up and make herself as small as possible. She wanted everyone to leave, she wanted this nightmare to end and to wake up like she had this morning with no problems on the horizon.

Once Geta stormed into the drawing room, he stormed ahead to the sofa that was in front of the large canopy windows and he knelt down to carefully lower (Y/n) onto the sofa. He sat down beside her, allowing her to continue to curl into his armour.

He cupped the side of her bloodied face and smothered his lips against the top of her head, breathing into her hair and inhaling her scent to try and calm himself down. He didn't remove his other arm from her waist that kept her tucked up against him. If the healers wanted to help her, they would have to do so while she was wrapped up in her husband's embrace.

The sound of Geta's voice murmuring "It's okay, you're okay," caused (Y/n) to cry harder and she didn't dare lift her head from his chest. She didn't want to look at anyone and see the fear or the sorrow filling their eyes. She didn't want their gazes falling on her.

It was a relief to see that the two healers had already started to get things prepared. There was a small table moved beside the sofa, covered with balms, remedies, cloths soaked in cleansing oils, bandages and opium, for the pain the Empress was clearly suffering.

"I want General Caius found and brought to me."

"The General?" The implication in Geta's voice was clear, but Acacius couldn't quite wrap his head around it. Surely this madness couldn't be down to the General's doing. Surely Caius hadn't done or caused all of this.

Acacius was a General himself and he would never dare to lay a hand on the Empress without great reason. It was rare for anyone to strike up a conversation with the Empress. For someone to lay a hand on her, to harm her in such a way was unspeakable and unthought of. No one would imagine something like this happening, within the palace no less.

Acacius took a step back, his eyes casting down when he found himself under Geta's scrutinising gaze. The way Geta's lips curled was frightening and the vengeance he wanted was clearly written across his face.

"He has maimed my wife!"

His usually pale complexion was overrun with colour. The make up Geta wore couldn't hide the blood rushing to the surface of his skin and the black make up smudged beneath his eyes only made him look deathly and spiteful. "Look what he's done to her!"

Geta realised his voice may have been a fraction too loud when he felt (Y/n) whimper and flinch in his arms, but he couldn't help it.

Could General Acacius not see what had been done to his Empress? Could he not see that she had told Geta exactly who had done this and that Geta wanted his head?

He wanted Caius brought to him now, and he wanted to inflict the fires of Hell onto him for this madness.

"And I want guards with the Princess. She is to be within their sights at all times."

With the wave of his hand, the General and the guards all left the room in search of Caius. Three guards stayed positioned outside the doors, making sure no one came in without permission. They would all be stationed to protect the Empress from now on. She wouldn't be walking the halls alone again, not after this.

And four guards were ordered to go to the Princess's chambers and keep watch over her. They were to make sure she was alright and ensure no one visited her or went too close to her. The Empress had already been attacked, Geta wouldn't stand for his daughter being hurt or frightened in any sense.

A frustrated growl left Geta's lips. He couldn't foresee how this atrocity had happened. Guards should have heard the commotion. Servants should have been filtering around the palace at some point. Someone should have stopped this. Were these people not paid enough to look after their rulers? Were they incompetent? Would Geta have to replace each and every one of them to ensure the safety of his family?

Whatever Geta grunted and grumbled under his breath went unheard by (Y/n) and the healers around them.

She tried to nuzzle her face into Geta's neck but her watering eyes opened when she found his hand cradling her chin and he carefully tilted her head back on his shoulder so he could look down upon her.

Without saying a word, he took one of the cloths from the table and began working to rid the blood from his wife's features. It felt like polishing a diamond, cleansing away every bitter element of the world to find the beauty hidden beneath. He scrubbed the flecks of blood away, watching as hazy burnt orange water the same as his hair trickled down her features as the blood was cleaned away.

The healers didn't make a sound, allowing Geta to be the one to clean the wound on (Y/n)'s neck so they could apply tonics and rags soaked in lotion. The wound wasn't deep enough to require stitches, the tonics would help the skin mend back together on its own and as long as it was clean, there would be no infection to deal with.

When he was done, Geta tossed the rag onto the floor and went back to gluing his lips against his wife's temple. He resisted the urge to start swaying them from side to side, knowing that would make the healer's job much harder as he was tending to the cut on her forearm. That one would require stitches, the blood loss made that very clear.

His thumb stroked across (Y/n)'s jaw while his other hand tensed and twitched against her hip, trying to control the rage that was mounting up within him. But when he glanced to the left, adrenaline fueled his heart and made extra beats course through his blood when he noticed Acacius had crept back into the room.

With a lasting kiss to the side of (Y/n)'s temple, Geta carefully slid from sitting behind her and approached the General.

He was pleased when his brother took his place, sitting down beside (Y/n) with a tepid smile and his hand held out so (Y/n) could squeeze his hand. Caracalla took it upon himself to take the vile of opium and press it to his sister in law's lips, urging her to drink so the pain in her arm would be lessened and the discomfort from the gash in her neck would go away. And with any luck, it might help her sleep.

"We found him." Acacius murmured quietly and the grave look on his face told Geta all he needed to know. By the looks of him when they found him, there was no doubt that he had been the one who attacked the Empress.

The weak sound of (Y/n) trying to call out his name had Geta shivering, but he didn't look back. He couldn't. If he looked at her, he wouldn't be able to leave her and right now, he had to. As much as he wanted to stay by his wife's side, he had to let the healers tend to her wounds so Geta himself could tend to the obscenity that had caused this mess. The threat needed to be vanquished.

Geta let the General lead him through the twists and turns of the palace until they were down in the dungeon.

It had been a while since Geta had been down here, it wasn't a place he frequented often. He sent people here, he sent a lot of people down here, but he didn't administrate the torture they received or visit them as they spent many days, weeks, sometimes even months down here.

If he ever unleashed his violence on people, it was usually up in the main quarters of the palace. In front of servants or an audience.

But this was different. This was a General that Geta had to deal with. And although the people of Rome would be understanding that someone hurting the Empress needed to be punished, they wouldn't take kindly to witnessing a General being slain.

This was a necessity. No one got away with harming the Emperor's wife. General Caius had taken liberties and Geta needed to show him that he wouldn't allow that and that the price was his life. He had to pay for his crimes.

His sandals clicked against the grime covered stones lining the floor, differing from the marble floor that was in many of the upstairs chambers of the palace. The torches did nothing to cast a good light around the dungeon, the lighting was dim but it glimmered off of Geta's golden armour.

He removed the sword from his belt and tossed it to one side. Caius didn't deserve a swift end. Geta wouldn't grant him that.

Once Acacius led him to one of the cells on the right and a guard unlocked the iron door, Geta lowered his head to step inside the small cell with an oval brick ceiling matching that of the wine cellar.

One brow arched and his head angled to the side, both to overlook the General and to stop his golden hair from touching the low ceiling. Geta's eyes narrowed in scrutiny and something of a smile formed across his lips as he looked over the doomed General.

Hands bound in shackles chained to the wall. On his knees where he belonged in the grime and dirt and puddles of water that leaked through the small slits in the ceiling that provided very little light. The General had his head lowered but once he lifted his chin, something seemed to wash over him and his skin turned pale.

Geta revelled in the way Caius shivered and how his chest started to rise and fall rapidly, sensing his impending doom at the sight of one of his Emperors stood before him.

Turning to the side, Geta overlooked the wooden table in the corner of the room right beside the door. Everything he needed to ensure a torturous death; everything from tongue clamps to iron pokers and a various assortment of blades.

With a deep breath and a wider smile, Geta waved his hand to dismiss Acacius. He didn't need a witness or any protection, and Caius was going to receive no mercy. Geta didn't want Acacius to try and vouch for this man or try to earn the sparing of his life. He was going to die, Geta had already decided upon it.

Once Acacius departed to wait outside the chamber, Geta crouched down in front of Caius. His arms perched on his thighs and a sickening grin lit up his face as he leaned in close to inspect the wounds on Caius. He reached out and roughly gripped Caius's chin, twisting his head from left to right to take a good look at his wife's handiwork. She shouldn't have needed to defend herself in the first place, but nonetheless, Geta was proud of her.

"My wife has wounded you well; I have come to finish the task."

Whatever had been stabbed into his eye had been removed, but the blood was still covering the eye socket and both eyelids had swollen shut over his eye. He stared across at the Emperor with only one good eye to witness his own demise. And there was a lovely puddle of blood gathering around his knees from a wound beneath his armour.

They hadn't bothered to call a healer for him. What use would it do to patch up a condemned man? He was already dead, he just hadn't known it until now.

He roughly let go of Caius's chin, allowing his head to drop down while he rose to his feet and turned to face the table of instruments. Geta's fingers danced across each one before he decided which one to use first.

When he crouched back down in front of the General, glee lit up his face when he saw the panic strike Caius right in the heart. His head began to shake and he tried to shuffle back, but Geta tutted. He should know better.

"Tsk-tsk. True Generals show no fear; and true Emperors shall show no mercy."

Caius had nowhere to move to, he was limited by the iron clasped around his wrists and the chain welded to the brick wall. He dropped from his knees to flop onto the floor with his heels scraping against the puddle of blood beneath him and his back slumped into the wall.

His good eye screwed shut and he swallowed down a groan when Geta gripped his face and squeezed his cheeks until he had no choice but to open his mouth. The iron clamp snapped down into Caius's tongue, earning a croaked groan as Geta pulled the clamp so his tongue was on display. He knew the General knew what this meant, he was sure the General had used this device before. The tongue was either twisted until the muscle snapped or it was held until a blade sliced through the muscle and the tongue was cut out.

Geta slowly rose to his feet, a sickening look crossing his face as he reached out for a suitable blade. He stood close and hovered over the General like a beacon of Death. The Emperor was the bridge between life and death, he would deliver the General personally to the Angel of death.

"When I am done with you, what's left can be fed to the beasts in the colosseum."

***

A grimace flooded Acacius's face and his nose scrunched up as he tried to hold his breath so he didn't gag or make a disgruntled sound. He was used to witnessing death, he saw it whenever he went into battle and when he oversaw the games at the colosseum.

But he had never witnessed the gruesome death of a fellow General before. And the sight of the Emperor in front of him was one that was rather unsettling.

Geta glided down the hall like he was walking on air and the calm look on his face contradicted the heinous act he had just carried out.

It was as if he didn't seem to notice his attire was not all that fitting of an Emperor, but it seemed more fair to say that he just didn't care. He didn't care that his golden armour gladding his chest was now smeared with blood. He didn't care about the clear, bloodied hand print on the base of his robes near his knee from where Caius had begged for mercy. In vain.

Geta didn't see a problem with his ghostly white features that were now painted with a mixture of blood and dirt.

He paid no mind to the blood and grit stuck beneath his short nails, or the tiny cuts to his fingers and the palms of his hands from where he had hacked blades into Caius's flesh.

The clothes he was wearing would have to be burned, there was no saving the mixture of white and gold cloth from the stains this afternoon's torment had littered them with. And Geta would need to bathe and soak in boiling water for at least an hour to rid every morsel of blood and grime from his body.

He didn't care.

The smile on his wicked features said as much as he waltzed down the hall until he reached his chambers.

He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to see how she was fairing, how her wounds had been treated and if she was feeling any better. And Geta wanted her to see and bask in the blood and guts that he was painted with like a massacred work of art. Geta wanted her to know that he had taken care of the threat posed to her. He wanted her to see that she was safe and know that whatever Caius had tried to do to her, he got his comeuppance ten times worse.

He had already made sure that the Princess was in her own room and therefore wouldn't have to see her father in this state. Geta knew the Princess wouldn't understand and would most likely think it was paint that was covering her father, but Geta still didn't want this memory imprinted on her small, innocent mind.

Geta opened the chamber doors like he was walking out into a bright summers day and taking his first gulp of fresh air.

He cast his eyes around the room, noticing his brother sat on the chair by the window with Dondus perched happily on his shoulder, chittering away. And when he looked towards the bed, he saw her. His wife, his reason for living, sat in the centre of the bed looking like she wanted to fall to sleep but couldn't quite manage the task yet.

When their eyes met, their silent gaze spoke a thousand unsaid words as Geta strode towards her. It was all their in his eyes, his smile, his attire and his now crimson skin.

She was safe. He had made sure of that.

#imagine #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #geta imagine #geta x reader #emperor caracalla #gladiator imagine #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie #emperor geta

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getatushh · 6 months ago

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I'm out here staring at ppl like this: 🤨 everytime someone says Geta wouldn't be a bottom or a sub or anything

Like wdym the man's who's had no proper maternal or paternal figures in his life, who so carefully hugs and comforts his brother, who looks so small and vulnerable in the scenes without his makeup, who practically attached himself to Macrinus for advice as soon as the other man who he'd been attached to (Acacius) betrayed him *isnt* a bottom? Like this man was a *young* emperor who was looking after himself and his 'crazy' brother who wished to be adored and remembered by his people.

THIS MAN WOULDVE BEEN A SUB AND EVEN IF HE WASNT, HE *NEEDS* IT.

Let this man be dommed!!!!!

(Same anon who said they were happy to see someone else who was passionate and matched their belief about bottom geta btw)

me too bro me too, i look with the very same face to everybody who says geta is a dom, dominant bottom ?? yeah sure, dom like in dom? nah hell nah

geta was (literally) caracalla's mother figure in some kind of way, wich is sad because in the movie we don't SEE any kind of model role (except you know who) for geta so he tried to be one to caracalla.

lord forbid both marcus acacius and macrinus for taking somewhat advantage of geta when all he wanted was someone to look at up to and someone who could finally protect him and embrace him with love and made him feel safe.

like it was all he wanted fr, since he was never allowed to show weakness, he just wanted someone he could he weak to.

and oh to be geta's sleeping robe to hug his finely made body, he looks so ethereal and pretty and delicate and vulnarable without his dramatic 2000s baddie makeup and formal attire.

honestly marcus acacius and lucius fumbled it bad bad bro cus if i was them and had this smeshxy young emperor literally asking me with his eyes to be bedded i wouldn't have think it twice.

NOO FRR HE WOULD'VE BEEN A BOTTOM LIKE KING OF THE BOTTOMS

#emperor geta #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn #gladiator movie #geta #joseph quinn geta #geta gladiator #gladiator ll #bottom geta #geta joseph quinn #lucius x geta #marcus x geta

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keeryhours · 7 months ago

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an heir for an emperor - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

The Emperor wants an heir.

part 2 out now!

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), major breeding kink, porn no plot

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N:

This is inspired by a character letter I got that I can’t stop thinking about. If this is historically incorrect I’m so sorry, I’m just horny as hell for this man.

—

It had been three blissful months of marriage with Geta.

The ruthless emperor was something different when he was alone with you. A side of him no one else was privileged to see. He was soft, affectionate, eyes only for you.

He knew you didn’t care for the bloodshed of the games, but he loved having you accompany him all the same. He would distract you when things got to be too much, holding your hand and even turning his attention away from the spectacle to comfort you if you needed it.

He couldn’t show his soft side in public often, but his love and adoration for you was obvious.

You enjoyed the finer things in life. You loved to attend the theatre, the plays and displays of beautiful music. Music was your favorite thing, and you loved to sing. Your singing voice was of the angels, as Geta would say, and oh how he loved to make you sing.

One thing both you and Geta were looking forward to was producing an heir. You had always wanted a family. You had felt the call of motherhood since you were a child, dreaming of the day you would marry and bear children. You hadn’t even fathomed of being an Empress, however.

You came from a rich family, and always knew you would marry highly, but Geta had been unexpected. The second he laid eyes on you, he knew you were to be his. You had no choice in the matter, but you would have chosen him a million times over anyway.

He had planned a romantic weekend getaway for the two of you alone, in one of his villas outside of the city. Leaving Rome in the hands of his brother and the Senate wasn’t ideal, but he wanted the chance to spend time with his beloved without interruption.

“You look divine, Carissima,” Geta remarked in adoration, his hands roaming the fabric of your tunic, gaze hungry. He pulled the fabric higher, lifting it up and over your body. “You will provide me with the most perfect heir.”

Naked before him, your nipples peaked among the cool air on your body, Geta dipping his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it, tongue running over the sensitive bud. You moaned, hand resting on the back of his head. He moved to the other, giving it equal attention.

He lay you gently down on the bed, before removing his own clothing and moving over top of you. His crown still sat atop his ginger locks, and he looked as regal as ever, bared to you and cock achingly hard, all for you.

“I never imagined I would have such a luminous beauty as my wife,” he hummed, lips trailing along the skin of your neck. “Never could I have imagined a beauty like yours existed. You are sent from the gods themselves.”

“As are you, my beloved,” you said, eyes falling closed at the feeling of your husband’s lips upon your body. “You are more than I ever could have hoped for.”

Geta smiled tenderly, before pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back eagerly, hands sliding around his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your palms, your innocent touch making him impossibly harder against your thigh. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, and you let him inside, tongues dancing together.

He rested his weight on one arm while the other roamed the soft skin of your side, making you shiver beneath his touch. “Magnificent,” he remarked purely to himself. “Beautiful.”

He pulled away from you, sitting on his knees as he spread your legs for his view. You took in the visage of your Emperor before you, looking regal as ever as he gazed down at your core like it was his next meal.

“Just a taste, Carissima, before I fill you,” he said, moving down between your legs. You gasped as you felt his tongue against your pussy, licking up to your clit, where he sucked gently, causing your back to arch off the bed.

“Geta-!”

He hummed in appreciation, a smirk felt against you as he continued to devour you, lapping up all your slick like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. You moaned loudly - no one would be able to hear you here, you were in Geta’s private villa far from the bustle of the city. It was the most uninhibited you had felt as you let the proof of how good your Emperor made you feel fill the air.

“That’s it, my love, sing for me,” Geta praised you, before dipping his tongue into your hole, driving you mad. You grabbed onto his hair as you felt your orgasm approaching, needing to hold onto something. Geta chuckled lowly as he grabbed onto your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for him.

“I’m…I’m…”

“I know, darling, let go for me,” He said, moving back up to pay special attention to your clit once more. The harsh suck he left on the sensitive bud sent you over the edge, and you were cumming hard, grinding against his face as he moaned and eagerly licked up all you gave him.

When he rose from between your legs, his mouth and chin glistened with your wetness. He looked absolutely sinful. He wrapped his hand around his cock, rings glittering on his fingers. He pumped himself a few times as he looked down at your already-wrecked body.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed so deeply, my love. Over and over again until it takes, until I get to see your belly round and full with my heir.”

You wanted that more than anything, the idea making your heart race in your chest. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance, and he leaned over your body again as he pushed inside.

It had only been three months, so you were still getting used to the intrusion of him when you’d lay together like this. You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers digging into the strong muscle of his biceps.

“You can take it, my love. So good for me - gods, so tight and hot.” He began a slow pace, mindful of letting you adjust to the size of him. He groaned beautifully as he began thrusting into you, and you were struck with how lucky you were to see your Emperor like this, so open and vulnerable, face contorted in pleasure because of you.

“Are you ready for me to move faster?” he asked, voice strained from holding back his true desire. The Emperor pleaded with no one, but his eyes told a different story.

“Yes, please,” you breathed, now that the pain has faded you wanted, needed more. “Please, Geta, need you to fill me.”

Geta groaned loudly, hips stuttering against you as he picked up his pace. He was truly fucking you now, left hand gripping your hip to hold you where he wanted you as he pounded into you. “I will do just that, Carissima, fill you so deeply with my heir. I wish to see you, glowing and beautiful with child. I will hold games in your honor.”

He pressed his lips to yours once again, kissing you deeply, showing you just how much he loved you with his body. Between the feeling of his glorious cock pressing deeply inside of you, pressing against that perfect spot he reached every time.

“You are magnificent,” he moaned, regal head thrown back on his shoulders, muscles clenching as he fought off his release. “Divine. Miraculous. All mine.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you writhed beneath his movements, and he moved his free hand to caress the side of your face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my Emperor,” you said, returning all the affection in his gaze.

“Need to feel you cum for me, my love,” he said, hips picking up speed as his own release approached rapidly. He moved to grip your thigh around his waist, moving into you at a new angle that had you seeing stars.

You cried out as your second orgasm hit, and Geta smiled cockily, knowing he was the only one who could bring you such pleasure, the only one privileged to see you like this, falling apart on his cock for him.

“Oh gods, Geta, yes-!”

“That’s it, my love, let me hear you,” Geta rasped out, his own release hitting him seconds later. “Take me, my beloved, take all of my seed! Gods yes, let me fill you, take it all,” he rambled on as he shot ropes of his hot cum deep inside you, pushing in as deep as possible to not waste a drop.

He stayed buried inside you as you both caught your breath. His strong chest was heaving with his heavy breaths, and he tenderly combed his fingers through your hair, looking at you with such love it made your heart stutter in your chest.

When he pulled out, he looked between your legs, gathering up his release that had spilled out of you with his fingers and pressing it back inside. “Cannot afford to waste a drop, Carissima,” he told you with a smile.

You giggled, totally blissed out from the pleasure he had just provided you. He lay his naked body on the bed next to you, resting his hand on your stomach.

“I truly cannot wait to see you carrying my heir,” he mused quietly, fingers rubbing circles into the skin of your abdomen, as if he were picturing it. “Our child.”

“Neither can I,” you told him, a blissful smile on your face.

“I would do this over and over again, as many times as it takes.”

You laughed, snuggling against the side of your Emperor. “I know you would.” You hummed, fingers trailing over the taut skin of his muscular chest. “I love you.”

“And I you, my beloved.”

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getatushh · 6 months ago

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THE REALEST POST I'VE EVER SEEN

#that look in acacius eyes....#geta gladiator #joseph quinn edit #bottom geta #joseph quinn geta #geta #boypussy geta #emperor geta x marcus acacius #geta x marcus acacius #marceta #marcus x geta #pedro pascal marcus acacius

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trulyumai · 1 year ago

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To Honor Your Husband

pairing: emperor geta, reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: violence, mention of blood.

synopsis: Through it all, it was you who remained by Geta's side. Even he couldn't ignore such an obvious act of devotion.

Enjoy!

The marble floors lit up in flashing waves. The hanging torches ignited the chambers with astute precision, cascading the emperor's eyes in a sheen, orange glow.

He was upset; veins popped up angrily upon the man’s pale head, winding their way across the expansion of his temple.

You sat there, precariously upon the bed, unable to move, to say a word of comfort.

For the emperor was furious; what was to ease his ever rising temper?

Certainly not you. You learned from your mistakes. Still feeling the tingle and scratch his rings made on your cheekbone.

The last attempt you made— a month ago? You couldn’t tell, Time was ever lost on you as of late.

You remembered Reaching out a hand, wanting to shush his worries, the incessant scratching of his knuckles.

But he had turned too quick— too fast. you could do nothing but watch and wait.

Watch as the maroon ring crashes down upon the side of your face. Head swinging to the side, cold blood ran down your cheek, dribbling just past your chin. Staining the white and gold lace that had adorned your frame comfortably.

It was your favorite piece

It lay in ashes now. Burnt just the night after, permanently ruined by the invasion of blood that seeped into its cloth.

He had said nothing. No apology, no look of remorse.

He only spit in your direction, yelled at how foolish—useless you were to the crown. To him.

“To think I married such a whore.” He sneered, shaking off the blood that dotted across the back of his hand.

Tears stuck upon your lashes, until they sank down, wetting the pink and bloody patches with ease.

Noticing the tears the emperor let out a cruel laugh. His lips twisted back in a way that scared you; unable to recognize such a hateful display upon your husband.

Blatantly laughing at your very being.

His hand grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together with a terrible force until the bones in your jaw popped with the pressure.

“Look at you,” he tutted. His darkened eyes seeped across your trembling form, watching as your hands came up to his flexed one, weakly pushing at his jeweled fingers.

“Tell me to stop.” Crazed eyes looked into your scared ones, unable to procure the man from houlting his assault on your cheeks, your smaller hands gave up their hold, and swung down back at the sides.

“Tell me!” The emperor demanded.

It was a trap, you knew it was. For no one could tell Emperor Geta what he would do.

What he couldn’t do.

So you said nothing. You let the man squeeze and pull at your face— scratching it here and there with the beds of his nails.

“Pathetic.” Shoving you away, the bottom of your dress caught between your feet, sweeping your form off the ground in a solid, single moment.

You remembered looking up at him— vision blurry and wobbly from the vast amount of liquid pouring down your eyes.

He looked monstrous— truly the epitome of a villainous emperor. You wished for different tidings. Different outcomes.

Not to be here, sullying your reputation in some grandiose temple, with a man who could care less about your health.

Suddenly— movement dashed across your sight. Breaking you from the past thoughts that plagued your mind.

“Wife,” Geta called out. His form slack, sitting by the edge of the bed with his head slumped between his shoulders.

You hummed back, not wanting to displease him so early in the night.

“Am I not… worthy?”

You stared.

“Worthy… of what, dear husband?”

Confusion etched upon your brow, a crease formed between them.

Geta’s hand came up, idly swinging and gesturing to the expansion of the room.

“Everything. Anything.”

“You’re the emperor. Of course you-”

“No! Without my title, without my wealth, am I worthy?”

His fist gripped onto the porcelain sheets, tightly winding them into his hold until blue veins sprouted out upon the pale flesh.

You didn't understand- was this another trick, another ruse?

“You… Are an honorable man, a husband-

“Just a husband?” a deep chuckle left the man's lips, it was harsh and short.

“Not just a husband. My husband, my emperor.” His gaze lifted to meet yours, form now stiff and straightened from the tensing muscles.

“I've abused you, belittled you.”

A shuddering breath escaped you, a bead of sweat formed upon the side of your head.

“Yes,”

“I've ashamed you.”

A pause. The tension was thick, it molded across the room in waves like a pulsing heat.

“You’ve hurt me, shut me out, made me look like a fool in front of the people.”

What were you doing, shut up, shut up, shut-

“And have made me question my intentions… my life.”

His eyes never left your form, he watched as your fingers shook, how they absentmindedly played with the loose strings upon the cotton covers.

“But,”

“But?” he jutted in. You realized then just how desperate he looked. How the look of longing passed between the cover of anger and contempt.

“But, you're my husband. I have sworn my body, my soul to you. Through it all, even if the senate- the citizens were to turn their back upon you, I would be there- here, with you.”

He wanted to burst out laughing at such a loving display. In a way, he despised how easily his wife could ease him so, just by letting out a few poetic lines to scrape by his mind.

But another part of him wanted, no, needed to hear such prattling over his being.

He wanted to be loved, not just for being an emperor.

But for being him.

He wanted to be honored.

To be worthy.

Like you.

He despised it, envied it.

Loved it.

You saw how his eyes lit up once more, a fiery auburn rose inside the retna’s and you knew then it was time for silence. His walls were lifted up again, shoving you as far as he possibly could.

“Seek slumber, dear wife.” His armor clattered with his sudden movement. He walked towards the stone walkway, leading out towards the chambers.

You were so close, so close to getting to him. You saw how he slackened with each sweetened word. How his eyes relaxed on your form with comfortability. It wouldn't end like this, not when you were near a new level with him.

“Geta?”

The words fluttered from your mouth. A desperate chill ran across your body, crawling up your spine until it met with the back of your neck.

The emperor stood still, his armor rang out no more as his movement halted with the desperation seized upon your voice.

The way you spoke his name.

Gods.

The man began tightening his fist, over and over so his fingers tensed with pressure.

“What?”

“I love you.”

The man hadn’t meant to flinch, back bending with a subconscious twitch of surprise. He wanted to make you eat those words- shove his ringed fingers down your throat until bile burned the tips of his flesh.

But,

In a way, it was nice hearing those words fall effortlessly from someone as loving as you. Without forcing, demanding them to spill from your pretty pink lips.

A groan spilled from his mouth- low and barely audible. He turned quickly to drown it out.

“Of course you do,” a teasing, mean smile lit up his face. His lips raised, white teeth gleamed against the light.

Wasting no more time, the emperor resumed his exit, leaving you alone, to mull over the affections of a broken lord.

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #movie #cinema #fanfiction #angst #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #geta x you #emperor geta x you #joe quinn #pedro pascal

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strawbbzombwie · 1 year ago

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Treasure.

Warnings: This is definitely not historically accurate but I’ll try my best😭 18+ so MDNI!! Emperor geta x fem!reader, Geta is possessive asf, P in v smut, loss of virginity, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, Geta and reader are newly married.

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: This is my first proper time writing a fanfic so I hope it’s alright and you enjoy it!!🫶🫶

“You seem nervous.” Geta spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts. You set eyes on your new husband, his back facing you as he set down the chalice of wine he held in his hand.

Your eyes scanned the chambers now belonging to you and him, dimly lit with candles casting a shadow over Geta. The nervous pit in your stomach grew more and more unbearable as time went on. Finally, his eyes met yours.

“Should I be nervous?” You muttered. He smirked at you, his dark eyes gazing into yours and scanning the rest of your body, practically undressing you with his eyes. You wore a white tunic adorned with a golden belt tied around your waist, your wrist covered with a golden bracelet and now a golden ring on your finger.

To Geta, you were an angel sent from the heavens themselves. He felt proud to call you his wife, proud he got to call you his before any other man could. To him, you were his treasure, his most prized possession and his empress.

“Of course not. I won’t hurt you.” He smiled at you, running his hand across your soft skin. You felt his calloused fingers run down your face, his cold rings making you shiver. You looked up at him, smiling back at him. His thumb grazed across your bottom lip. You could feel your face growing warm, the nervous feeling in your stomach disappearing and being replaced with arousal.

He cupped your face in his hand and interlocked his lips with yours, sharing a passionate kiss. His lips felt soft against your own, the sweet but bitter taste of wine now invading your mouth. It felt intoxicating, sharing an intimate moment with your new husband felt comforting to you but the slight ache between your legs grew more agonising the more time he spent kissing you.

His hand left your face, moving to your shoulder and slipping the fabric down and then down to your belt, untying the knot and letting it fall down onto the floor, your tunic pooling around you shortly afterwards.

You felt vulnerable. There you were, completely exposed and at his mercy. You felt his soft lips leave yours and watched as he took a step back to look at you. He looked you up and down, the smile on his face clear as day.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re all mine.” He said, lust dripping from his voice. Those last two words made your knees weak.

“All mine.”

He was right, you were all his. You were his empress, his wife, the mother to his future children. You were his and belonged to no one else. You were his to fuck. To claim. To breed. If anyone else were so much as to look in your direction, he would kill them with his own hands.

“I’m all yours..” you mutter, arousal pooling between your thighs. He grinned, leading you to the bed now belonging to you and him.

“Lay down.” He commanded, beginning to take off his own garments. You obeyed, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him undress. You began to feel nervous again. There was no denying that Geta has had sex before. You on the other hand, were still a virgin. Geta could see the panic on your face and speaks up.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start slow so it wont hurt. I wouldn’t dream of hurting a pretty girl like you.” He reassured you, the praise causing you to hold back a moan. He finally finished untying his belt, also letting his robes fall to the floor. Your eyes immediately went down to his cock. Now you understood why he carried himself with confidence.

He was thick, not too big but big enough to make you feel nervous and he was fully hard, the tip red and angry resting against his stomach leaking precum.

Your eyes widened, brows furrowing in worry as you now realised that this was truly happening, you were about to lose your virginity. Geta walked up to you and sat down next to you, pressing soft kisses on your jawline and down your neck, causing a moan to slip out of your mouth.

“Relax and let me make you feel good” he groaned, his hand caressing your body, resting on your stomach, his rings making you jump.

“Soon enough you will be carrying our heir. The future emperor of Rome.” He whispers in your ear, his warm breath causing you to shiver. He leans down, pressing a kiss onto your stomach and kissing up your body, your tits and eventually back to your neck.

His hand wandered further down until it was between your legs, lightly grazing his fingers across your cunt, causing you to moan out. It was music to his ears. He wanted to make you a moaning mess only for his ears to hear, only for him. It made him proud, knowing he would be the one making you moan and whine in pleasure, knowing he would be the one making you cum around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your orgasms.

His index finger pressed against your clit, beginning to rub it in slow circular motions. Your head fell back and moans of pleasure began to fall out of your mouth. You felt your body grow weak.

“You’re doing to well for me.” He said, a smirk growing on his face as he took his finger off your clit and pressed it against your entrance, feeling your slick coat his fingers. He slowly pushed his finger inside of you, causing you to yelp out. It hurt but the pain was quickly replaced by pleasure as he began moving his finger in and out of you, quickly finding that spot within you that made you grip onto his arm.

You could feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter as he inserted another finger, his palm bumping against your clit. His eyes were dark with lust as his gaze met yours, lips interlocking with one another’s as you came undone with his fingers.

He moved away from you, removing his fingers from you and bringing them up to his mouth, tasting the slick coating them. You whined at the empty feeling but could not take your eyes off the sight in front of you.

“You taste divine.” He says, removing his fingers from his mouth and moving so he’s situated between your thighs, gazing down at his lovely wife. He gathered your arousal on his fingers and coated it on his cock, adjusting himself so he is pressed against your entrance.

“You’ll feel great I promise.” He whispers, slowly pushing himself inside of you, causing you to whimper in pain while he bottomed out. He took his time, letting you adjust to him inside of you before slowly thrusting in and out.

Moans began falling out of your mouth as your hands gripped the bedsheets, your tits bouncing with every thrust. Your legs wrapped around his hips, wanting him to be closer to you.

Geta was watching you unravel right in front of him, watching how your tits bounced every time he thrusted into you, watching how your eyes rolled back in pleasure. It made him proud, knowing he was finally claiming you as his own. He could feel his own orgasm building up as he moved his hand to rub fast circles on your clit as he quickened his pace.

The knot in your stomach became unbearable as your sounds of ecstasy grew louder, your hands gripping to Geta’s arms.

“Go on. Cum for me.” He moans out, causing the knot to snap and for you to come undone around his cock, twitching in pleasure. Geta’s thrusts began to grow sloppy as he unravels in front of you, spilling his seed inside your pussy.

A few moments pass and you are both a sweaty, panting mess. He pulls out of you and watches the cum leak out from you, scooping it up and pushing it back inside you with his fingers. You quietly moaned at the sensation.

“Can’t have any go to waste can we?” He smiled. You slowly shook your head, eyes growing tired as your body begins to feel heavy. Geta lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your cheek.

“You did so well for me.” He mumbled into your ear, his hot breath feeling comforting as you both begin feeling tired. His hand finds its way to your stomach again, rubbing small and slow circles around it. You feel your eyes begin to close as you hear your husband say something before you drift off to sleep.

“My perfect treasure.”

I really hope you enjoyed reading this I loved making it and hopefully I will write more soon!!This is my first fic so it may not be as good as ones I write in the future but I’m super proud of it!!💖💖

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #gladiator #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x fem!reader #gladiator ii

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getatushh · 6 months ago

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SO TRUEEEEEE

geta just needs a big, strong man to dom him!

#emperor geta #gladiator 2 #geta x marcus acacius #bottom geta #lucius x geta #lucius verus #marcus acacius

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cherrysweets-world · 6 months ago

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Eyes of the Gods VI

series masterlist - part five

Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary: Your relationship with the Emperors develops further and you are forced to trust them.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, dub-con, mentions of past domestic violence, toxic/unhealthy relationships, controlling behavior, possessive behavior, unedited

Word Count: 3.1k

It was not until the doors closed behind you that you fully understood the gravity of the situation. Caracalla stood in the centre of the main room, chest heaving, fists clenched. Streaks of blood still decorated his hands and lower arms.

It was like that first night in some ways. Only Caracalla had been mostly afraid that night; now, he was angry.

"Emperor," you tried, "shall I go fetch Dondus-"

"No!" he cried, throwing his arms out. They collided with a vase and it shattered onto the marble floor. You stifled a whimper and straightened your spine. Another glass followed in quick succession and you could only watch as he became a whirlwind of flying ornaments and red hair.

"Even Dondus cannot help me," he bemoaned, finally sinking to the floor amongst the porcelain. "No against the liars and traitors that have infiltrated this hellish place. They would see me killed."

He was speaking so rapidly that spittle was flying from his red lips. He raked a hand through his curls and dragged it down his face, smearing a mixture of blood and tears.

You did not feel fully confident in your own words. Not when he was so worked up. Thinking quickly, you opened the door again and requested a warm bowl of water, some ointment and a cloth.

You flinched at the ferocity in Caracalla's eyes when you turned back around, bowl in hand. The room was dark, lit only by flickering candlelight in the section you were currently in. He looked tortured, furious, but you swallowed down your apprehension and cautiously approached him.

"Were you going to leave just then?" he said, unblinking.

You set the bowl on a table. "Of course not. I wanted to get some things so I could attend to you, Caracalla."

It had been a gamble using his name, despite the fact that he was the one who had told you to. Fortunately it had the desired effect and his shoulders slumped a little, his eyes flickering.

"You're standing on porcelain," you held out your hands, "come, I do not wish to see your injured."

He grasped your hands with a surprisingly strong grip and allowed himself to be pulled from the mess. You went to turn around and ask the guards to send someone to clean it but he held you tight and shook his head, lip curling.

"Alright," you agreed, "but we must be careful. Where are the matches?"

Caracalla held still as you ventured deeper into his chambers. Like Geta's, they were larger than anything you could have even imagined. It took several moments to get the place fully lit.

Caracalla's rooms were a sad reflection of his own mind. Books spilled across the floor, bedding that had clearly been made and then torn up. His desk was cluttered with papers and ink spills. There were many, many candles. Most of them had been entirely burned down. You wondered how many nights he had spent here, alone, working himself into a frenzy.

Once you were ready, you went back to him and collected your supplies. He followed you without you having to say anything. You lead him to the bed and gestured for him to sit down, pulling over a small chair and balancing the steaming bowl on top of it.

"Do you mind if I check your feet?" you asked.

Caracalla shook his head. You unlaced his sandals and peered at the bottom of his feet. Apart from a few scratches on the side, he was uninjured.

You dipped your cloth into the water and pressed it onto the scratches to make sure they weren't more serious than they appeared. Afterwards you dabbed them with ointment to speed up the healing process.

What kind of treatment would the concubine Caracalla had set upon receive? If you did not continuously remind yourself of the people who were hurt as a result of the emperors you feared you would feel too much sympathy for them. Already you felt more than expected.

"Can I see your hands?"

Obediently he held them out. Dabbing the cloth into the water, you began the slow process of cleaning up his hands. The blood was mostly not his own but there was a rather deep cut on his pointer finger.

The water became murky as you cleaned him, knees pressed into the floor at his feet. The blood turned dark in the water and you could smell iron. You did not pause in your work.

When you were done, Caracalla leaned forward, breath dusting across your cheeks. When he was so close you could see the scars on his cheeks, white makeup hastily applied over them. There were streaks in the makeup from his tears. It was difficult not to see him for the human he was when he was up close.

"And you? Are you hurt?" he questioned.

"I am fine," you tried to smile, sensing a change in the air.

When you got to your feet, Caracalla's hands shot out to grasp your waist. They were hot through the fabric of your stola and you stilled.

"I think," he breathed heavily, "that I should check."

His eyes turned dark with desire and you swayed under the intensity of it. The mood had changed so fast that your head was spinning atop your shoulders.

Your skin prickled with gooseflesh as Caracalla's thumbs swiped across the fabric at your waist. He was unashamed; eyes roaming your face and jumping lower and lower with every second. Your own hands were resting on his forearms as though you might dare to stop him.

"Is that a command?" you asked.

Caracalla smiled, gold tooth winking in the light. "I do not think I have to command you."

Shame coursed through you. You should have felt disgust or reluctance. Instead you were overwhelmed by the ball of want that was tightening your stomach.

You were a woman with needs, desires. The attractiveness of the emperors had never been up for debate. Any interest had been previously squashed by horror but that was not the primary emotion you felt when you looked at Caracalla.

You had been around them so often that you guard had lowered without your permission. Perhaps you were a traitor - not to Caracalla, but to yourself.

"I thought I dreamed you," Caracalla continued, hands rising, "and I thought I was dreaming still when I saw the way you looked at me."

"With kindness? With care?" you tried.

"Those things too," he admitted, "but more. What was it you said before? I think I do not have to take. I think you want to give."

It was not true. You tried to take a step back but Caracalla followed you, backing you against the wall. His eyes were greedily drinking in every expression you made, fixated on your face.

"It's okay," he soothed, nosing at your jawline. "I'll take care of you, too."

His hand secured itself at the back of your neck and you sucked in a breath. Caracalla looked at you one last time before closing the distance and kissing you.

His lips were rough from where he'd bitten them. The pressure varied from intense to lighter, searching for your reciprocation. You could not help it. Your instinct and had always been to calm him and you felt yourself lean in, opening your mouth so he could explore.

His hands were working steadily at your stola, yanking the shoulders down until they tore and exposed your breasts. At that he leant back, taking in the sight of you.

"I have thought of this a thousand times," he muttered, shaky hands coming up to cup your chest and urge a gasp from your lips.

Caracalla leaned down and you watched as his mouth closed around the tip of your breast. You tried to turn your head and bring your palm up to cover your mouth but he yanked your hand away and directed it to his head.

His curls were soft beneath your fingers and you could not help but squeeze. The sensation drove a moan from Caracalla and his teeth grazed your nipple, creating the pain you had always expected to experience with him. His hands travelled from your back to your ass, urging you to hike your leg higher around his hips.

In that position his desire was unavoidable. You could feel the hard line of him pressing against you through your clothes and your knees almost buckled. Caracalla used his body to pin you against the wall. You felt like a pinned butterfly, almost entirely on display.

Whatever spell you were under broke when you registered the sound of the door opening and closing. You writhed away from Caracalla, snatching your stola from where it had pooled at your waist and pulling it up to your neck.

Caracalla was torn between hurt and sexual frustration. He palmed at his erection through his clothes and frowned, holding out his hand as though you were going to run right back to him.

Geta appeared and you wanted to melt from shame. Your hands twisted in your clothes at the speechless expression on his face. You could only imagine what he thought he was going to walk in to after he had seen all the broken glass and factored in Caracalla's rage at the gathering. It would not have been the first time a slave or servant had died at the hands of the emperors.

"You always ruin things," Caracalla sneered, shoving half heartedly at his brother.

Geta still said nothing, his eyes darting from his brother to you. Last night he had been so sure that you had tried to escape, only to find you in the arms of his brother. It was likely you appeared as confused as you felt.

Caracalla called your name and tried again, "Come back to me."

"I-I-," you attempted to speak but your throat was crushed under the weight of your embarrassment.

Without thinking, you slipped past them both and ran for the doors. You must have caught them by surprise because you managed to escape, the soles of your feet stinging from the glass you'd ran through. The sandals had not protected you the way they had Caracalla but you did not stop.

If the Praetorians were surprised at your state of undress and obvious distress, they did not say. You heard raised voices behind you but continued to run. Hot tears of humiliation lapped at your cheeks and you could not wipe them away. Your hands were the only thing holding up your clothing.

There was little point to running. You had nowhere to go. The only place that even felt remotely safe was your little room. You slowed down as you approached, finally lifting your torn stola to swipe at the tears as you began to calm down. You just needed a moment to yourself, a moment to think. The only person you could rely upon was yourself but you were becoming unpredictable.

Your steps faltered. The door to your room was hanging open, swaying lightly in some phantom wind. A big section of the wood had been broken away as though someone had been trying to get inside.

Had successfully gotten inside, you corrected yourself. You stood in the doorway to your room, jaw hanging open. Considering you had almost nothing to your name, whoever had broken in had done a great job of turning the place upside down.

A blanket of silence had enveloped the place. You felt as though the gods were holding their breath, anticipating your reaction.

The bedside table was smashed. Sections of the wooden bed frame had also been torn at and your clothing had been ripped to shreds so thin that it took you a second to recognize them. Straw had been pulled from the mattress and decorated almost every inch of the floor.

There was an unfamiliar scent in the air; the scent of the intruder. Your nose wrinkled and your stomach roiled. You felt violated.

It took you a moment to spot your carving amongst the straw. You gasped, bending down to pick it up.

"No, no, no," you cries became increasingly louder. "No!"

The piece you had picked up was only a part of the carving. The wolf's head was cracked in your hand and as you scanned the floor you realized you were probably lucky to have even found this piece.

What was happening? You could not comprehend what would provoke someone to do this. A memory arose of a similar scene; you, your mother. Your father yelling as he destroyed your small home in a similar fashion. The wolf had survived then. Not this time.

It took you a moment to register the voices behind you.

"What is this?" Geta's eyes scanned the room. "Did you do this?"

"No," you said, numb. You twisted the broken head in your fingers, splinters embedding themselves in your skin.

Geta strode over to you and peered over your shoulder. When he saw what you were holding he swore. You heard him fumbling about behind you and jolted when he reappeared holding a scrap of your clothing.

"Give that to me," he ordered. He used the clothing to safely wrap the remainder of your childhood and then pressed it back into your hand. "Praetorians!"

Caracalla had followed closely behind his brother and seemed equally as stunned at the state of your room. He stepped carefully around chunks of wood until he was able to slide his hands into your armpits and hoist you to your feet.

"Stay close," he warned, eerily lucid.

"What?" you stammered. "I - I do not understand. Why would someone - "

"The why is irrelevant!" Geta yelled. He was talking to a group of Praetorians just outside your room. "The how is crucial. How did someone manage to come this close to the quarters of the emperors, destroy a room, and slip out unnoticed?"

You thought of your own brief exploration of the gardens the night before. It had been hardly ten minutes before Geta had appeared. You had thought it was perhaps easier to sneak out than in - now you thought differently.

"Brother, take her to your rooms." Geta commanded. "Follow them closely!"

You were too shaken to argue and Caracalla's grip on you was iron tight. Your hands trembled at your neck where they were still holding up your stola, broken wolf pressed between your palms. Six Praetorians accompanied you the short distance back to Caracalla's rooms and you could hear Geta screaming the entire time.

"I do not care if you have to interrogate every single person in this palace, I want the culprit found by morning!"

You shivered. You would not want to be on the receiving end of that. You waited for the pity to rise at the thought of someone being tortured for what they had done to your room. Then you felt the broken shards of wood pressing into your palm and they helped you swallow any empathy you might have felt.

The walk to Caracalla's room felt like a mere blink. Lights flickered on all around the palace as everyone was awoken by Geta's yelling. You wondered what your friends down in the kitchen would think of it all.

Caracalla helped you into his bed and you went without protest. He had stripped you down to nothing and for a moment you thought he might try to start up what you were doing earlier. Instead he wrapped you in white linen, tucking it tightly around you. He did not try to take your wolf.

Once he was dressed in a similar fashion, he slid right in beside you. The bed was jarringly comfortable. You used the pillows to prop yourself up and did not move away when Caracalla pressed himself tightly to your side.

The pair of you sat in silence for several minutes as you attempted to process what had happened in the last few hours.

"I don’t understand," you finally said. "Why would someone do that?"

"To hurt you," he answered, tracing patterns on your bare arms. "Perhaps they would have done worse if they had come across you."

You did not miss the pointed tone in his voice. It had been foolish to flee his rooms the way you had. And what if he had not dragged you from the entertainment hall earlier? What if you had been in your room when the culprit had gone there?

For once you felt as though you understood Caracalla's paranoia. How could you get over someone wanting to cause you harm? And, even worse, you would have to walk around without knowing who it was. They could attack you at any moment.

As if reading your thoughts, Caracalla said, "Do not worry. We shall catch the vermin and have them hung."

The words had no effect on you. Partially because you did not see how they would be able to catch the person who did this. Partially because the idea of having them hung appealed to you in ways that should have made you sick but did not.

Kill or be killed, you thought.

Geta entered Caracalla's rooms almost an hour later. Both of you were still awake.

"What happened?" you asked, desperate for information.

Geta paused at the foot of Caracalla's bed, eyeing the pair of you with a funny look on his face. He smoothed it out before replying, "The Praetorians are combing over the place as we speak. I have ten stationed outside the door right now."

You slumped. Whoever had done it had yet to be uncovered.

"They will be found," Geta spat. "That was not the first incident we have had to deal with here and it shall serve as a lesson to others."

Something about the way he spoke made you look at him closely. His hair was in disarray and his eyes were watery. The fact that you had been in danger tonight meant that they also had been in danger. Geta was furious but you could see the underlying stress.

"Are you staying here as well?" the question slipped out before you could think about it.

Geta's lips trembled. "It would be safest. For you."

Wordless, you peeled back the covers on your left side. The most dangerous people in your world were somehow the ones currently making you feel safest. It evoked emotions that you did not care to think about; you were too exhausted and angry to see beyond the present moment.

Caracalla wrapped himself around you as though he thought you might try to escape. Geta joined the pair of you in bed after he had put out all the candles, leaving only the moon to illuminate the bed and surrounding furniture.

You pushed the remains of your wolf under the pillow, let your eyes close and tried not to think too hard about the possessive hand Geta placed on your stomach.

Author’s Note - Reader's world is growing smaller. Please, please let me know what you think! Asks, comments, likes and reblogs are hugely motivating and rewarding for me🥹

Taglist - @only4thefics @doodle-with-rhy @lover-rep-fanfic @claraisme23 @sashaphantomhive @multifandombtch @t6gse370

@merrymunsons @europixie @prestinalove @malfoycassimalfoy

@jovial-cowboy @akamitrani @bocreep @justasmallbean @moompie @duckyhowls @justlibra @mama-frog @fionaapplelover2010

@verypoetrytraveler @darleniweenie

@feral-postings @honey-eyed-munson @an34l

#eyes of the gods #emperor caracalla x reader #emperor geta x reader #fred hechinger #emperor caracalla #joseph quinn #emperor geta #caracalla x reader x geta #dividers by enchanthing

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago

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Geta’s kisses were strong, possessive as though he was intentionally making himself envious of the idea that your lips had been touched by another before him.

His hand could be found at your neck more often than not, squeezing it now and then as though to remind you of who was the more dominate one out of the two of you, his thumb would even caress the pulse on your neck to see whether he was doing things that made your heart work a little harder.

His kisses were hot and soft at the same time. yet firm and had a way of leaving you a little breathless afterwards. He’s a man that has everything and yet he still heavily influenced by human greed and desire for even more, so much more despite controlling an already dominating empire.

So to say his kisses weren’t also demanding for more and more of you was an understatement as he would always find the need to deepen the kiss, invade your mouth with his tongue after demanding entrance before taking complete control. His kisses didn’t allow you to be in control anytime at all, for Geta always needs to be in content power no matter what for he doesn’t like the feeling of being weak or easily overthrown in anything.

Yet let’s say after an almost successful assassination attempt on either of your lives, Geta’s kisses become more of a celebration of living, a reminder that you were both still alive despite what the gods chose to throw at you and how you both continue to thrive regardless. His kisses were also ones of relief that his reign got to continue but also that you weren’t taken from him unceremoniously, not that he would ever admit it to you but he wasn’t quiet ready to give you up just yet, not when he was heavily indulging on the taste of your lips and how nicely you slot against him.

Caracalla’s kisses were bruising and felt rough, rushed as though he was running out of time and he wanted to taste every last part of you before so, even if meant suffering through his harsh bites to your bottom lip and causing it to bleed somewhat before slipping his tongue in.

His kisses left your lips aching and had a lingering tingling feeling of pain, it made you wonder if the man smiling before you was capable of a softer and less intense way to express his innermost passion and love. He was, it was just extraordinary rare that you were led to believe you married a man whose only emotions was sadistic and lustful.

Yet on the rare one off occasion where he’d be feeling soft and affectionate his kisses became soft, almost featherlight, and tender as he scattered them across your jaw, neck and collar bone as though he was eagerly chasing after something as you ran your fingers through his fiery hair in content. His kisses were almost desperate to keep you with him, to remind you that he was the one you married and dedicated yourself to despite his inherent chaos.

He tries to prolong the kisses as much as possible as they varied from moment to moment depending on his emotions and where his minds was in during the kisses. So with Caracalla you were subjected to more lustful, ravenous, carnivorous as though he was trying to devour you or make you into one being through deepened kisses and painful looking love-bites that left you wincing upon grazing them.

His kisses were like fire but you couldn’t help but grow addicted to it and the sting that came from his teeth digging into your bottom lip, he wasn’t good for you and yet you couldn’t help but become more and more convinced through every kiss that you could help him, become his solace and safe space; yet you knew deep down that would never be the case but yet his kisses made you all the more ignorant to his more dangerous capabilities in other aspects as though he was slowly corrupting you with each and every kiss.

#geta x reader #geta x you #Geta imagine #Geta imagines #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x y/n #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta imagines #caracalla x reader #caracalla x you #Caracalla imagine #Caracalla imagines #emperor caracalla x reader #emperor caracalla x you #emperor Caracalla imagine #emperor Caracalla imagines

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hellfire--cult · 7 months ago

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Omega!Emperor Geta x Alpha!Barbarian!Fem!Reader

+18 omegaverse, fem!alpha, dark tropes, very slight dubcon that turns into con, gore, blood, animal death, slapping, tyrant Geta, scenting, knotting, biting, p in v, oral sex (m and f receiving), bondage, breeding kink, mentions of injuries, as well as very threatening dialogues, murder and allusions to murder.

wc: 14.5k

Plot: The Emperor hid his true designation since he presented thanks to a concoction he made out of the blood of Alphas, but what happens when one particular woman enters his colosseum, and he can't look away? He won't give up his throne. No mercy. There shouldn't be. So why isn't the omega inside him listening? Why did it have mercy on her?

A/N: This man is not an Alpha. No matter how people try to paint him as, he is a whimpery man, and I want to see him tear up. thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading and also Hailey for just saying 'm-preg' on a chat and my brain went brr.

Warning before reading: Alphas have penises, being male or female. Omegas have vaginas. This does not mean they identify as the other gender they were born in, or change it at all when they present. It's a secondary gender. Reader has a cock (testicles replacing the ovaries inside), Geta a pussy (with a cocklette instead of clit).

A reblog is better than leaving just one like.

MERCY

Mix. Mix. Mix. Smash together. Crunch it up. Mix some more. Pour. Drink.

It was automatic at this point. The scent of herbs, the stench of iron, the dead body in the corner of his room, the blood jar that contained the remaining blood of a past dead man. The golden bowl on his table with the concoction he created, a transparent red, with an oily texture, and particles of herbs floating all around.

The emperor dipped his index and middle finger in and then rubbed the liquid in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He made sure to smother it well, on both sides to be certain to cover it up very well. He proceeded to take more and lay it all over his wrists, leaving a red tint behind but he can cover it with his tunics. He grabbed the bowl and his nose scrunched as he raised it towards his face, the smell pungent, wooden, filled with ash as well. He opened his mouth and drank the rest of it, letting go down his throat. His stomach revolted as he put the bowl down with a slam, his breathing turning heavy as he groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth.

No matter how many times he did this, it didn’t get any less disgusting. His bottom half cramped and he grunted, his hands slamming on the table as he held himself upright. His head turned to see the dead body that lay there, marching towards it and kicking the slashed stomach, his foot now stained with its blood.

His jaw clenched tightly as anger filled him, his body trying to betray him like it always does but he never lets it. He can’t let it. His eyes went to the face of the man’s body. He was cute, but he sadly knew too much. This stupid fucking Alpha knew too much.

Yet, he can’t help but also be thankful for him being nosy, because if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be able to get the blood he needs. To make that perfume that covers up his darkest secret, one his brother doesn’t remember, one that only his personal confidant doctor knows about, because if it were to get out, he would not be on the throne, and his brother is not in the best state of mind to rule by himself.

Because no Roman would bow to an Omega.

He heard a knock on the door and he closed his eyes as he turned around to grab his robe, putting it on as he headed towards the big golden framed doors, opening one to see his doctor, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and then followed by a sniff, angering the emperor.

“Yes, you cannot be smelled, Emperor Geta.” He knows it's part of his job to make sure it actually works, but he still gets enraged when his doctor has to sniff him because it reminds him of this vulnerability of his. This forsaken misery the gods have imposed on him as if it would have stopped him from being ruler of Rome.

“Get disposed of the body. Feed it to the dogs or to the people saying it’s rhinoceros meat, I don’t care.” His voice was cold as Caius walked in with a silver trolley, closing the door behind him. His simple robes were white, one shoulder exposed with a small golden badge to hold it on the side, signaling he was part of the royal personnel.

“As you wish, dominus noster.” His doctor walked towards the body to inspect it, making a small tsk noise, making Geta’s eyebrow twitch. “You were pretty light on this one. Just slashing his stomach, his neck… Surprised to not see guts on the floor.”

“It’s getting messier to clean up, and that has to be quick, so stop talking and get to it Caius!” His voice was loud, almost scratching an ear drum, and he managed to control his whine thanks to the liquid he had prepared finally sitting in his stomach. The blood of an Alpha on his scent glands and in his system, and it’s enough to cover his omegan stench.

He has been killing the barbarian Alphas for as long as he can remember, buying them off after a game, and people thought that the Emperor loved the atrocious act of making another Alpha submit to him, taking them to his bed, an Alpha on Alpha is what his people called it. Little did they know that it was to take their blood out of their succumbed bodies after he made a mess out of them.

He was very graphic at the beginning thanks to his anger, but as clean up took longer and his brother liked visiting him in his chamber, he had to do things a little quicker now. His dear brother who, thanks to his illness, forgot about what he truly is. His Beta brother forgot his sibling was an Omega and fully believed he was an Alpha thanks to the scent the concoction gave him. The Alpha from the day before had smelled him once he got inside the room and the Emperor quickly disposed of him, but fear struck him.

He put more blood in this time, harder to swallow but maybe it has more effect than the last few mixes he did because that Alpha could smell him, even if just a bit. A recipe brought by Caius the moment Geta had presented, his mother begging for mercy from the doctor and to not give away her prodigy’s child secret. Caius, indebted to Julia for saving him from the streets, accepted the task, and through many experiments and sacrifices, he came up with this ‘medicine’.

“I’ll extract his blood back in my office. You should get ready for the games of today. I heard there is a big surprise, a new gladiator coming to prove themselves.” Caius mentioned as he grabbed the cleaver from the bottom of the trolley where many blankets waited to be drenched in the man’s blood, for when the doctor would start chopping him up in pieces in order to carry him out.

“Not a drop wasted. You hear me?” Caius nodded, the Omega bowing his head to another who pretended to be an Alpha. For being an Omega, Caius was very calm and collected, not letting his pheromones show at all, or make it known by his actions or reactions. Geta envied him. He knows that if an Alpha came along who could spark his interest he would immediately fold for them, submit in ways he wouldn’t be able to control.

He would rather kill himself than show submission to an Alpha.

He was sitting on the stone throne next to his brother, upon the closed imperial box next to the podiums where the elite Romans cheered.

Caius sat behind him wearing new robes, the general Acacius behind Caracalla with his wife next to him. Geta’s attention went to Dondas, his brother’s pet, or best friend, or he doesn’t know if he considers her a sibling at this point. The monkey was making happy noises as Caracalla fed it small treats, a giggle in his lips.

“I wonder what’s the surprise. I’ve been hearing we are going to be quite shocked, brother.” Caracalla says as he looks at Geta with a wicked smile on his face, yet excited. Geta reciprocates the gesture, his own crazed excitement building in his chest as he awaited to see how much blood might be spilled today. One of the things he liked the most was knowing that there were barbarian Omegas fighting below him sometimes, fighting for their lives, trying not to choke on their own blood after being stomped by elephants that were brought into the field.

He was a hidden omega ruler. He felt like he was a god, managing to make people worship him not knowing his true nature. His true intentions. The sick methods he has to go through in order to hide his true self. Yes, he should be considered a god among the Romans at this point.

The announcer makes the soldiers behind him blow their horns as he steps out in the announcing box, the people cheering as he raises his hands with a smile on his face. The emperors clap with grins, getting more comfortable in their thrones as they wait for the announcement.

“Welcome! Today we have a very special surprise waiting for all of you!” The crowd cheers as Geta hears Caracalla clapping excitedly, cheering loudly, making him chuckle at seeing his adrenaline. “I hear you. This is no ordinary surprise. We caught a barbarian back on the island of Corsica. One who fought with every fiber of their being, and you would be surprised, but that barbarian is the one who caused the scar on General Acacius' face!”

Geta’s eyes widened as he laughed, looking back to look at his general, who was closing his eyes in pity. The emperor didn’t understand the gesture, but the excitement didn’t lower at all in its levels. He felt his blood running hot in anticipation, the smell of excited Alphas around the podiums while there were cowering Omegas at the top balconies, the bottom of the social chain.

“He got you good, didn’t he!?” Geta snickered as Acacius looked at him, an unreadable expression lingered, and the emperor turned his head again to keep listening as he played with the rings on his right hand.

“Fighting against lions who have been starved for over two days, here are the gladiators of this day!” The crowd cheers once again as the gates slowly open for the men to come out, having very dull swords as weapons and wooden shields but then the crowd gasps and remains silent as the last one comes out, the announcer wearing a smile on his face as the imperial box sits in shock, except for the wounded General.

“What in the heavens…” Caius exclaims in shock as Geta looks wide eyed at the field below him.

“And here I give you… The first ever barbarian woman to make it to the games!”

Your walk was confident, your face clenched as you came to stand next to the other gladiators. Your sword in hand, the shield on the other, no different than the men that stood on the same patch of dirt as you did. And then, gasps, screams, yelps and whines coming from the crowd. Caracalla pinched his nose tightly as he gasped, Caius falling on his chair as he choked on his spit and then there was Geta.

Who was wide eyed in shock, his body trembling as there in the field stood a Female Alpha.

They were rare, very rare. The only Alpha woman he ever met was his aunt, who was stupidly judged, and exiled from the city. But that was not the only thing that made his breath cut short. It was the fact that he felt his body shake aggressively, his skin starting to profusely sweat in seconds and his breathing became elaborate as he stood up from his throne.

He felt his throat closing up on him the more he got of you, your scent too potent even from this distance. What were you? Were you a prime Alpha? Those were rare, and for you to be one, a woman, it shouldn’t be, it couldn’t. He saw how you were staring at the crowd who was still silent as they looked upon you, the men next to you fidgeting in fear as you all waited for the game to start.

And suddenly, wind picked up softly, Geta felt his robes moving thanks to it, not paying any mind as he kept looking your way. The wind slowly got to you, and your nostrils flared up in an instant. Geta saw how your eyes widened, how you lowered your sword as you slowly turned your head until it finally landed on him. Your eyes clashed with his and for the first time in his life–

‘SUBMIT.’

He fell back on his throne as he clutched his chest, Caius immediately getting up to kneel next to the emperor, seeing how Geta was sweating all over, making the doctor anxious as he whispered to him.

“You are washing away the medicine. What is going on, our lord?” But the emperor could not speak as he breathed heavily, looking down at you as your eyes stood fixated on him. The smell got worse. It was as if the dirt was burning, as if there were wine being spilled all over him. He felt his body growing hotter and then, you took a step towards the imperial box.

And the horns blew off.

“Let the game begin!” And Geta wanted to yell to stop it. Yell to cancel this game but– what would his excuse be? His head turned to Caius who was still looking at him worriedly. Caracalla leaned over with a worried frown and teary eyes.

“Are you okay, brother?” Geta gulped and nodded, trying to dismiss it as something trivial.

“Y-Yes, it caught me off guard.” His brother gave a nod and then smiled back into the field. A loud cheer was let out from him as the gates for the lions started to be pulled up. Geta’s eyes snapped towards the gates as he saw the lions roar loudly, hungry for the people that were on the field, leaping out at quick speed.

His face contorted in worry as your eyes snapped to look towards the animals that were going to pounce on all of you. The first gladiator took a bite to the head as a lion lept towards him, while another one was able to cut a lion’s belly as he ducked when the beast jumped over him. The field became a bloodbath but the crowd’s eyes as well as the emperor’s never left your figure.

You were enraged, your movements aggressive as you stabbed, slashed, ducked, jumped over these beasts and no one was realizing you were doing this while getting closer to the imperial box. Every time you got closer, a lion came to attack you. You were covered in blood as the minutes went by, only three people remaining in the field out of the ten that got in, and two more lions.

One of the men got a bite out of his side and took the opportunity to stab the animal in the head, while the last lion attacked the man that was standing next to you, biting the middle of his stomach as he screamed in agony. You jumped on top of the lion’s back, the beast roaring loudly in distaste as you growled in a low and threatening demeanor, making the lion suddenly whimper. The crowd gasped as they witnessed how the lion slowly lost its struggle as you hissed loudly.

Geta could only stare as he trembled, the sound of your growl having sent electricity shocks all over his body, his hands gripping the armrests’ edge tightly, his knuckles turning white. Your eyes fixated on him again as the lion gave another roar, jerking upwards as it got out of the trance you put him in.

The emperor stood up as he leaned towards the balcony’s edge, worry showing in his features when the lion started thrashing around with you on top of him. You held tightly around his neck, your arms coming together to begin a chokehold on the beast, the alpha pheromones making the entire crowd almost kneel in their place, even the Alphas. He wonders if the Omegas at the top had to be escorted out by now.

Your right hand gripped your left elbow tightly as you used your entire strength to choke the animal that was now struggling more and more, throwing itself on the floor, rolling to try to get you off of it but you didn’t let it, even if your body fell to the sides, your arms never left its neck. You growled loudly as you bared your teeth, clamping onto the lion’s right ear and biting down fiercely. The animal roared in pain as you yanked and tore it all off, making it lose the air in its lungs thanks to the noise it had to make, slowly starting to wobble on its feet.

The crowd stood in silence as the lion finally tumbled to the ground leaving you panting on top of it. You slowly let go of your arms, unwrapping them from around the animal’s neck as you stood up again, grabbing the sword from the ripped-apart Omega the lion was eating before you jumped on top of it. Making sure it’s dead, you stabbed the animal’s head with it, and let the sword stay there as you finally looked up to see the imperial box, spitting the ear away.

Geta was gulping as he felt his thighs start to be covered in slick. He had to run away but his eyes were fixated on you, wanting to jump down from the balcony to rush to you, to kneel in front of you, to let himself be claimed once and for all. Why you? Why a woman? Why?

‘Submit. SUBMIT.’

The voice in his head was loud, knowing it was his omega side betraying him after all these years. The gate opened again to reveal soldiers coming out, ready for the emperor’s orders.

“MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!” He suddenly heard the crowd start cheering and he looked all over, at every single Alpha yelling for him to have mercy on this… woman. His eyes went back to you as you stared back at him, with blown out pupils, nose flaring and he knew you knew. He knew you could smell him despite it all. He knew you knew he was an Omega, and you were trying to make him submit to you.

He raised his trembling fist up, putting his thumb right in the middle. You have to die. You have to die right now. No one can know about him. You will destroy him because he knows you will tell everyone. He knows you will give his secret away. He has to kill you. He has to fucking let those soldiers rip you to shreds.

Caius was staring at the emperor as well as all the people that sat in the same box, waiting for his decision. The doctor knew something was going on. He never saw the emperor react this way, ever, and he could only guess it had to do with the Alpha barbarian standing in front of the imperial box with the blood of animals all over her as she breathed heavily while looking at Geta. Could it be?

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Submit. Submit. Submit.’

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

His hand trembled. His finger was shaking as it remained in the middle. He has to kill you. Your guts have to fill the floor below you, make you learn your place. He doesn’t care if you're an Alpha. He doesn’t care. You have to fucking die.

And his thumb went upwards as the crowd cheered.

He was pacing back and forth in Caius’ office as the doctor looked through a book.

“There has to be an explanation! You’re my doctor so you can save me and protect me if anything were to happen to me!” Geta’s voice was strained as he felt his body burning all over, the medicine the doctor had prepared not helping at all as slick kept sliding down his legs, not being able to stop it.

“I am looking, but I cannot find anything. These are signs of heat.”

“But your suppressant things always help! They always help Caius!” He was borderline pathetically about to cry.

“Gods, I understand, trust me boy, I do! I don’t know why you got affected by that Alpha–”

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m planning on killing her tonight.” Caius' eyes widened, getting up from his chair so he could approach the emperor with shock on his face.

“She is now a known face around your loyal subjects. Even the Omegas cheered for her today. You will not be liked if you decide to kill her–”

“She knows.” That made the doctor stand frozen. How could you? You were so far away from them. You weren’t a prime alpha. He noticed it because he did not get afflicted as much as the emperor did. Prime Alphas make all omegas in their radius fall to their knees, and the only one that was about to crumble was Geta.

“How…?” The emperor shook his head, not knowing how to answer for he did not know. He doesn’t know how you managed it. Even over his homemade scent blocker that no one ever was able to break through, and over the immense distance the two of you had between each other.

“I will kill her tonight. I already bought her and they’re bringing her to my chamber and cuffing her to the bed.” Caius could only reluctantly nod at the emperor’s orders, sighing.

“I will prepare the medical kit–”

“Alone.” Caius’ eyes widened, shaking his head furiously.

“No! You cannot be alone with an Alpha like that! We don’t know why you are weak to their scent and–” Geta pushed the doctor away from him, to then slap him right across the face. The emperor breathed heavily as Caius held his cheek in shock, looking back at the man before him. Anger filled the slapped Omega, giving Geta a slow bow. “As you wish.”

“I will call on you if I need help. So stay behind the doors.” He ordered his doctor and said man only bowed once more, making the emperor straighten up and fix his night robe, chest showing until his happy trail poked from the bottom of it. He took a deep breath in as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He walked out of Caius’ office, with the doctor following right behind him. They quickly moved to avoid guards from smelling the Emperor. They passed by Caracalla’s room, who was put to sleep by raw chamomile herbs Caius gave him so he wouldn’t wake up in any way in the night.

He stopped in his tracks when he was outside his own chambers. He could smell you. He could smell your potent Alpha stench, overpowering everything around you, and he felt his knees tremble underneath him. He shouldn’t go in. He should go in at least with Caius so he could help take care of you, but the thought of someone seeing you like that made him want to growl. His mouth trembled as he felt his heart about to implode in itself, the hammering of it against his chest almost painful.

“I will be out here, dominus.” Geta turned to look at him and gave him one single nod, handing him the key to the chains that held his door together.

“Open it once I tell you it is done, or if I need help. Got it?” The doctor gave the emperor an understanding nod, and proceeded to sit on the bench that was placed next to the entrance of his room. Geta took a deep breath in and stared at the handle of his door, his hand reaching to grab it, shaking as he felt the slick gushing out of him the more he smelled you.

He held the air in and pushed the door open. The scent was now stronger, way stronger than before, and it made him want to stumble back from the power of it. He closed the door behind him and he heard the chains moving, knowing Caius had locked them inside. His head turned to walk into the dimly lit room by the candles, his big bed right in the middle with golden bedposts and sheets draping from the edges of it.

You were lying there in the middle, hands cuffed with iron prison cuffs on his bed posts, arms spread as your back rested against the headboard. Your head was hung low and he heard how you took a sharp breath in before slowly lifting your gaze up at him. His legs almost gave up on him as your eyes settled on him, his neck sweating as he gulped loudly. Your face and body were cleaned, wearing just a hitched-up tunic over you, but–

His eyes widened when he saw the tent you had on your bottom half.

A dark chuckle was heard in the room, his eyes flying to meet yours once again. You looked feral, yet he couldn’t help to think you were the most beautiful alpha he had ever seen in his entire life. He licked his lips as he slowly approached the bed, just small steps, and your eyes traveled to his exposed chest and back to his face.

“Nice to meet you, lord.” Your voice was mockingly sweet, yet with sarcasm filled all over. He wanted to kiss your lips to see if he could taste your voice, but he had to keep a straight face and a stoic mind. He had one task tonight, and he had to complete it. He couldn't fail.

“Name.” You stared at him for a long while, your mind not moving, and his eyes were big in frustration, his teeth slowly baring. “NAME!”

You wanted to laugh because of the false Alpha tone he tried to use, but you humored him, telling him your name.

“Why did you buy me off?” Geta rounded the bed, standing far still as he cocked his head your way.

“Because I have to kill you.” At his words, you let out a loud cackle, your head hitting the headboard behind you. Geta’s eyes were wide and in shock as he saw how your laughter slowly lowered as seconds passed.

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“Because I say so.” His response was short, but a smile was kept on your lips as your head tilted to look at him with an incredulous look in your face.

“Are you sure it is just for that reason… Omega?”

He choked on his own breath as he felt a punch, a cramp happening in his belly. It was painful, yet it caused more slick to gush down his legs, stumbling backwards from just a mere word you said to him. Something no one ever called him before, not even his own mother. Your eyes were piercing through him and he felt his body burning as he grabbed a sword from the weapon rack and marched towards you, pressing the tip of it on your throat.

“You know too much. I have to kill you, you dumb stupid Alpha!” You chuckled, feeling the tip of the pointy metal on your skin.

“How did you do it?” You asked and he huffed, shaking his head. You closed your eyes and he saw how you took a sniff out of the air, a smirk appearing on your lips. “Alpha blood. Ingenious.”

“Good job on finding that out you filth. And I don’t know if you’re dumb or a knothead like all Alphas are, but you do realize why I need to kill you now, don’t you?” He tried to make his voice sound authoritative, hating how it didn’t sound at all like yours even if you were a woman. Your voice was strong, made to obey. Your laughter made every joint of his become pliant, wanting to just get on the bed and on top of you, take what he wanted from you.

“No, you won’t.” Your laughter ceased, only glaring at him and he snarled, pressing the tip even harder against your skin, pricking it and letting blood flow out.

“An emperor does not give out empty threats you damned slug! Why do you believe I won’t, huh!? What makes you believe I will have any mercy for you right now?” And a confident smile spread on your lips and it made his belly cramp once again as his eyebrows twitched at your stance.

“Because you want me, Omega. You want me to taste you, take that purity away from you, knot you and breed you until your womb takes.” Your statements made his palms sweat, his body convulsing as the heat spread all over him, his eyes becoming glossed over as he stared at you, and his hand lost its strength, making the sword fall down and onto the floor.

Out of nowhere, you lifted your body off the headboard, ripping your hands away from the cuffs. His eyes were wide as he saw blood coming down your forearms, the skin around your wrists now teared thanks to the friction of getting your hands out of those constricting iron bracelets. He didn’t notice you had been slowly wiggling your way out of them and, how could he have been so naive?

You kneeled up, grabbing the back of his head, getting hold of his scalp and hair in a tight and painful grip that made him yelp. He tried breaking free, but his strength was not there. He huffed in pain as you threw him on the bed, making him bounce on it and the moment he did, he felt your scent ten times stronger. You have been sweating over his sheets, and– Fuck– Fuck, he could smell your precum. He could smell it.

“No–! Let go!” You growled at the Omega’s defiance when you straddled him over his hips, and for the first time in his life, Geta shut up. His eyes were wide as he looked at how your hands immediately grabbed onto the string of his robes and pulled. He gasped and was about to yell only for a choke to escape him when he felt you punch him right in the stomach, a wave of nausea washing over him.

“Don’t underestimate the strength of an Alpha in a semi-rut, Omega.” His robes opened, falling on his sides and your eyes raked over him as he held his stomach, coughing from the punch you gave him.

“Damn you…” You weren’t listening to him, and his eyes followed yours, and he realized you were looking at his loincloth, how drenched it was thanks to his slick, and he clenched around nothing at all as he smelled how aroused you were, a twitch happening on the tent over the skirt of your tunic.

“How threatening…” Your hand grabbed onto one of his wrists, his body trying to make him go limp for you, to submit, but he cannot let it, so his legs start kicking up, trying to get you off him, which only made you laugh as your grip around his wrist tightened, fingers digging into his flesh. “-- An Omega in heat is as strong as a thread of silk.”

Geta’s body was reddened, the burning of his blood becoming unbearable each second that passed. You were strong, very strong, or like you said, he was weak at this point. He let his instincts decide your fate, and he shouldn’t have trusted them. He shouldn’t have trusted his stupid instincts because they were clearly in your favor. He delivered a swat to your face with his free hand, which you dodged easily, an unamused look on your face as you stared him down. Your eyebrow twitched at how much he was moving around as you tried to put his wrist over his head.

“Stop moving or I'll cut your legs off.” Your voice was low, a tone that was never used on him before, something that made his insides turn in delight, in disgust, in excitement, in shame. His body fell limp beneath you as he tried to make it listen to him again, but his mind was clouded for a few seconds, tears filling his eyes from the sudden need. The sudden need of you.

You put his hands over his head, tying them together with the sling of his robe, and then tied the end of it to one of the cuffs you got yourself out from. Your eyes went towards your own wrists, seeing the open wounds, your raw flesh exposed as it stung slightly. You would have to take care of it later, and the emperor’s eyes followed your sight to see the wounds you provoked on yourself.

Your eyes widened when you heard a small whine. It was very small, and short, but it was enough for your ear to pick up the sound. Geta’s face was that of shock, not knowing where the sound had come from, nor why he did it against his own will.

“Aw… does someone care for their Alpha?” That made Geta’s anger arise despite the arousal and the slick gushing out of his cunt. A cunt he hid for so many years, putting items in his loincloth to make it pretend he had a bulge. A cunt that is now clenching over nothing as it begs to be touched for the first time, and not by just anyone. You. It wants you. He hissed, baring his teeth at you as he yanked on the binds you put on his wrists.

“You are not my Alpha! I have no Alpha! Never will!” That made your face twitch with distaste, your nose scrunching up slightly but then you let out a small chuckle, catching his attention.

“Oh, but I am. And you are my Omega, and if you think that I’m going to let you walk out of this room a virgin and unbred, you are greatly mistaken, my lord.”

‘Submit.’

“No– No–! CAIUS! CAIUS!!!” He started screaming as the voice in his mind became loud, and consistent, making his body grow weaker and the slick between his legs thicker. He yelled for his doctor, but he heard no chains being opened. He heard nothing, making his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. You looked over your shoulder and back down at him with a twisted smile.

“It seems someone ditched you, my emperor.”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

“No, no, no, no– I worked too hard– No!” He kept screaming his doctor’s name, and you just watched him, waiting for his vocal cords to fail on him, for him to grow tired. His arms were still fighting, his legs trying to kick you off still, and you pressed yourself harder onto his hips, right on his pained belly. His voice cut off, making him grunt as he threw his head back at the feeling of pressure on his cramps.

“You can’t fight it. You were mine the moment I stepped into that field, as well as I became yours.” Those words made him look at you, his eyes connecting with yours and a shock of electricity rushed through both of your bodies, a sweat of pleasure washing over as a moan came out of your lips and his. His legs stopped moving, falling limp on the bed as he breathed heavily, his hivemind slowly taking over, his rationality being thrown out a balcony in the lapse of minutes. Everything he worked for, all of his resolve, was rendered to nothing in these few moments he spent with you.

“I– I should kill you…” You shook your head at him, a grin on your lips.

“Let me show you why you shouldn’t.” Geta felt his skin as if acid had been thrown on it. It was burning him, painfully, but with pleasure. He had never experienced a proper heat because of how much he rejected his designation, and he is still wondering how did you of all people manage to trigger it.

He gasped when you leaned forward, pressing your lips on his chest, your tongue lolling out to lick some of his sweat away, a pleased moan residing in your throat. He whimpered, trying to hold the stupid and pathetic moan in, just by you licking him. You licked your lips before placing another kiss to his collarbone, then moving up to his neck, your nose grazing his mating gland for just a second, but it was enough for the emperor to flinch in fear, your head snapping to look at him.

“No– No, don’t–”

“No need to fear me… I won’t. But you will want it by the end of this.” He wanted to scoff and deny your words, but as soon as your mouth pressed against his pulse point, he was rendered speechless, choking on his spit as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He could feel your lips, your tongue licking all over, your teeth nibbling on him, tasting every little piece of skin that you could. He suddenly felt you sucking on his flesh, making his eyes snap open, his body wiggling underneath you.

“No marks! Don’t you dare in the hells mark me!” At his defiance, you growled, your teeth clamping on the side of his throat, and he cried out of pain, fear, your teeth way too close to his mating gland. You were not going to listen to him, adamant to keep up the intention of making him yours. You pulled away from him, looking down at his face, your lips stained red because of the blood you drew from the bite.

“Don’t you dare order me.”

“I am the Emperor… I can command anyone to kill you in just a second! You should fear me, not defy me, much less–” His voice was cut short when your hand immediately wrapped around his throat, his arms yanking against the bindings you made, trying to set free as he choked on your hold, his legs kicking up behind you, but your strength– it was too great.

“Don’t threaten me, Omega. You are talking way too much for someone who is pinned on the bed with no way of protecting himself at all.” He whined underneath your hold, and then he winced when he felt a cramp punch him right in his bottom half. They were getting worse each second that passed and his mind was losing oxygen because of your hold. You immediately let go of him, and he choked for air as you stared down at him.

“You’re… You’re crazy.” He spat out with venom. He hated you. He hated you. He wanted to kill you. He wanted to rip your chest open to take your heart out. He wanted to dip his hand in the middle of your stomach to take your intestines out… He hated you. He hated that he wanted you. He hated the fact you were making his slick come out in quantities he never experienced before. He hated that he wanted you to take his purity away.

He hated that he wanted to submit his Omega to your Alpha.

“You’re one to talk, now shut the hell up.” Your mouth went back down to kiss his chest, making him groan as you kissed your way towards his left nipple. He gasped as your mouth enveloped it, your tongue flicking the nub over and over again until it perked up. He whimpered as his body trembled at each flick, not expecting it to feel this good. He had touched himself, but he was untouched by others. The concubines were a fake, a show he put on to make him more believable, to make his facade the more believable.

He wanted to protest but his mouth did not move because his body was succumbing to what you were making him feel for the very first time. Your mouth went to his right nipple to give him the same attention you gave the left one and his back arched slightly off the bed, making you chuckle underneath your breath. You were loving his reactions, and he knew you were because your excitement could be detected through your arousal. He knew his bed sheets would have to be burnt in the morning… if he survived until then.

Your lips started trailing down as your body moved, crawling backwards as you kissed his navel, making him jerk from the sensation, goosebumps being displayed all over his arms and chest. You licked around his belly button, and he whined at the strange feeling, not knowing he was sensitive in that area at all, but then his eyes widened when he felt your body wiggling itself in between his legs, trying to spread them apart but he did his best to keep them closed.

A warning growl came from you and his body acted against his will as his legs spread open for you to finally slot yourself in the middle, your fingers hooking on the edge of his cloth and he held his breath in. The only one who had ever touched him there for inspection had been Caius to check on his health and overall look of it. His body trembled in anticipation, nerves, fear, excitement, lust - he no longer knew, yet, you didn’t pull his cloth down, your lips pressing against his left inner thigh.

Were you trying to calm him down?

He felt the air becoming lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his chest, a weight he didn’t know was there at all. He could breathe more easily now, and he realized you had released soothing pheromones in the air for him. He didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You looked like you were going to take what you wanted no matter what he said, yet you also acted like he was the most delicate flower there was.

“Calm.” It was authoritative, but not like the other times. He felt like there was no threat behind the voice, but rather a warm blanket of a caring emotion. He wanted to laugh at that statement. You had punched him in the stomach for him to stop struggling, there is nothing caring about this. Yet–

He gasped when you licked the slick that was stuck on his inner thighs, and a pleasured growl vibrated throughout the whole room. You were tasting him. Someone was tasting him for the very first time and he didn’t think this day would ever come. He assumed he would have died a virgin for the sole purpose to rule until the end of his days. Rule. He has to rule. His mind snapped back into reality for a second, finding his voice once again.

“Y– You can’t–” He didn’t want to stop, his body didn’t want you to stop, but what about the rest? Everything he struggled with, everything he had to do to be where he is right now, all being thrown down into a pit of snakes because of you, because of your goddamn existence.

“I can, I will and you won’t be able to stop screaming for me, Omega.” He snarled at the name, not wanting to be called that, he wasn’t used to it, no matter how right his body told him it was, his mind could not fathom it. Your fingers hooked on the edges of his cloth once more and you started taking them off, making him gulp loudly as he felt the coldness of the room hit him right on his wet cunt, sending shivers all over his body.

You had your eyes closed, nose flaring aggressively as you took off this piece of fabric. He saw you throwing the loincloth away, and you finally opened your eyes, staring at the untouched cavity no one had the pleasure to be in or taste before. A place that was never to be seen by others, touched, or defiled. Your breathing grew elaborate as you smelled him. You smelled the slick dripping down towards the crack of his ass and down to his robe that you never got to take off.

His eyes looked down towards your tunics, the tent still up, and his head started to wander. What size could it be? Do female Alphas have the same size? Smaller? Thinner? His curiosity is there, he wants to know, but he knows he shouldn’t because the moment he sees your member he is probably going to submit completely and he is not ready for that. Not yet.

“You are pretty. The gods have really blessed you with it.” Your voice was anything but sarcastic or with venom. It was honest, and you almost sounded drunk. He wiggled slightly underneath you, feeling the embarrassment of being watched so intensely for the first time. Watched with another intent than just giving him a medical check-up.

“S-Stop. I didn’t ask for it. If it were for me I would have never chosen it!” His voice was loud, high pitched, and his hands yanked once more, feeling his arms growing tired from being in the air for a while now. You were still looking down at his center, completely out of it, high off of his scent. You slowly bent down, laying on your stomach as you positioned your face right in front of his entrance. He was wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do in this situation.

He felt a cold air sharply brushing over his small cocklette. He looked down to see you blowing over him, sending shivers all over his body, and goosebumps on his legs and arms. You didn’t react to him, your mouth still agape as you stared at his core. You closed your eyes as you took a sharp intake of his smell, and then exhaled, opening your eyes again to lock them with his own. His breath hitched in his throat, wanting to fight back, wanting to push you off, but his body was betraying him. After all these years, his body is retaliating back.

He threw his head back when he felt your tongue sharply lick from the bottom of his slit, to the top, and then flick his cocklette in one movement. A gasp got stuck in his throat at the new sensation. What was that? He could have been feeling that all this while, and he was willing to never know about this for the sole purpose of keeping his throne?

Yes. Yes, he was.

“Stop–” He needed you to stop because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from calling out to you. To call out for you.

“No. This is mine.” You said in a growl, surprising him with how possessive you sounded. How brutal that statement was, yet it wasn’t unpleasant to him even if he wanted to feel it was. Before he could answer, his back arched upwards, his mouth falling open as you started circling his cocklette with the tip of your tongue, to then take it into your mouth.

“Damn you–” He clenched his teeth together as he held in his sounds of pleasure, trying to focus on not enjoying it, focus on his throne, focus on rome. But it was hard to do when you were slurping him as if he were the ambrosia Demeter promised Demophon of Athens. And he was. To you he was even more than that, more delightful, as if you were tasting all constellations. You let go of his cocklette with a pop, drool already pooling at the corner of your mouth.

“You taste delightful… delicious… remarkable.” Your tongue lolled out to lick a strip all over his slicked up folds. His body trembled beneath you, your hands on his inner thighs to keep them separated, and for him to not have a surge of power and clamp them together over your head.

“Ngh–” He was holding back his moans, the more you licked, the more he sweat and the more scent he was exuding. He didn’t want to give in to the pleasure. He didn’t want to give in to you. He didn’t want to yet his body was reacting, and betraying him over and over again and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stop this.

You kept licking, tasting, ravishing him with your tongue in ways he never thought he would experience. This was never supposed to happen in his entire life and yet, there you were, between his legs, eating his biggest secret. And he was loving it. His body was absolutely ecstatic of feeling like this for the first time in its life and his mind was slipping away each lick of yours, each sucking on his cocklette.

He gasped as his back arched off the bed when your tongue entered him. He didn’t know what to think of it, feeling you inside, feeling something inside for the first time in his life aside from his own fingers. He whimpered as he felt you swirling around inside of him, your moans vibrating against his core, and he could hear your slurping as he felt more slick coming out of him.

You were addicted, and he could smell how much you were enjoying him. He wanted to hate it, hate the fact you were enjoying yourself so much, but no… he was so happy. He wanted to chirp for the first time in his life, knowing you… an Alpha, was aroused by pleasuring him. That you were finding him delicious. That you wanted to make him climb into those mountains of pleasure no one ever took him before, and much less reach the very peak of them.

You pulled away with a gasp for air, and he lifted his head to look down at you, seeing how you licked all over your lips, still looking at his center with blacked out eyes. His legs trembled as his belly twirled around with need for more, a rope that was slowly becoming tighter with the intent of snapping apart.

“The gods were so good to you… making you this delicious, and only for me to taste.” Your voice was sultry and as if you were not entirely there. It was low, with the hint of a purr in the background of it and Geta’s skin grew goosebumps because again, he was delighted to hear an Alpha purr for him. Yet, a bit of his rational mind, or what he thought was rational, remained.

“I never asked for it–” His eyes widened when he felt your middle finger running along his slit, wetting it with his slick. He tensed up, clenching on nothing as nerves and fear overtook him for a second, yanking on his arms once again. He felt you kiss his right inner thigh and then a purring voice.

“I am going to take care of you… relax.” His omega does as told instantly, relaxing for you as he slumped back on the bed, not knowing how tense his entire body got. You hummed in approval, pushing your finger in, slowly, letting him engulf you at his pace. His mouth fell agape, his head falling back on the pillow underneath him. He felt you invaded him, a stranger, and he should hate it. He should hate it just like he always thought he would have and yet, he wants to moan out your name.

He wants to call out for you.

His belly cramped in pleasure, and he heard a chuckle coming from you, but he didn’t have the strength in him to retort at you, or to snap like he always does. You let him adjust around your finger for a second before pulling out and pushing back in again. The feeling was foreign coming from another person, and much more when it was an Alpha. It was as if the pleasure was heightened. As if he had an aphrodisiac injected into him, and he could only blame his heat for this.

You started thrusting your middle finger in and out of him, and his body flushed all over, heat engulfing him from head to toe, burning him as if he were inside an iron bull. His eyes closed as he fought to keep his mouth closed, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his noises in. You felt him slick your finger, making it so easy to slip in and out of him, so you decided to add your ring finger, slowly, pushing it next to your other one and the Emperor gasped, a strangled small moan escaping him for the first time in the night.

“What a good Omega. If it feels good, you have to let yourself enjoy it, pretty one.” He whined at your words, but still he wanted to listen to you as you started pumping your fingers in and out of him. Small little pants escaped him as his body moved slightly, up and down on the bed thanks to your thrusts. The rope started getting tighter and he wanted to curse the hells for making his body this way. It was all because of your designations, it’s just because of that reason only.

His walls started fluttering around you, and his legs trembled, letting you feel the reaction with your free hand which was still gripping his inner thigh, nails digging into the flesh. Your hips were rubbing against the mattress below you, trying to get friction and your growls of need started vibrating on every single wall of the room. Your cock had fully come out, and you needed to knot the Omega below you before your semi-rut makes you go insane.

You curled your fingers upwards at the same time you engulfed his cocklette into your mouth, sucking eagerly and feeling some of his slick coming out of the tip of it. He let out a cry of pleasure as he felt something weird. It was different and it felt too good. You were rubbing something deep within him that he had never felt in his entire life. Was this his heat? It was making his belly cramp as his orgasm got closer and closer, ready to unravel him in front of you.

You kept slurping on him as your fingers increased their pace in short and quick movement, abusing that soft spot inside of him that was making him tremble underneath you, trying to move around, not knowing what to do with his body. He knew his scent was a mix of emotions, but he didn’t know what to think of this. It was a pleasure he never felt in his life, and his moans were now unrestrained, making you purr against him.

“W– What is– Oh, I’m–” You hummed against him, urging him to finally let go on you, to let himself get washed away in a tsunami of pleasure. A pleasure you are giving him.

The constellations flashed over his eyes as his back arched off the bed, his wrists yanking against the restraints as his thighs wanted to clamp on anything because he felt he was on fire down there, clamping around your fingers like a vice. His belly burnt and tightened as his climax crushed through him and his mouth opened, ready to call out for you for who you were. But his own gush of slick cut him off, surprising him as his cries were heard around the room.

You took everything he gave you from his cocklette, gulping it all down as you slowed your fingers, helping him ride his orgasm out. He was having some spasms as you felt him unclench around you, slowly pulling your mouth and fingers away from him. He let his body fall slump on the bed, and you saw how his chest went up and down with heavy breaths. You looked down at his center, your tongue licking all the slick that was coming out from his orgasm.

“So delicious, damn you…” You mumbled into him as he twitched, little whimpers of overstimulation escaping him. He felt his sight slowly coming back to him, and he didn’t understand why but… he wasn’t satisfied. His belly started hurting again and he realized that he wasn’t going to ever be until he was knotted. He needed a knot… your knot.

Your ministrations were cut off when you heard a small sob coming from above you. You immediately pulled away from him, crawling up his body, both hands now resting on each side of his head as you looked down at him. He was whining, tears running down his eyes, his charcoal liner leaving dark streaks from the corner and towards his ears. Your hand reached over, slowly touching his cheek only for him to hiss and shove his head away from you.

“You… You are just going to take it…” You tilted your head at him, confused. Your arousal was interrupted with worry and he didn’t understand why you were acting this way when all you wanted was to break him.

“Take it…? Your vir–”

“My throne. You– You are going to take my throne…” His tears started rolling down once again as he shook his head. “You are going to reveal who I am, and it will be over for me, and–”

He gasped when he felt your lips on his forehead, a surge of calmness washing over him. He could smell your scent, a warm and kind fire. The scent of lemongrass all around him, something he didn’t smell on you before. You pulled away as you shook your head at him, his mind reeling with confusion.

“I don’t want your throne.”

“What? Don’t you dare jester me–”

“I just want you, Omega. We are destined.” At those words, Geta’s eyebrows pinched right in the middle, not understanding what you were saying at all.

“What are you saying?” You chuckled, a genuine smile on your lips, despite all that hard exterior you had shown him all night and at the games, making his body tremble slightly underneath you.

“We are scent mates. You were the only scent in my life to trigger a small rut and it seems I am the only one who could trigger a heat on you, despite any method you took to avoid them and suppress them.”

The Emperor was stunned at your words. Was there something like that in the world? He never heard of it before, and Caius didn’t either because he didn’t find anything on that subject. Scent mates… then, it means he cannot leave you. He cannot kill you. He cannot make you leave because he doesn’t want to. He can’t.

“Y– You… how… I don’t– I don’t want to give up my throne–”

“And you won’t. Make me your second general in command. I am a very respected Alpha back in my city, and I have an army of three thousand barbarians.” He blinked a few times up at you, his mind blank as it slowly started filling with warmth and with some clarity. His hivemind started to take control of him the more he heard you talk.

“You want… to give me your army?” You nodded at that, your hand reaching out to rub his cheek once again and this time he didn’t pull away, letting you rub against his skin, his eyes closing as his chest warmed up to the feeling.

“Protecting you is my number one priority. If you want to rule as an Alpha or an Omega, it’s your choice, but I will stand behind you, not in front of you, my Omega. I would never forsake you.”

And his body felt as if it were laying on clouds. It felt as if he was enveloped in warm comforters crafted by the olympus with gold linen all over the seams. Your eyes showed honesty, and he could smell that you were in fact being truthful to him. Why didn’t you start with that? Why didn’t you begin with those words so he could fully enjoy you? To let him fully succumb to this heat and the need to mate with you?

“Protect me… Alpha.” He saw your body tremble, a strangled moan choking you up as he saw your eyes turn deep black once again. “Untie me.”

You looked down at him for a few seconds, your breaths starting to become heavier as your mind started slipping away into a knothead rut. You managed to let a shaky breath out of your lips as your hands reached over to untie him, struggling a little thanks to the trembling of your fingers. His gaze was stuck on your face, his chest going up and down as he breathed heavily, feeling the string of his robe coming undone, his wrists burning from the friction, but he no longer cared.

His arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders, his face flushing with rosy cheeks as you looked down on him. He didn’t know what to do, but his instincts were telling him to try and lunge forward, do something, and gladly, you realized and took that initiative for him. Your lips clashed on his and he immediately whimpered in ecstasy, feeling a current of electricity running through his bones as your arms wrapped around him.

His hands started going down towards your neck, feeling how hot your skin was, basking on being able to finally touch you. Your lips moved desperately on eachother, sloppy, messy, filled with drool and tongue. It makes your length twitch underneath your tunics, making you groan. Your hips connected with his middle, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths as you started slowly swaying back and forth on him.

He could feel you. It was big from what he could guess, and his core slicked all over at the thought of getting knotted by you. Never in his life he thought he would hear those words in his head. His cocklette was being rubbed in the most delicious of ways, making him whimper and groan in your mouth. Your moans were sweet, deep, and in need, and he cannot believe his destined Alpha would be a woman. He never thought of the possibility of there ever being a destined person, or a scent mate in his life. He was never taught that or no one ever gave him a slight mention of it.

But it seems that’s because of royalty. You came from a city filled with legends, old tales, no one to rule over you. A community being a community. He doesn’t understand it.

You pulled away from him, kneeling up and undoing the string in the middle of your tunics. He was staring at you, rising up on his elbows to take a better look at you as you pulled the fabric up and away from you, revealing you had no underwear on yourself. That’s why he could feel you so harshly. His eyes widened when he saw you, all ready, throbbing, hard, large, and with precum coming out of your tip.

And his mouth salivated.

He whimpered as his eyes turned glossy, fully sitting up, his body acting on pure impulse and desire. He leaned forward, tongue lolling out, to tentatively lick the tip of your lenght. You choked on a growl, both hands coming to cover your mouth. He could sense the spike of arousal in you, and he could taste it on his tongue as more precum oozed out of you. He smirked, looking up at you while his hand engulfed your base.

“So pretty for me, Alpha.” And you were. You were beautiful. Your breasts, your perky nipples waiting for his mouth, for his touch. Your pupils completely engulfing the irises of your eyes. You were perfect. A perfect Alpha and just for him. He saw you shiver and he heard you whimper for the first time in the night, the roles reversing for a split second.

“Please…” You moaned out, and he looked back down at your throbbing shaft that bobbed for attention on his face. He didn’t know how to do this. He wasn’t skilled, he had no experience, but god, does he want to satisfy his Alpha with everything he has in him. He moved forward again as you stayed kneeled up, his hands coming to grip your backside as he kissed the tip of your length.

You couldn’t help the moan with his name on your lips as he kept giving kisses and tentative licks to it. His hands went upwards to hold onto your breasts, a moan escaping him as he felt your nipples on his palms. He fondled them, basking on them, worshipping the first pair of breasts he ever touched without any fabric or coverage on them. He often did it to his ‘concubines’ to keep appearances, but never touched them raw like he is now and he is loving it. His kisses traveled along the length, reaching your base and you shivered as you let your hands drop to your sides again as your head fell backwards.

You smelled so good to him, making more of his juices gush out of him, staining the robe beneath him and probably seeping through it and down to his sheets. Now he doesn’t want to burn them at all. He wants to keep them unwashed for days, or weeks, just so he can smell you every minute and hour of the day. He got your nipples in between his index fingers and thumbs, pinching and rolling them as he felt you jerk slightly on his grasp.

He finally opened his mouth to take the tip of your shaft into his mouth, the head of it feeling excellent on his tongue as he swirled it around. You whined as your hand went to the back of his head, running your fingers through his ginger hair as you basked on how good he looked doing this to you. Suddenly, he whined as a cramp kicked in his belly, making him pull away from you, his hands coming to rest on it.

Your arousal got interrupted as worry for your Omega took over, your free hand coming to hold his cheek so he could look up at you. He had a tear running down his face as his face reddened in need.

“I– I don’t know– Something is missing–”

“Your nest, my sun. Your nest is missing.” You instantly pulled away from him, a desperate whine escaping him as you stepped off from the bed to grab your tunic again, crawling towards him again, handing the garment to him. “Smell this.”

He did as instructed, his hands snatching your tunic away, his nose dipping into the filthy cloth only for your scent to fill his lungs. He moaned at it, his head whipping behind him to look at his pillows. He shrugged his robe off, moving in order to get it off from under him as well, and he placed it on one side of his pillow, while your tunic was put on the other side. His belly uncramped slightly, but it was hungry for more.

He kneeled up, turning around to see you again and he had to look down slightly to be able to meet your gaze. He was panting as his whimpers were coming out of his mouth, not being able to control them. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him, your shaft in between the both of you, smearing your own seed on his body.

“Please… I–” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. He moaned into it, his palms flat all over your back, touching everywhere he could as you two kissed fervently.

‘Submit.’

He pulled away, laying back down on the bed, spreading his legs to reveal his wet center to you and his hand was raised for you to take it. You took it and he pulled you into him, falling in between his legs, your chest hitting his. Your lips found his jaw, kissing it gently and you could hear him whimper as his hips canted upwards onto your length, making you hiss.

“I will take care of you. I’ll make the pain go away, Omega.” And Geta purred, for the first time in his life. He had never purred, not even for his own mother or brother. He had denied his designation since the first minute, and he denied having any omega behaviour, even as small as a whine.

It felt good.

Your eyes widened at the sound, your shaft now slickened up thanks to rubbing it up and down his folds and against his cocklette. Your canines elongated as a deep growl in delight, assimilating a purr, vibrated in your throat. Your hips went backwards and your tip caught onto his entrance, making his breath hitch. His hands were on your waist, while yours were caging his head against the bed.

“I’m ready, my Alpha.” You shivered at the sound of that. My. Mine. Yes, it sounded right. You started pushing forward, slowly, torturous for you, but new to him. His eyes widened as he threw his head back onto the pillows, tilting his head to where your tunic was for your scent to fill his nostrils. He couldn’t find his voice as you kept splitting him open, feeling this new intrusion inside of him, a much bigger one.

“Relax, my sun. You need to relax for me…” He tried to let go of the air he was holding in, slowly, trying to get his breathing under control. Your lips connected to his neck, giving it soft pecks as he felt your hot breath on his skin. That made him relax, untense, his body falling deeper into his soft bed. The moment he unclenched on you, you kept going, breaching him open as his digits dug into your waist.

He felt himself shaking as he felt the extreme pleasure running all over his limbs, as well as the pain of the loss of his virginity. But you were being so careful with him, and he felt protected by you. A gift sent by the gods themselves. He didn’t know you were thinking the exact same thing, and now you didn’t feel any sadness towards your city. The invasion caused you to meet him, it caused you to finally reach him and be where you are now.

He choked on his spit when there was some strain as you were about to bottom out in him. It was painful, making him hiss at the pain, but his belly was screaming for you to break it. It needed you to break it. It was just one more little push, one more little thrust and his purity will be long gone. Your eyes locked with his, and he saw how fast your breathing was, how flushed you looked, how much you were holding yourself back with him, even in a semi-rut. He gave you one nod and–

“Damn–!” He cried out as you gave one strong thrust, finally getting through the restraint. You let out a breath, choking on it as you took another in, shaking as you did while looking down at where you two were connected, pelvis to pelvis. His eyes were closed as he tried to adjust to you, thinking it was going to be impossible but it was becoming so easy as he kept letting his strangled breaths out.

You couldn’t begin to explain what you were feeling. It was as if you solved the logical explanation of a long lost legend. As if you’ve won a war that would give you everything you’ve ever wanted. And for the Emperor, he felt like conquering something more than Rome, than all the cities around him. You were more than anything he ever put his power onto.

Your eyes met his, his right hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a kiss that made you twitch inside of him, and he felt the first sweat of pleasure all over his body, making him moan into your mouth. He pulled away from you, keeping his nose against yours as he looked into your eyes.

“Move.” He commanded, the roles now reversed, and you didn’t mind it at all. Your hips went backwards, and he groaned as he looked down where you were connecting with him as you slowly pushed back in. His face contorted into a pleasured one in an instant as he felt you against his walls, making him look into your eyes again. Your jaw was clenched, setting a slow pace on him to accustom him to the feeling.

He started letting out soft breaths as the pleasure grew more intense the more you thrusted into him. It felt like he was slowly losing himself, his mind telling him things he never thought of before. Mating. Breeding. Him pregnant with your pups. His round belly as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered if your thoughts were going in the same direction as his.

“You feel so good, my Omega.” He flustered at that, his mouth opening to let out a moan as you quickened the pace, and his fingers dug into the back of your neck and your side. He started feeling his belly turn in delight, more slick than ever coming out of him and around you, smearing all of his sheets and your pelvis and thighs.

“More– More–” He couldn’t recognize his desperate voice, feeling a need like never before. You kneeled up with a groan, getting hold of his knees as his hands fell to his sides. He was confused as he panted only for his eyes to widen when you started moving rougher, your hips now snapping against his, and he heard the skin slapping, his core squelching thanks to how much slick he produced.

You were moaning, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, and his cries for you grew louder, calling out your name, a new prayer in his lips. He felt himself burning, his body just engulfed in flames as if Hell had sucked him in for punishment. He felt you going in and out of him, your hips angling at one point and–

He gasped as a whimper followed when he felt that sweet spot being hit by your tip once more. He didn’t care what it was anymore, just that it felt divine. His hands gripped the sheets below him as you kept that rough pace, sweat all over your body, nails digging into his knees as you kept his legs spread for you. He was crying out for you, looking at you through hooded lids, tears of pleasure running down the sides of his face as drool pooled on the corner of his mouth.

“So pretty, Omega. My Omega. My beautiful, powerful Omega.” Oh, he loved the sound of that, his core fluttering around your length, making your hips stutter slightly before continuing your pace with a growl. His belly needed more, but he didn’t know how to get it, or what that more was. He just needed it, making him whimper in the middle of his moans.

“Alpha– I don’t– I need more–!” You nodded, your right hand leaving his knee, moving in between the two of you to get hold of his cocklette. His back arched as he cried out when you started rubbing him, your hand squeezing lightly to cause friction as you kept slamming your hips against his. He felt his belly turning and turning, the threat of an orgasm approaching him as his nails dug into his mattress.

You moaned out his name, over and over again, feeling him clench and unclench around you. There was fire between the both of you, the air around you musky, filled with the scent of sin, of beautiful sin. He didn’t want this smell to leave his room now. Not ever. His body moved back and forth as your skin slapped over and over, feeling you deep within him, and he swore you were hitting his belly.

But you kept abusing that soft place in him, making his entire body tremble in anticipation as he felt himself being lifted into clouds the more you railed into him. His moans started coming out choked, his breaths were stuttering as he tried taking deep ones in. His body was red in color as you looked down on him, your hand moving faster on his cocklette, your mouth watering at the sight before you.

“Let go, my lord. Let go, Omega.” And that he did. His eyes clenched shut as his walls tightened all around you, making you stop your hips, a choke coming out of your lips. He couldn’t find his voice as he shook underneath you, his back arched, his neck all red as he couldn’t help throwing his head back. It was a strong orgasm, and it was so good doing it around your shaft. It felt too good. He finally cried out your name as his belly kept fluttering, the orgasm ongoing.

You were breathing heavily as his back touched the bed again, and you stopped the movement of your hips, trying to catch your breath as he finally unclenched around you. He was panting as he kept his eyes closed, trying to regain some consciousness as his mind kept reeling with you, some rationality seeping through that was making him think of the future.

He saw you choking on your breaths as your hands landed on his chest to hold yourself up, the hand that stroked your cocklette smeared with the small spurt of slick that came out of it. You hissed when you felt the burning starting to happen at the base of your length. You pulled your hips back and moved back in, your name coming out of his mouth as his hands went up to cradle your face.

He wanted it. He needed it. So he started begging.

“Please– Please–” He pleaded for you and you shivered on top of him as you moved your hips once again, setting a normal pace, because if you went rough you would not be able to control your hivemind, already feeling your canines wanting to elongate inside your mouth.

“I– I won’t knot you, my lord.”

His eyes widened, a loud whine escaping his throat, eyebrows meeting in the middle with pure sadness. What did you mean? Why not? Why?

“What–? What– no! I order you–!” His voice was strained as your hips stilled, just half of your length in, and he knew your knot was slowly inflating because he could feel a different thickness trying to enter him. He whined when he felt it and you were not pushing it in, not wanting to lock inside of him.

“I– If I knot you, I will mate you. I will bite you– I– I don’t want to make my Omega unhappy, and if ruling makes you happy– Biting you means you will live as an Omega.”

He now understood what you meant. You really wanted him to keep ruling, and for that he would have to give up the idea of ever mating you, knowing that at one point he would be pregnant with your pups. Everyone will know he is an Omega… the entirety of Rome will rise against him. Probably even kill him for the deception to the whole community… yet–

“Protect me. You told me you would protect me… I want to keep ruling with your bite on my neck.” His face was twisted as he grinned up at you, wickedness displayed in his features, ideas brewing in his head that the more he thought of, the more he enjoyed. You saw the shift in Geta’s gaze. He had come up with a plan.

“Are you sure?” Your gaze turned dark, thoughts of protecting your omega against everything and everyone, blood on your hands as you ripped open skulls, pushed eyes into their sockets… Yes, you enjoyed the mere idea of killing for the emperor. For your Omega.

“Mercy– I beg you– I want it–” He whined now, tears spilling from his eyes as his hips tried to move towards you, wanting you back inside of him. “Have mercy on me, Alpha.”

And suddenly, he saw that smirk of yours that he saw the first time. It was evil, filled with dark emotions that he himself has inside. You kneeled up again as you raised your hand towards him, your thumb in the middle. He watched expectantly, the heat in his body rising to extraordinary levels as the anticipation was killing him from inside out.

“If tyranny is what my Omega wants… Tyranny is what you are going to get.”

And you turned your thumb upwards.

The crowd was cheering loudly as the gladiators fought on the field below.

Caracalla was laughing, clapping as he looked back at General Acacius, but the man’s eyes were fixated on the person on his left, the one that was behind the other throne.

You were standing tall as one of your hands rested at the top of the throne while the other was being gripped by your Omega’s hand, over his right shoulder. Your attire had changed into a general’s. You were wearing golden gear, with a red cape hanging from your shoulders. Women never wore these attires, much less, women didn’t go to war, even those who were Alphas. You were the exception at the Emperor’s orders.

When you two mated two months ago, you had sworn you would protect Geta, at any cost. That he will rule, even if the people and the council found out he was an omega. But before that, you two had to pay some people a visit. The council.

The moment Geta walked in with you right behind him, all the men in the room winced in disgust, getting up from their seats as the emperor sat next to his brother who was shocked, his mouth agape as he smelled his sibling. You walked to stand next to him, your eyes filled with the intent of murder, with the thirst of blood, which made the men in the room sit back down, slowly, and against their will.

“I have deceived you all. As you can smell, I am not an Alpha. I never have been, but I plan to keep ruling as an omega… I have been for years now, you all didn’t notice. It doesn’t change anything.” At that, all the men in the room started yelling, Alphas and Betas pointing fingers at the emperor, and you wanted to growl loudly, warn them to not overstep, but Geta held your hand, noticing how angry you had gotten. The men fell silent as they saw the gesture, now looking at you.

“You have been mated.” One of them said, and Geta nodded with confidence. His brother smiled and clapped in excitement, making him look at Caracalla with surprise in his features.

“A mate! A mate! Everyone rejoice!” Geta smiled with teeth, feeling his belly turn with excitement, squeezing your hand in the process. Your chest puffed up with pride, a nod towards Caracalla in appreciation, even if you knew his dementia had gotten the best of him, he never stopped feeling happy for his brother.

“UNACCEPTABLE!” Your head and Geta’s turned to look at the man at the back, an Alpha, getting up from his seat as he walked to the middle of the room, facing the emperors and yourself. “Rome has never been ruled by an Omega and never will! Omegas are at the bottom of the class chart, and you are no exception! Demoted! BEHEADED! You must be demoted–”

Before he could finish his sentence, his head was falling to the floor. Everyone sat in silence as they shivered, some peed themselves in fear, and even Alphas were about to whimper as they looked at the sword that was dripping blood and then at the bearer of it. Your eyes were looking at how the headless body now fell to the floor, your eyes moving upwards to the council in front of you.

“The moment you touch one single hair of his… is the moment I kill your kin in front of your eyes, and I shove their guts down your throats.” The men in the room stayed silent, even the women who served as concubines and servers who stood in a corner of the room. Your eyes scanned everyone as you raised the bloodied sword to them.

“This–” A man tried to respond, but your eyes dug deep into his skull before he could finish.

“Emperor Geta will rule Rome. My army is already on its way here, an army of 3,000 men and women. Barbarians that the only way they know to fight is to rip the intestines raw from your stomachs and strangle you with them.” You lowered your sword as you turned to look at everyone in the room. “The moment you do something to him, is the moment I burn Rome down. No man, woman, child, baby, or dog will be spared. There will be nothing left to rule.”

The room stayed silent for just a few seconds before one of the men raised his hand up in acceptance and surrender. The rest followed through.

The people were not happy, but as they saw your soldiers on the street, witnessing how vicious they were to whoever protested, they calmed down. They have swallowed the fact an Omega is now ruling Rome, their home, fearing for their lives. Nobody had ever tried to take Geta down. Not when you are standing right behind him every second of every day, like his own personal shadow.

“I have one more surprise for you, my love.” You whispered into Geta’s ear, and he smiled as he got up from his chair, seeing all the gladiators now dead on the ring thanks to your men. Guts were all over the dirt as if a painter had done marvelous work. Your men stood in a wide circle as a gate opened, a figure walking in, stumbling. Geta’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you. “I may have kept him alive and lied to you about his departure to savor this moment.”

The Emperor looked back to the field, a small smile appearing on his lips as the crowd remained quiet. Caius stood in the middle of the field, beard now on his features, much more skinnier, bruises on his skin and a sack of potatoes as his only clothes. He looked up at the emperor with tears rolling down his eyes.

“Just for me…”

“He locked you in, intending to murder you. You and I were lucky that the Alpha in that room was me, my sun.” Geta turned around to face you, leaning down to place an appreciative kiss on your lips. Displays of affection were not something common and were frowned upon for indecency, but he couldn’t help himself, and he was the emperor. He could do whatever he pleased. You moaned into the kiss, and he pulled away with a smile, turning around once more, looking down at the doctor who had betrayed him months back.

“Mercy… I ask for mercy, please!” He begged. Mercy? Geta's top lip twitched as he snarled at the man, his right hand coming to rest on his belly. His left hand raised up, thumb right in the middle as you stood behind him. There was no shakiness in his hand. This is Rome. Your Omega’s rome. And you will defend it and him until the day you perish.

And Geta’s finger turned downwards.

the end

a/n: look, i did say the demons won, and this is not everyone's cup of tea, i do know this, but this man is not an alpha. also, a reblog helps

i will tag a few people that interacted with the geta posts: @keeryhours @doomsdaybby @userchai @xgrxcefulx

dividers by @saradika-graphics, banner by me.

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