#emperor geta x empress reader

[littlexdeaths]

emperor geta x empress reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: established relationship, fingering, unprotected piv sex, period sex, blood play, light choking, geta (he’s a warning all his own)

this is really some very bloody period sex… if you aren’t comfortable with that, this isn’t the one for you. also shoutout to @strangerstilinski as always for helping me fix a few things 💕

blood.

it’s everywhere, covering his thighs and smearing onto the linen sheets.

you are straddling his lap, fingers curled in his fiery locks as he guides you along his thick shaft. his eyes are squeezed shut, mouth agape as his end draws near, so it is you that notices the mess first. a panicked whine leaves your lips, and you tug harshly onto his hair in an effort to stop this.

not wanting to be on the other side of his fury when he finally sees what you’ve done.

but only a deep groan rumbles in his chest at your actions, your emperor completely unaware of your current plight.

when you start to shove against his chest is when he finally catches on, his eyes snap open to witness your panicked state.

and then he sees it— the smears of crimson across the sheets.

his grip on your hips tightens immediately and he stops all movement of them. the emperor keeps you seated, with his cock nestled at your deepest point. the emotions that flit over geta’s features are hard to read, but there’s a fire engulfing his eyes. one you’ve only seen when he’s witnessed a man taking the life of another.

but the sudden tightening of his jaw convinces you that he’s angry.

so you quickly scramble off of his lap, pulling the bloodied sheets over your body as a feeling of shame courses through you.

“my lord, i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for—”

he grabs onto your ankle before you reach the end of the bed, and drags you back to him. the male then flips you over onto your back and hovers over your trembling, naked form. he says nothing as his hand dips between the soft skin of your thighs, gathering a mixture of your blood and slick on his fingers.

he holds them up toward the sunlight streaming through the curtains, admiring the dark, sticky substance that coats his pale skin. any feelings of shame soon dissolve into arousal as you grab onto his wrist and carefully guide his fingers back between your thighs.

his dark eyes flick between his blood-stained fingers and your face, a devilish grin overtaking his features as he watches those final traces of anxiety melt away from your expression.

“i’m not even close to being finished with you,” he grunts, greedily gathering more of the mixture on his fingers before they dip inside your dripping cunt. he pumps them inside you urgently, determined to make as much of a mess as possible.

the mewls that fall from your lips only grow louder when he reaches up to wrap his other bloody hand around the base of your throat.

and he eagerly trails his fingers over your bare skin, smearing more blood in his wake. and he doesn’t stop until you’re both covered in it, only then does he replace his dexterous fingers with his thick cock. thrusting back inside you like a rabid beast, aimed for the kill.

his dark gaze drops to where your bodies connect, each hard stroke covers the base of his cock in a creamy, pinky ring. an almost animalistic noise leaves his throat when your eyes meet, and the emperor pulls your body up towards him until your breasts are pressed against his hard chest. then his lips crash against your own, in a mess of tongue and teeth.

geta’s maniacal laughter fills your bed chambers, his ringed fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he bounces you harder onto his cock.

“only a mortal fool would fear a little bloodshed, my dove.”

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

Rage, Ropes, and Release

Emperor Geta just refuses to leave my mind, so here’s yet another fic idea that decided to plague me at work 😩

Emperor Geta x wife!Reader

warnings: 18+ only! Minors DNI to this filth! angry!Geta (not towards Reader), mentions of murder, blood covered Geta, patient!Reader, obedient wife!Reader, masochist!Reader, sadist!Geta, hog tying, whips (we’re going to pretend that riding crops and signal whips existed during the Roman Empire), pussy whipping, knife play, blood consumption, unprotected p in v smut, multiple orgasms, creampie, profanity, etc

You knew exactly when your husband was in an angry mood and in need of some sort of release, his bellowing voice always echoing throughout the halls of the palace which gave you ample time to prepare for what he had in store for you.

But today was different. When you heard that his anger was more outbursts of rage than anything, you just knew that what he needed was going to be beyond his usual rough fuck until neither of you could take anymore.

You were in your shared chambers writing important letters when you heard him going on a literal rampage just a few quarters down the hall, setting your quill down with a bite to your lip as you listened.

“I am sick of you incompetent imbeciles always fucking things up around here! What the fuck is the point of having you around if you can’t do anything right!?”

The rage in his tone had your thighs clenching together and you hoped that when he made it to your chambers when he was finished his ranting that he would take those feelings of rage out on you.

“Is there anyone around here that can do anything right other than myself?! Gods, you make me want to just--” There was a short pause before one of the servants was begging for mercy, but his begging was cut short when Geta lodged his dagger into the servant’s jugular before brutally slashing his throat completely.

You heard the screams from the female servants and knew exactly what your husband had done and that act of brutality itself was what drove you to realize exactly what kind of mood your husband was in and what kind of release he was going to need tonight.

Standing from your chair, you went over to one of your ‘special’ drawers and grabbed the thick ropes from inside, before going over and neatly placing them at the foot of the bed. Then you stripped down to absolutely nothing, positioning yourself at the foot of the bed with the rope in front of you and your hands on your lap as you sat on the bottom half of your legs, patiently waiting for your husband’s arrival.

You could hear his footsteps approaching closer and closer, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth when they paused just outside the door. “What the fuck are you standing around for?! Clean that mess up or you’ll be right there with him!” He snapped at the other servants before swinging the doors to your chambers open, pausing mid step into the room when he saw you ready and waiting for him on the bed with the ropes now held up in your hands.

“I figured you need some release, my love. Care to step things up a bit this time? Take all that rage out on me and do not hold back.” You murmured as you gazed upon his blood drenched form, watching as he closed the doors to your chambers before stalking his way over to you, his pupils blown so wide that the browns of his eyes were no longer existent.

“Oh, my dear wife. At least I know you will never let me down.” He stopped directly in front of where you were knelt at the foot of the bed, his hand tightly grabbing your jaw before he was pulling you up into a heated kiss, his ring clad hand reaching around to give your ass a harsh squeeze. “I can do anything I want to you?”

“Absolutely anything.” You moaned against his mouth, your hands gripping onto his blood soaked robes as you pressed yourself closer to him. “Tie me up and have your way with me, husband.” You smiled, picking up the ropes from where they fell on the bed when he pulled you into the kiss before holding them out to him, your eyes gracefully scanning over his hard set features.

“You’re so good to me. Such a perfect wife.” He sighed as he grabbed the ropes from your hands, a smirk creeping onto his lips as an idea came to mind. “Lay down on your stomach, arms behind your back and legs spread nice and wide for me.” He commanded, watching as you obediently did as told and moved to lay on your stomach with your arms behind your back and your legs spread apart for him.

“That’s a good wife.” He had a sickening grin on his face as he started hog tying you, being sure to tie the knots extra tight. Once he finished, he leaned back to observe his handiwork, his cock completely stood at attention from the vulnerable position he had you in. “Mmmm... I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

You quickly nodded your head in response, an eager moan erupting from your throat before you glanced back at your husband, your cunt clenching at how feral his gaze was as he took the sight of you in. “Take that rage out, husband. I’m all yours to use and abuse.” You encouraged with a hard bite to your lip, humming as his thick fingers kneaded your plush ass cheeks.

“If at any point you need me to stop,--”

“I don’t want you to stop until you’re ready to stop. No matter how much I scream, how much I cry, how bruised or bloody I may get, do not stop until you’re satisfied and your anger has ceased.”

It was Geta’s turn to bite down hard on his bottom lip at your willingness to be used and abused by him, his fingers now swiping up the arousal dripping from your cunt. “So wet for me already and I’ve barely even touched you. What’s gotten you so wet, dove?” He smirked, spreading your arousal all over your pussy lips.

“Your rage, the sounds of our servants screams after you murdered one of them, the sight of you covered in their blood.” You murmured, Geta grinning sadistically behind you. You were almost as crazed as he was and that’s why he chose you to be his Empress, what made him love you indefinitely.

“And you’re only going to grow more wet once I get started.” He mused, giving your cunt a firm slap before stepping away from the bed to start removing his blood soaked ensemble of royal garments. Typically he would dispose of anything that was destroyed by blood, but now that he knew it aroused you to see him covered in someone else’s blood, he planned on keeping these garments in particular.

You listened as his footsteps retreated before hearing as he started digging through one of the drawers on the other side of the room, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sound of a whip cracking from where he stood. You knew in that moment that he had a lot in store for you and you were dripping even more in anticipation of it.

He soon made his way onto the bed to kneel behind where you were hog tied and waiting for him, his dark eyes observing the new, large wet patch on the sheets beneath you. He merely grinned at that, not speaking a word of acknowledgement about it before taking the riding crop he grabbed along with the signal whip and giving a hard whack against your awaiting cunt.

You yelped at the sudden stinging sensation to your folds, your fists clenching and toes curling where they were tied behind you. And then your eyes were springing a leak when he started laying whip after whip after whip to your cunt with the riding crop, your teeth sinking so deep into your bottom lip that it was beginning to bruise and bleed.

A pleasured sob soon erupted from your throat when he forced his entire cock inside you without warning, the feeling of being split wide open on top of the stinging from the whips to your cunt mixing right in with the pleasure coursing through you. It hurt so good and you just knew it was going to get even better once he really got started.

With one hand tightly gripping one of your bound legs and the other now holding the signal whip he first removed from the drawer, Geta began a mindnumbing pace in thrusts that pulled the most lewd mewls from your lips, the force of his thrusts so strong that the bed slammed into the wall each time his hips met your ass.

Your eyes were rolled into the back of your head as you took each pounding thrust of his cock into your already abused cunt, a high pitched cry escaping your throat when he started cracking the whip against your lower back and ass with enough force to split your skin open already.

His cock twitched inside you as blood began to bead from your wound, the sadistic desire to completely ruin you amped up tenfold from your loud cries along with the sight of you at his mercy. He was relentless with the whip, cracking it against your skin to inflict as much pain as he possibly could, but eventually even the whip wasn’t enough for him.

Momentarily pulling out of you, he quickly shushed your whine of protest with a whack of the riding crop against your cunt. “Silence! I’m not finished with you yet.” He promised with a growl, stepping off the bed to retrieve his dagger and cleansing the blade of the blood it was soaked with before returning to his position on the bed.

“So fucking needy.” He growled, taking his dagger and using it to start cutting MINE into the skin where your lower back ended and ass started, grinning devilishly as it had you letting out a pained squeal. He watched as blood seeped from those wounds now, pure sadism alive in his eyes as he gazed upon your bleeding, vulnerable form.

“I love it when you bleed for me.” He sighed deeply before leaning down to start lapping at the blood drawn out of you, earning a lewd moan from your throat while you clenched around nothing. “Do you love bleeding for me?” He inquired as he leaned back to tease the head of his cock against your red and puffy folds, stopping as he was lined up with your abused hole.

“I fucking love it.” You moaned in response, your moan growing more elongated and raspy when he forced his cock back inside you and resumed the ruthless pace in thrusts he’d previously set, your eyes rolling into your skull all over again. He was ruining you just as he said he would and you were loving every minute of it.

Geta grabbed the riding crop again, this time giving multiple hard whips against the fresh cuts he inflicted into your skin and pulling even louder cries of pain mixed with pleasure from your throat. He knew you were going to be sore later, but he would take care of you when that time came to be. “Scream for me.” He demanded, his whips to your cuts getting more harsh with each brutal thrust against your cervix.

You screamed just as he ordered, not only because he told you to but because you had no choice, the stinging and throbbing sensations so intense you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep on your back for quite a while. Despite the pain, you still couldn’t help but to clench around his cock from the pleasure of his brutal thrusts against your cervix, knowing it wouldn’t be long until your orgasm was washing over you.

“That’s it, keep screaming for me. Show me how much it hurts so good to be used and abused.” He growled, dropping the riding crop now so he could firmly grip onto each of your ankles and continue pounding his cock inside you, his head tossed back as you clenched around him even more. He was on the verge of his own orgasm, so much so that all it took was you screaming his name to push him right over that edge.

You mewled as you felt his hot seed painting your insides, continuing to clench around him to milk him for what he was worth. You were quite close to orgasming yourself, but you knew you needed a bit more than just his cock to get you there. “Please, m’so close, husband! Need to make a mess of your cock.” You whimpered, sighing in content when he lifted your hips to reach around and start rubbing your clit in tight circles, giving you just what you needed to reach your own end.

Geta growled as your cum coated each thick inch of his cock, continuing his relentless thrusts inside you and not stopping until both of you came several more times. By the time he pulled out of your beaten and bruised cunt, his own cock was red and sensitive, needing a minute to catch his breath before getting your limbs freed from their restraints.

You breathed out a long sigh of relief when you were finally able to stretch out your arms and legs, smiling when your husband started peppering kisses all over your back side. You knew he was no longer in the mindset he was in when you first got started, the gentleness of his kisses were his way of showing that.

“Are you okay, dove?” He murmured as he gently kissed your cuts, welts, and bruises, wanting to be sure you weren’t in too much pain.

“M’okay, my love. Are you okay? Are you still troubled or did this help you to get that anger out?” You smiled as you turned on your side to look at him, holding yourself up on your elbow. You could see how the browns of his eyes returned and that his face was much more visibly relaxed than it was when he first stepped into your shared chambers, which had you smiling wider.

“To be quite honest, my dear wife, I don’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.” He chuckled before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he cupped your face in his hand. “Thank you for allowing me to take my wrath out on you in such a way, you’re my perfect little pain slut.”

You giggled at that, pressing another kiss to his lips before you were cupping his face in return. “Of course, my love. I’m just happy that it helped. Any amount of pain is worth it when it comes to you.” You murmured.

“Mmm... I love you, my wife. Now let me take care of these cuts before they get infected.”

“I love you too, my husband.” You beamed, allowing him to carefully lift you up so he could carry you to get your wounds taken care of.

Fic tag list: @bugmanor @hellfireadmin @rxgirlie @anythinggoesemily @battiewattie @ajanehopper

If he needed to release his anger in a similar way at some point in the future, you would let him in a heart beat. No matter how much pain he inflicted on you tonight, you knew his love for you outweighed the desire to hurt you. For him, anything was worth it.

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

[munsonmuses]

Emperor Geta x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, gladiatorial combat, animalistic tendencies, uhhhg there’s a breeding kink. This was not proofread.

Word Count: 2.3k

Authors Comments: Iiiii was a major Roman Empire nerd as a kid, so if there’s stuff you’re like “that seemed specific” about? I promise you the research was done and I had to consult my notebooks from when I was a teeny tot (like a young teen). And yes, thumbs up signified death because it represented an upturned sword for combat, and the thumbs down signified sparing the loser, by turning your sword down to sheath

The light fabric of the linen chiton you wore felt like chains, the beautiful gold brooches holding it in place and the belt that rested low on your waist like the shackles. Leading you to a life you’d never wanted. To a future you knew you’d loathe so deeply. This wasn’t the life you’d dreamt of as a young woman. Bringing peace to an empire, marrying a man who was made perfectly for you by the gods.

All of these opportunities had been ripped from between your fingers. Your life slipped away the moment you’d heard that Emperor Geta had set his sights on you. He was callous, pompous, the human equivalent of a promenading lion. He thought nothing but the best of himself, and believed he deserved things equally as good. One of those things being you.

Your finger delicately worked on adjusting the raw leather straps of your sandals. The stephane felt like it was weighting your whole body down, veil swishing against your nape, sending chills down your spine. That the earth may swallow you whole in one fell motion was a wishful thought as you carefully examined the large hall.

It was egregious, how much gold one man could have. How many statues of himself an individual could bare to own. Slowly standing from the large chaise you’d been guided too and approaching one. tracing the curve of his nose, the apples of his cheeks. The manic look they’d managed to capture in his marble portrait, captured perfectly within the massive pupils. Scoffing lightly before hearing a laugh from behind you that caused your skin to pebble viciously. Turning around to face him.

The statue somehow didn’t manage to perfectly capture his mania. Pupils so wide they looked almost entirely black. A wolfish grin. His entire body reeked of need and want.

“You, are even more beautiful than Caracalla described…just look at you-“ his hands clamped down on your upper arms. Holding you in place as he hummed. “You’ll do nicely…” he murmured as you quirked a brow lightly.

You prayed that when you asked, he’d give you a different answer than what you’d been prepared for. Not wanting to surrender yourself to matrimony with a man so viciously bloodthirsty and self righteous. “What will I do nicely for, imperator?” You whispered as he let his eyes glaze over your body. Taking in every inch of you before nodding.

“Don’t be silly, you know what I brought you here for. I have chosen you to be my empress. Not Caracalla’s. Strictly my own.” He insisted as he moved a hand up to grip your jaw while humming. “You’ll take to the role with pride. A loving and affectionate empress…and you’ll give me my sons to lead the future of my empire once my time has come. Am I understood?” He questioned as you scoffed lightly to yourself. Fixing your rings and pulling away. Pacing the large floor of the hall as he kept his eyes on you. Ready to pounce if necessary.

“I am marrying you strictly for familial agreement. Through my loyalty for my empire and my dedication to my familial name…it has nothing to do with you.” You murmured as he sucked on his teeth lightly. You weren’t afraid of him, you saw yourself as an independent being, even a possible equal. An equal amount of hatred that matched his levels of obsession. Overall, he was clearly agitated by your lack of throwing yourself at him, the need for you to desperately present yourself to him. Though he wouldn’t push it. To get you out from under Caracalla’s thumb was difficult enough, so he’d take what he could get.

“Your chambers are prepared, you’ll be dressed for our wedding and you’ll smile. You’ll be grateful.” He ordered as you nodded, allowing the two women by the doorway to follow you out as you sighed in frustration to yourself.

These women were terrified to touch you, though they attempted to feebly conceal their terror as you hummed. Hair carefully arranged with an orange veil placed atop. Slipping into the white woven fabric of your wedding tunic, and slipped on orange sandals. Careful with them as you worked on fastening the knot of Hercules around your waist. Nodding slowly as you assessed yourself in the mirror.

It felt like lead lined your stomach as you approached the large garden, eyes meeting with Geta’s own. Your family and his court clearly anxiously awaiting your arrival. Your dowry had been exchanged, and Geta grinned delightedly at the sight of you approaching. Wringing his fingers, rings loudly knocking together as you frowned in mild fury. He was childish and cocky and self absorbed, albeit a bit handsome.

You stopped in front of him as the two of you read over the marriage contract. His eyes constantly flicking up to you as you lifted your metal pen from the inkwell. Scrawling your name with confidence as he followed suit. His hand suddenly clutching your left wrist as your head whipped to look at him. Geta removing the thick red stoned ring upon one of his fingers and slipping it onto one of your own as he hummed contentedly. Clearly awaiting reciprocation for his affections.

You carefully took his face, pressing a pursed lip kiss to his own plush pink lips as he cradled the back of your head and your waist. Satisfied with his win. Cementing your future with your new husband, as empress.

Your wedding was a few months ago, and in that time you’d been growing to know, like, and even love Geta. Although shrouded in cruel mystery, he did have a tender heart when it came to you. Gifting you lavishly, bathing you in riches and praise. You’d never gone to bed on an empty stomach, and you managed to share romantic pleasantries with him regularly.

You sat beside him as you watched a battle in the coliseum. Head perched on your fist in boredom as he smiled wide at you. The folds of your brooches and adornments complimenting the rich purples of your own robes. Your stephane crooked as his hand delicately reached up to adjust it. “Isn’t this delightful my heart?” He whispered eagerly as you scoffed in light amusement. Grinning lightly at him as you kissed his rings lightly.

“It’s alright. Gladiator fights have never…settled my nerves. If anything the bloodsport terrifies me…” you murmured as his own lips pulled into a tight frown. Though unlike usual, he didn’t have a smart or cold comment to make.

You carefully watched the two men fight, though you could barely call them that. Barely older than sixteen a piece as you chewed on your lip. The larger of the two slamming his sword into the smaller boys shield. Reminding you of the kind boys you’d known in your youth who had the whole world in front of them, stolen in war. Your heart heavy at the sight.

Geta’s eyes were trained on you. Noticing the paleness in your face, watering eyes as you left your chair to look over the edge of the balcony at these boys. Heart pounding in your ears as he sighed. He was furious, he was angry…love had “weakened” him, was what Caracalla had lamented before. But in his eyes, it simply made him better for you. Being weak for one’s own wife was impossible.

Your head whipped to look at him as the smaller boy was bloodied and bruised. Whipped to the ground by his foe as Geta stood slowly for the crowd to see.

He lifted his hand slowly, glancing over at you as his thumb rested on its side. He would typically give a thumbs up, signaling the death of the weaker boy…but instead his thumb dropped. The crowd gasping at the young man being spared at the Emperors command.

Geta’s eyes flicked to you one last time. Seeing nothing but adoration in them as he dismissed his co-contributors frustrated muttering, walking off with you to your shared chambers as he hummed in your ear.

“You’re welcome…” he whispered as you rolled your eyes lightly at him. Kissing his cheek lightly as you closed the large doors behind yourself.

With your back to him, you slowly worked on unhooking the brooches of your chiton, letting the fabric pool at your feet as you worked on removing your sandals slowly. Hearing his movements stop, eyes on you as you grinned lightly over your shoulder.

“You have shown such monumental growth…and kindness…and change, my emperor…” you whispered as you stalked towards him. His breath shaky and heavy as he carefully nodded. “I am so amazed by you…” you murmured as he watched your hands making work of the fasteners on his own tunic. It slipping down his shoulders as you smiled.

“I want…to reward you,” you murmured into his ear. Geta was a man who worked on praise, adoration and reward. He needed something for every “accomplishment” he made. This time you’d give him something more.

He let himself be lied back on your massive bed, his cock slowly hardening. Pressed to his stomach. Cheeks and chest flushed as you hummed lightly to yourself. He deserved this, even if it was simple human decency…it was a major turning point for him.

You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. Lightly nipping at his flushed skin as you worked lower and lower. Pressing kisses down his stomach and licking along the light indentations of his abs before finally paying attention to his desperate cock.

Already twitching lightly, Geta was not a hard man to work up. Lightly pressing warm, open mouthed kisses along his shaft. Tenderly massaging his balls as he whimpered lightly at your ministrations. Following your movements with frantic eyes.

He shivered lightly as he felt your lips lightly wrap around his tip. Lazily sucking and stroking the rest of his shaft lightly. Having used your kisses from earlier as a bit of lubrication. Stroking in time with your slowly bobbing head. Every few moments getting lower and lower. Relishing on the velvety feeling of his thick cock against your tongue. Finally taking your hand away and placing it on his hip. The other taking his right hand and leading it to the back of your head as he trembled lightly. “My heart…please-“ his whisper wasn’t much more than a breath.

The lewd noises of you taking him deep down your throat, slowly sucking while hollowing out your cheeks. Obediently tending to his needs as you groaned desperately against him. Your free hand trailing downward to massage your own clit as he bucked his hips lightly.

“You tease me…” he growled out. “With your desperate hands, your heavenly mouth, your body on full display…you tear me into nothing but tatters of a man…and you relish in my desperation,” he hissed as you pulled your head off.

Stroking his cock lightly as you maintained eye contact with him. Your own blown out with need and want as you continued to tend to your own clit. Sensitive bud twitching under your small, circular motions. Geta’s eyes trained on simply you. Filled with nothing but love and obsession as he growled.

Taking your wrists firmly, he pulled your hands away from both of your own sensitive bodies. Working on lying you back as he pressed his lips to your ear. “You’re a temptress…and you’ll understand just how deeply I want for you…and you’ll give me my sons,” he hissed as he worked one of your legs up around his waist. Keeping one hand on your wrists, pinned above your head as he lined himself up with your wanting cunt. Slowly easing himself into you.

You could feel every vein, every curve. A desperate moan being ripped from you as you arched your back lightly. Geta’s soft laugh and heaving breaths the only other noise you could focus on. His mouth greedily kissing along your soft skin. Nipping at your shoulders and neck. Trailing down to your breasts. Lightly taking your left nipple between his teeth. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud while lazily rolling his hips. Breeding you on his terms.

“Fucking…mnghhh…you’re so good~” he mumbled between mouthfuls of greedy kisses. His thrusts short and swift. Though deep enough to give that knot in your stomach a bit of reprieve. Humming contentedly to himself as he watched your lust clouded eyes. “I can’t promise that you’ll be able to do much once im finished…” he murmured as he began to focus on his thrusts.

Deep and swift, pressing deep into your twitching cunt, your wrists finally free of his grasp as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Holding him close as he fucked deeper into you. “It’s a blessing, to get to carry the future of our empire. Thank me for blessing you…” he growled out as he held your hips firmly. Your moans in time with his thrusts as you struggled to form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck!…thank you, for allow-…allowing me to carry your heirs, and the future of Rome!��� Your voice cracked between moans as he laughed lightly. Working on bringing you to your orgasm as he hummed.

Your body felt like it was ablaze, each thrust causing that knot to unravel further and further. Whimpering in desperation and squawking desperately before letting your head fall back. His name spilling past your lips before feeling that knot come undone. Mouth falling open in incoherent babbles as Geta fucked you through your orgasm. Making sure you were thoroughly satisfied and gritting his teeth.

Unable to hold himself back much longer, his thrusts became short and swift before he hilted himself deep within you and came. His own mutters just broken up syllables of your name, trembling arms, and weak kisses along your skin. His body collapsing upon your own as he pressed hot and gentle kisses to your skin.

“I love you…” he murmured, allowing his eyes to close as you lightly combed through his hair. Your own growing heavy as you sighed.

“I love you too…”

[absurdthirst]

The Future of Rome {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Mentions of orgies, whores, cuckolding, voyeurism, oral sex (male and female receiving), cream pie, breeding, mentions of feeding kink, vaginal sex, pregnancy, betrayal, conspiracy, murder

Comments: When Caracalla is unable to father a child on you, his empress, he enlists General Marcus Acacius to be his proxy between your thighs. Needing his general's seed in his efforts to father the next ruler of Rome.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you watch as your husband, Emperor Caracalla of Rome, paces in the large room, screaming and shouting like an overgrown child. At times, it feels like that is what he is, a child. A man child who controls the largest empire in the world, alongside his brother Geta. The two of them engaged in squabbles that would have all of the citizens of Rome demanding new leadership if they knew of them. “You must carry a child!” He hisses, turning and glaring at you as if you are at fault for the monthly flow of blood that comes between your thighs like clockwork. “How have you not been bred yet? I fill you nearly every week.” His eyes narrow and he stops his stride to turn towards you. “Are you doing something? Taking some tonic to prevent a child from growing?” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “Of course I would not.” You tell him. “It is my duty to provide you with an heir. Before Geta.” You know your husband wishes to best his brother by having a child before he does. “You are still fucking your concubines.” You remind him. “None of them have fallen pregnant with your bastard. Perhaps your seed is bad.” You could be risking his wrath by telling him what no hippocrates would, but he has never sired one bastard and he indulges in orgies and women all the time. You have no love for the husband you had been forced to marry by your father in return for Rome not destroying your homelands.

Caracalla’s eyes grow wide and he hisses, striding over to you and you brace yourself as he hits you across the face with the back of his hand. You gasp and he looms over you, “you dare to insult me like that, uxor? I am divine. Ordained by the gods and you are? Some whore daughter of a King who wilted under the glory of the Roman army. You are fortunate I chose you to be Empress. An honor I bestow upon you and you have the gall to question my seed.” He rants but he knows you could be true. He longs to have an heir before his brother and even if he fucks you every day, you still bleed. He has never fathered a bastard. You cup your cheek, keeping your head down and he sighs, “we must seek a solution.” He declares, frowning as he considers his options to ensure he beats his brother to the heir.

You bite your lip to keep from crying, knowing that tears would only incense the man you are married to even more. Caracalla does not like to see you cry, even if he is cruel and cutting. When he punishes you for any perceived slight. Tears are a sign of weakness in his eyes and he will not have you shed them in his presence. “What solution would you have?” You know he cannot seek out a healer, the risk of rumor would be too great. Any kind of whisper about this would make its way back to Geta. 

He paces in front of the balcony, the linens flowing in the breeze. “I need an heir who will be strong, a fighter. I need a boy. I need you to give birth to the next heir. We need to ensure that you get pregnant as soon as possible.” He murmurs, speaking his mind and he finally turns to you. “We need to have someone else get you pregnant. We need - General Marcis Acacius.” He declares, eyes wide.

You frown, trying to recall what the man looks like. He has been away from Rome for nearly two years, since just after you had married Caracalla. “He looks nothing like you.” You point out.

“I don’t need him to look like me. I need a boy and he’s a strong fighter. He will give our child the characteristics he needs to lead Rome and her army.” He declares, “you will fuck him when he returns.” He orders and you swallow harshly, knowing you will struggle to have relations with a man that isn’t your husband but you have no choice but to do as he demands.

“I will gift you to him to fuck.” He continues on, a wild and honestly frightening smile splitting his face. “It will be an honor, for fighting so valiantly for Rome.” He isn’t talking to you, but rather plotting out what will happen. You can’t quite recall what Marcus Acacius looks like, but you hope that he will be quick to cum like Caracalla, or at least his seed will take root quickly.

****

Marcus looks up at the marbled entrance as he arrives at the palace to meet the Emperors and tell them about his success in person. He’s sent messengers but he must tell them of his accomplishments rather than be allowed to return to his home to relax. He sighs as he adjusts the white and gold tunic and armor that suffocates him. It’s for display, not ideal for battle, and he knows the Emperors will have a feast planned soon after his report and he’s expected to be on display. He scratches his cheek as he is escorted through the halls until he arrives in the grand hall where the Emperors are waiting. He strides to stand before them and bows his head, “Rome is in your hands.” He vows, “we have conquered Africa.” He announces, “for you and for Rome.”

Dressed in snowy white silk and gold, you are sitting off to the side, ignored by your husband and brother as they had waited for the general’s approach. You had heard the crowds outside the palace, the roars echoing dimly and you sat up slightly from the chaise when the doors had opened. Finding a much different man than you had expected walking confidently towards them. He’s older than you remembered, but his gray hair is still pleasant as it mixes with his darker locks. He’s handsome, not the sharp nosed beauty of your fair husband, but darker, broader. His nose is curved and his eyes are the color of night from where you sit. You want to see them up close. He’s large, larger than Caracalla and you wonder if you are the whore some have whispered you must be, for you want to see what this man would be like inside you.

Caracalla cannot let his brother know his plan. No one can know. Geta greets Marcus who bows his head and his dark eyes flick over to you for a moment. When you arrived at the palace you were reluctant to marry Caracalla. He remembers hearing the rumors of your attempts to escape, and the way Caracalla treats you from guards that he served with. He clenches his jaw, standing up straight and the Emperors sing his praises so he offers them polite smiles. He’s sick of war. He’s tired of fighting an endless battle for more land when the Roman Empire is struggling. People cannot eat. Men are dying. It’s an endless grab for power and the Emperors are not fighting for it themselves. “Tonight, we feast in your honor.” Geta declares, clapping Marcus on the back and he follows the Emperors to the head table where he will sit while the court and the senate celebrate his success.

When his eyes land on yours, a shiver races through your body. This is a man who has seen death. Dealt out harsh punishments and narrowly survived. He’s much more rugged, raw. So different from your spoiled and foppish husband. He should be a leader for Rome, rather than a man who has never seen war. You are ignored, so you undrape yourself from your seat and slowly stroll into the hall to join the festivities.

Marcus notices you as you sit down beside your husband and he’s taken back by how beautiful you are but he also sees the sadness in your eyes. The lifeless stare across the room tells him you’re lonely while your husband guzzles wine and cheers for the victory he played no physical part in. He does as is expected, eating and drinking his fill but he thinks about the starvation he witnessed, the poverty that the empire has caused from taxing too much and forcing more war on its people. “We shall acquire whores to pleasure you, General.” Geta insists, “you will be serviced until you feel rewarded for your victory for Rome.” The court cheers and Caracalla then leans in towards you, “return to your room. I want you ready to take the general.” He commands, whispering in your ear.

You don’t sigh, nodding and leaning in to kiss his cheek for show before you stand up and walk out of the room without looking back. Knowing the Emperor, he will want you nude and wearing some of the jewels that had been sent back to Rome as tribute. You have already been bathed and perfumed by your servants in anticipation of your husband fucking you tonight, but Caracalla always demands privacy in the wing of the palace you live in. His oddity will work in his favor for concealing who is planting his seed in your belly tonight.

Marcus is ready to head home when Caracalla whispers in his ear, “I wish to speak privately.” Marcus frowns as he pulls back to look into the manic eyes of the emperor and he knows he can never deny him. He nods and stands with the emperor. He bows to Geta even though the other emperor is busy with his tongue down a whore’s throat as the festivities begin. Caracalla dismisses his guards with a wave of his hand and he guides Marcus through the halls until he enters his private chambers. Marcus is anxious, wondering if the emperor is going to kill him even though the idea is laughable. He’s been a man of luxury. Only carrying a sword for show and never for battle. The emperor still doesn’t speak as he strides over to the doors and he opens them to display you on the bed naked and draped in jewels, a nervous look on your face. “What is the meaning of this?” Marcus demands, confused and wanting to leave to retire to his villa. Not to play games.

“I tried to imagine what kind of reward a man of your talents would enjoy.” Caracalla hums as he smirks victoriously. You are a gorgeous creature and he knows that the man will have no problem mounting you. “Whores are too boring, they have had too many men, been soiled by their pleasures.” He takes Marcus’s shoulders and turns him back towards you and the bed. “But an Empress’s cunt? She’s only had one other cock. She’s practically pure and it’s tight.” He chuckles. “My brother gives you a common whore to fuck, I give you a royal cunt.” Again, it’s a competition between the brothers and he’s determined to best Geta.

Marcus’s eyes widen at the Emperor’s offer and he looks over at you. His cock twitches under his tunic at the way you’re on display for him, but he wonders if this is some kind of test from the emperor. He swallows harshly and looks back at Caracalla. “You honor me but I am - I am satisfied with whores. I do not want to sully the empress with my - with my body. She is divine and deserves to be fucked by a man like you, a man chosen by the gods.”

You lift a brow, wondering what the Emperor will say to that. Would he admit that he has been unsuccessful in breeding you? That there is something wrong with him? Or will he blame it on you? There is no telling with Caracalla. You shift to your knees, spread apart on the bed so he can get a good look at your body.

Marcus’s cock twitches again, hardening as your breasts bounce and he swallows harshly, averting his eyes once again. “I don’t - I don’t understand.” Marcus admits, knowing that only the emperor can fuck the empress to get her with child. “I want you to fuck my uxor and I want to watch.” Caracalla confesses, “and I want you to spill your seed inside of her.”

His eyes slide over your body again and you can see the way his cock is starting to lift the fabric of his tunic. Your nipples are hardening because you are enticing this war-hardened general. “The emperor is very generous.” You tell Marcus, sliding a hand up to cup one tit. “He has never been one to share and yet he wishes to honor his general.” You don’t mention why he would want such a thing. “Do you not like cunt?” You ask, wondering if he might prefer the boys in the bath houses. You have heard rumors of some senators who often prefer the company of men than their wives. Perhaps the general is one of them.

Marcus shakes his head, “no. I- I do. It’s just -” He looks at Caracalla, “you’re the empress and I cannot - the heir cannot be from anyone but the emperor.” Marcus reasons and Caracalla reaches out to squeeze his shoulder, “you have to understand, General, I am asking you to fill up my wife. We have been unsuccessful in our venture to have an heir and I must beat my brother to it. I wish for you to spill your seed inside my empress…regardless of the consequences.” He declares and Marcus’s eyes widen slightly as he understands what is being asked of him.

You can see that Marcus Acacius is not a foolish man, he understands the danger he has found himself in. He cannot deny the Emperor, and he could never speak of it. “Maritus.” You murmur softly, bringing his attention back to you. “Tell the general what kind of son you wish to have.”

Caracalla senses Marcus’s panic and he smirks, “I want a warrior son. Someone who will be strong and fight for Rome, to protect our line.” He says even though he knows the child would not be his blood. “The name. My name must continue through him. I want a gladiator and you possess those traits. I wish for my son to have them. Do you wish to fill my beautiful wife with your seed and produce the next heir to the Roman Empire?” He asks even though he knows no one says no to the emperor.

You can see that Marcus is torn. He can’t say no, just like you could not run away from him when he had decided to take you as his empress. “He is handsome.” You coo. “Strong. He will put a son you will be proud of in my belly.” You tell your husband. “While enjoying himself by having an empress spread her thighs for him.”

Marcus knows he can’t refuse. He must fuck you and you’re a beautiful woman but he prays to the gods that the emperor doesn’t change his mind and punish you or him after the act is complete. “As my emperor wishes.” He nods and Caracalla claps, “excellent. My uxor will strip you. I wish to watch the act.” He says, spinning to make his way to the chair in the corner. Marcus is shocked that the man wants to watch but he doesn’t deny him, knowing that could be his head. He nods and walks over to the bed, waiting for your move.

Sliding off the bed, you stand straight, unashamed of your nudity. You might have only had Caracalla as a lover, but he often wanted you nude to just gaze upon you while you were together. You reach for the golden laurel on his head and remove it gently. “Tonight we will see if your prowess in battle is matched by your vigor in bed.” You smile at him, wanting to make sure he doesn’t change his mind. “If your cock truly is as big as your sword.” You giggle. “Some of the women you have fucked talk.”

Marcus’s cock is hardening with your words and your touch. You are one of the most beautiful women in the empire, if not the most, and Marcus is not immune to your beauty. You set his laurel down and Caracalla takes his place in the corner of the room. He flusters at his reputation and wonders what you will think of him. If he lives up to the rumors.

You try to forget your husband is watching, concentrating on the man in front of you. The gold wrist cuffs come off and you wonder if he would prefer the unadorned look. Rather than being weighed down by the ostentatious trappings of his role. You know you would rather live simply. “Relax, General.” You hum quietly. “The emperor has taught me how to please him. Hopefully I will please you as well.”

Marcus is nervous, anxious, and every emotion a man can be when he’s being used for his seed and watched as he pleasures the wife of one of the most powerful men in the empire. He keeps his hands by his sides until you reach for the hem of his tunic. He’s ashamedly hard, unable to be anything but when you are in front of him. You smell delicious and he knows he’d be diving into your cunt if you came to his home without your status and stature.

Biting your lip, you lift the tunic to reveal his hard cock and you moan softly. “Step back, let me look.” Caracalla demands and you turn to the side to show the emperor his cock. “He is very well endowed.” Your husband smirks. “Good. I would hate for my son to have a less than impressive cock.” He is very proud of his own, even if he is not as thick as Marcus. You reach down and brush your finger over the length as you pull the tunic over his head.

He hisses when your fingers brush his length and you smirk, tossing his tunic aside. Caracalla often indulges in men when he is in the throes of an orgy and he is impressed by the general. His shoulders are broad and muscular. Strong arms. Tapered waist and a full head of hair, albeit graying, even in his ripe age. This is the man who could sire him a son who would be legendary in Rome. “Kiss him.” Caracalla demands, wanting to be in control even if it is not his seed securing his lineage.

You lick your lips, leaning in and press your lips to the slightly chapped ones of the general. You sense his hesitation, knowing that he is unsure of the motives behind this. Instead of pulling back, you press your breasts against his chest, feeling the light hairs covering his skin tickle you.

His fingers flex and Caracalla chuckles, “you can touch her, General.” There’s the permission Marcus needs. His hands slide along your back, pulling you even closer and one hand slides up your body to cup your cheek, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue finds yours and you squeak, unused to such aggressive kissing. Caracalla likes softer especially when he’s wanting the opposite of his lovers or orgies.

Your husband hums, reaching for his wine with one hand and reaching down to squeeze his cock with the other. If it would not potentially ruin the chances of you conceiving a child, he would join you. See how Marcus kisses. Instead, he takes pleasure in knowing that the most powerful general in his army is following his orders even off the battlefield.

Marcus groans into your mouth, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass while he grips the back of your neck. He’s relieved that he sought the company of a whore before arriving back in Rome. He would embarrass himself if he were pent up. He loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair and he is glad to see the empress is not shy about taking what she wants.

The emperor very rarely lets you do what you wish, so this is a new experience for you and you are greedy for it. “Get on your knees.” The order comes from behind you and makes you pull away. Aware that Caracalla will still try to dictate the way you are fucked. “Let the general see you on your knees before him and feel your mouth around his cock.”

Marcus inhales sharply as he watches you sink to your knees in front of him. His sandals are still on his feet while his cock throbs from arousal. Your eyes are sultry as you look up at him,  looking like Venus herself. He swallows and hisses softly when you wrap your fingers around his cock.

You squeeze him gently, feeling him throb in your hand and you roll back the foreskin. You have pleasured your husband like this countless times and he claims you are good at it, so hopefully you don’t disappoint the general. Leaning forward, you press your tongue flat against the tip and then curl it around the head as you take him into your mouth. The general has bathed, so he tastes clean and musky.

His fingers flex by his side as you take him into your mouth. He groans quietly but Caracalla shakes his head, "I want to hear how my empress is making you feel." He demands and Marcus nods, groaning louder when you take him deeper into your mouth. "Fuck." He curses, his hand finding your cheek as he looks down at you.

You hum at his rough praise, feeling the way his hips slightly rock, like he wants to take control and fuck your mouth. Taking him deeper, you moan when the first spurt of his salty seed hits your tongue, a little treat to tell you he is enjoying it.

His eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the feel of your mouth around his cock. He can tell you’re not as experienced as the whores he has had but you are enthusiastic and he fucking loves that. “Open your eyes, Acacius.” Caracalla orders, wanting to see the pleasure on the man’s face.

You take him deep right as he opens his eyes and they widen in shock as he chokes out a sound that goes straight to your cunt. Pleased that you can make a man as strong and fierce as the general choke on his own breath. You start to bob your head quickly, wanting to hear more and to see his face screw up in pleasure.

Marcus groans, his chin resting on his chest as he watches you take his cock. “Fuck.” He grunts as your hands rest on his thighs as you take his cock in your mouth. His stomach clenches and he moans, shaking his head. “I am - I’m going to- shit. Stop.” He pleads, his cock twitching in your mouth.

You are surprised that he is already about to cum, but maybe he has been without the pleasure of a woman for too long. You pull off his cock, panting yourself as you wipe your chin. Your cunt is dripping and you are eager to see if his cock scrubs against your walls the way you hope he does. Despite your initial reservations about having sex with someone else, you now find yourself looking forward to fucking this man

He is shocked how quickly you worked him up but perhaps it’s because this is not a whore he’s paid for. You are the most coveted woman in the empire, a prize to your husband, and you’re on your knees for him. Caracalla smirks at the look on the general’s face. He looks worked up and the emperor smirks, “you need to spill inside her. Uxor, lay down on the bed and spread your legs for the general. Let him see how wet you get sucking a cock.”

You shift to your feet and turn around. Your eyes slide to your husband and you see that he is turned on, his own cock tenting his tunic. Laying down, you spread your legs. Bending your knees you run your hands down to spread the lips of your sex for him to see. “Soaked.” You moan softly.

Marcus’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your wet cunt. You’re dripping and he loves it. He reaches down to squeeze his cock as he shuffles closer. Caracalla smirks at the look on the general’s face. “You can fuck her, Acacius. You have the emperor’s blessing. Fill her with your seed and create the next emperor of Rome.” He demands and Marcus shifts to kneel on the bed. His free hand slides up your thigh until he’s pushing two thick digits into your dripping cunt.

Your eyes flutter closed on a loud moan, feeling the way his fingers stretch you out. His hands are rough, the skin scraping so deliciously inside you and making your legs shift and shake around his hips. This man will be so different from the only other man you have had sex with, you know that instinctively and for a split second, you pray to the gods that it will take more than one time for him to successfully fill you with his seed. 

He pumps his fingers, loving how wet you are around them, and he groans when you squeeze his digits. He wants you to cum like this. His thumb against your clit, he curls his fingers while your emperor watches you. His fingers squeeze his cock through his tunic while Marcus strokes his cock with his fist.

Your body responds to the sure, deep pumps of his fingers into your cunt. “Gods.” You whimper, watching as his dark, intense eyes watch his fingers move inside you. Completely focused on making you feel blissful before he mounts you. You won’t say that your husband hasn’t pleasured you, but it’s always been a byproduct of his own, rather than his complete goal. “It feels so good. His fingers are magical.”

Caracalla smirks as he watches your back arch and you moan as Marcus pumps his fingers into you. The room is filled with a squelch as you take what he gives you. “That’s it, Empress.” He coos, pressing his thumb harder against your clit.

You pant out your first name. “Call me by my name when you are inside me.” You order breathlessly, wanting to hear him say your name. Turning your head, you look to your husband behind you, seeing that he is actually enjoying watching you like this. You know he has attended many orgies and probably watched many people have sex, but his eyes are alight with glee, watching this general touch you.

Marcus watches you as you take his fingers and groans at the way you are fluttering around his digits. He says your name as a demand, wanting you to fall apart for him before he fucks you full of his seed. Caracalla watches and smirks, his cock now pulled out so he can slowly jerk himself at the sight in front of him.

Whimpering quietly, your body starts to react. Toes curling and thighs shaking as your cunt clenches down around his thick fingers. “Marcus!” Your gasp of his name is loud, almost surprised as the intense pleasure rips through you, his fingers pressing against something wonderful inside you.

He groans, cock twitching in his hand as you soak his digits and Caracalla chuckles, “she loves your fingers, General.” Marcus smirks and works you through it, pulling his fingers out after you start to whine. “You want me to fuck you, Empress?” He asks, smirking as he jerks his cock against your pelvis.

You moan, nodding as you try to roll your hips down. He looks confident now, like the general you know he must be on the battlefield. “I do, General. Fuck me full.”

He nods, shifting to position his cock at your entrance, swiping it through your folds as he groans softly when he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push inside you with a soft groan of your name. You’re so tight and hot, his eyes flutter closed at the way you feel around him. 

He’s thick. Thicker than Caracalla, stretching you more than his fingers did and pulling a long, wanton moan from your chest. You are taking another man. Having his cock inside you and you hear your husband groan as he watches. He sounds almost envious, but you can only care about the way Marcus fills you right now. “Fuck.” You whine when his hips are flush and his cock is pushed deep and kissing your womb. “Your cock is made by the gods.” You praise breathlessly.

Marcus looks down at you, his chest heaving at the way you are taking his cock and he shifts to his forearms so he can hover over you. Your legs lift to wrap around his hips and his face hovers near yours. “You’re so tight.” He hisses and Caracalla smirks, “I told you. She’s like a virgin.” He declares as he squeezes his cock in his hand, working himself as Marcus starts to move inside you.

That first thrust is a sharp snap of his hips. Making you scream and your nails dig into his biceps. Marcus freezes, fearing that he had made an error, but your thighs tighten. “More, move general.” You demand, wanting to see if he can make you scream like that again.

He loves the way you command him, reminding him of your status. He relaxes now that he knows he didn’t hurt you and he rocks his hips, pushing deep into you. “Empress. Scream for me.” He growls, leaning in to kiss your neck since he doesn’t know if kissing is permissible. His hips rock forward as he pushes against your cervix.

You moan softly, knowing that he will make you scream if he moves like this inside you. “Kiss him.” Caracalla orders, giving permission and you quickly turn your head to press your lips to Marcus's as his head comes up. He rocks into you steadily, your fingers tracing over the scars on his back and side as he fucks you. Mapping the wars that he has fought and the times he has survived to experience this moment. “So deep.” You whimper. 

He is lost in the feel of your hot cunt around his cock. Your body takes everything he gives you. His hips slap against your ass and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can grab your thigh, pushing it back towards your stomach as he sinks impossibly deeper into you. His tongue sliding against yours to swallow your moan.

You don’t even think about Caracalla, although you hear the sound of him stroking his cock. Too taken by the way that Marcus fucks you. He’s rougher, harder than your husband and his pace makes your walls flutter around his cock every time he drills into you. It’s so wicked, forbidden and the people of Rome would be horrified if they knew that their Empress was being fucked like a common whore, but you love it. 

He groans into your mouth as you grip his shoulders and he rocks harder into you, wanting to feel you cum around him. His hand slides up your thigh until he’s rubbing your clit. He may have had many whores but he’s always prided himself on ensuring they were pleasured too. “Empress.” He groans against your chin, “want you to cum for me.”

You whine into his mouth when he comes back to kiss you. Rocking up against his fingers as you try to get as close as possible to him. One hand slides down to his ass, feeling it flex as he pumps into you. “Yes. Yes.” You chant, eyes closed in bliss.

Marcus grunts as he grinds into you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster as he wants you to cum for him. He kisses along your neck and Caracalla is invisible to him as he focuses completely on you. “Cum for me.” He demands and you cry into his mouth as you fall apart for him.

It’s good, better than any pleasure Caracalla has ever given you but you can never admit that. Your body trembles under his as your walls spasm around him. Making him groan as you gasp out his name. “Marcus!” You feel how you soak his cock and the sounds it makes as he fucks you through it.

He loves the way you squeeze him and he hisses your name, rocking into you. He knows he should hold off, make you fall apart again but he is wound up by the circumstances. “Fill her up, Acacius.” Caracalla demands and Marcus buries his face in your neck as he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s pushing deep and filling you up with hot spurts of cum.

The hot splash of his seed makes you whine, eyes closed as you feel him ride out his pleasure, cock pulsing inside you. He doesn’t pull out of you immediately and you enjoy his weight on top of you. He is heavier, broader than your husband and you like feeling like you are at his mercy. The sweat slick skin of his back slides under your fingers and you stroke it and you sigh in bliss.

Marcus shifts to take his weight off you and he swallows harshly. He hasn’t cum that hard since he was with his wife. He kisses your neck without Caracalla seeing it and your emperor stands, cock in his hand, to stand at the foot of the bed. “Pull out of her. I want to see your seed drip out of her.” He demands and Marcus shifts to pull out of you. He lays beside you and Caracalla stands there, eyes dark as he takes in the sight of your dripping cunt.

You can’t really tell what your husband is thinking, his eyes wide and slightly manic. He’s not upset, that much you can tell. “What do you think, maritus?” You ask softly.

He smirks, jerking his cock as he kneels on the bed. “I want to cover you in my seed.” He says as he watches you while you lay on the bed, chest heaving.

You don’t dare look over at Marcus, keeping your eyes on your husband as he starts to buck into his hand. You can tell he’s already close from the groans. “Cover me.” You urge him, spreading your thighs wider. “Coat me and we will pray to the gods that they will give you a strong child.”

Caracalla doesn’t hesitate as he starts to cover you. Hot drops of his seed hitting your skin and covering your cunt that is still creamy from Marcus’s cum. “That’s it. It’s - our warrior.” He groans as he works himself empty of every drop while Marcus relaxes beside you.

You reach down and swipe your fingers through his seed and bring it up to your mouth. He loves when you taste him and he finally milks the last drops out of his cock as you moan softly, licking your digits clean.

Caracalla smirks, “perfect. Fucking perfect. You will be with child before we know it.” He says as he looks over at Marcus, “I want you here to fill her up every day until she’s with child.” He demands, “you will remain here in our quarters. No one will question you because we have no guards inside.”

You are surprised by the Emperor’s order, but you don’t question it. “Will you be present every time, or do you want him to fill me as often as possible?” You ask, looking over at the general to see what he thinks.

Marcus knows he cannot say no. He nods and shifts to sit up on the bed. “I shall do as my emperor desires.” He promises and Caracalla smirks, “you’ll fill her up every single day until it takes.” He demands and Marcus bows his head. “I will let you two decide the times. I cannot afford to spend too much time here and I don’t want people to get suspicious.”

“Of course, maritus.” You shift to your knees and press your lips to your husband’s briefly and he huffs before pushing you back down to the bed. “You must lay there.” He tells you. “Lift your hips so his seed isn’t wasted.”

Marcus reaches for his tunic, suddenly feeling awkward as he redresses while you lay down and keep your hips tilted. He possibly just got the empress pregnant and no one can ever know. The senate would have him killed for his treason, Geta certainly would. Caracalla tucks himself away and strides over to clap Marcus on the back. “I’ll show you to your rooms and we will have your things brought to the palace.” Marcus nods, letting the emperor guide him through the halls until he’s in an ornate room. “You have one job now, General. Fuck my uxor and fill her until it takes.” Caracalla says, his eyes a little manic. Marcus nods and watches the emperor leave. He looks around and sighs, wondering what he’s gotten himself into.

You lay with your hips for an hour. Bored and replaying your encounter with Marcus as Caracalla’s cum dries on your skin. He’s a better lover than your husband and you are ashamed of it, but you are looking forward to having him in your bed again.

Marcus looks around the room, unsure of what to do or say as he comes to the realization that his dream of enjoying time alone in his villa is long gone. He’s under the thumb of the emperor now and he must do as he says otherwise he will face execution.

****

The next afternoon, you find Marcus on the balcony, appearing deep in thought. “I am not disturbing you, am I General?” You ask softly, waiting by the pillar for him to acknowledge you. You wonder what he thinks about this, about being commanded to fill you with his child.

Marcus turns to look at you, reminded of how beautiful you are as the sun shines on your face. “Good day, Empress. You’re not disturbing me.” He promises, “are you well?” He asks, wanting to make sure he hasn’t harmed you.

“I am.” You smile as you walk out onto the balcony and look at the gardens below. “Sore, in a very good way.” You assure him, glancing over at him before looking back out at the neatly manicured hedges and plants. “I hope that you do not feed trapped here.” You murmur softly. “I am sure you are used to doing what you wish when you wish it.”

Marcus looks down at the olive trees and sighs, his hands wringing together. “You and I both know we have no choice but to follow the orders of the Emperor. I did not imagine returning from war to engage in the breeding of the empress. You are a beautiful woman and if you were not the uxor of Caracalla, I would be thanking the gods for letting me be in your bed, but the circumstances are…unusual. As long as you have need of me, I’m at your service.” He assures you, “it is not a task to fuck you but I worry for the day the emperor changes his mind.”

“Caracalla cannot have anyone know about his bad seed.” You murmur quietly. “Especially not Geta. He will not change his mind, but…..” you look around and lower your voice. “I do not trust that he might get rid of you once I have given birth to a son.”

Marcus turns to look at you again, “I would not be surprised but I’d rather have that issue several moons from now instead of being killed for not following orders. It will not be a hard task to put a child in you but you must tell me if you do not wish to take me.” He insists, “I do not want to fuck an unwilling woman.”

You snort, turning to look out at the gardens so he doesn’t see your embarrassment. “He would have my tongue cut out for admitting this, but you are better.” You admit softly. “I spent an hour with my hips tilted towards the gods, replaying what you had just done to me, imagining it happening again and again.”

Marcus turns to look at you, eyebrows raised, and he cannot deny that his cock twitches while his chest puffs with pride. “Is that so? Do you wish for us to…repeat the event soon to ensure the next emperor of Rome? I must admit that I have had many women, most of them whores, but no one has made me cum as hard as you did.”

That makes you straighten, pleased by the notion that you can bring this general to his knees. Making his core quiver in pleasure despite your lack of experience with partners. You bite your lip and turn towards him. “Perhaps we should retire and make sure that we have enough energy for our next session?” You ask, your fingers sliding along the smooth marble edge of the balcony to touch his hand. “The emperor was most insistent that you fill me often. I believe that we should obey his orders.” 

Marcus smirks, seeing the eager look in your eyes, and he leans closer. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint the emperor. Shall we convene in your quarters or mine?” He asks, his eyes dropping down to your lips. You’re forbidden to everyone except Caracalla and now…him. It’s intoxicating especially when you tell him he’s better. Even if it’s just to float his ego. 

“Yours.” You decide, wondering if it will be acceptable to him. “Unless you need to leave again as soon as it’s done?” You ask, hoping that he would not want you to leave. You spend a lot of time by yourself and you are curious to hear about his campaigns and the places he has seen. 

He glances back over the gardens, “I am here to fulfill an order from the emperor and I wish to do it to the best of my ability. Let us retire to my quarters and you are welcome to remain as long as you please.” He promises and he wants to speak to you about your former kingdom, your father, and the army who took you from your home to deliver you to the Emperor.

Nodding, you feel that same odd sense of giddiness that had overcome you last night. A forbiddenness that has been temporarily allowed, even ordained by the gods. A taste of normalcy, where you can pretend that you are not an Empress. Nothing but a woman that this handsome, virile man wants. “Call me by my name.” You ask, almost as a plea. 

His eyes meet yours and he licks his lips as he says your name. He loves the smile you give him in return and his hand brushes yours, “lead the way, empress.” He demands, saying your name again when you narrow your eyes at him.

“Do you prefer to be called by your rank or your name?” You ask softly, turning away from the balcony and walking back inside with him towards his chamber.

“You can call me by my name.” He says, following you as you walk through the hallway to his newly assigned quarters. It’s more than anything he’s ever had before. Even in his beautiful villa. He follows you inside and shuts the door behind you, “you are exquisite.” He declares when you turn to look at him.

“Do you claim those words for every whore you fuck?” You ask curiously, tilting your head as you smile at him, showing him that you are teasing. “Or do you save that for the special ones?”

Marcus shakes his head, “there’s usually no words when I have a whore in my quarters. I like to speak with my actions. Not my words.” He confesses, stepping over to you. He reaches up to cup your cheeks, “you truly are Venus herself.” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

“You are handsome.” You admit breathlessly. “Strong, fierce. Like Apollo.” Your hands run up the soft white tunic he is wearing. “I thought so last night when you were inside me. Riding me hard and yet-“ your lips brush against his. “Your lips were tender.”

His cock twitches at the soft contact of your lips and he can’t help it. He grabs the back of your neck and drags you closer to him, tilting his head so he can press his lips to yours. You’re so soft against him, pliable as his other hand grips your waist.

He’s so dominant, in control. You can tell this is a man who is used to being in charge, taking what he needs to take. You don’t resist, pressing yourself against his hard body, letting the kiss deepen as you open your mouth and let out a soft moan.

His tongue slides against yours and he groans you relinquish power to him. You’re so eager to please. He wants to taste you though, all of you. His mouth pulls away from yours so he can kiss along your jaw down to your neck, and he starts walking you backwards towards his bed.

You let him guide you, willing to do whatever he wants. Although it’s easy to see that he wants your dress off when his fingers reach for the ornate pin on your shoulder that keeps the material up. You wonder if it will be different this time since Caracalla isn’t watching.

He pulls on the pin and your robes fall to the marbled floor, exposing you to the cool breeze and he pushes you back onto the bed, loving the way your tits bounce as you fall backwards. He wants to taste you so he grabs your waist, lifting you higher up the bed, and he pushes your thighs apart, wasting no time before he dives in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You gasp in surprise, eyes widening as you lurch up. It’s not that you’ve never had this kind of attention, but that it’s rare. Caracalla prefers to have your mouth on him. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you moan loudly when he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He groans at the tangy taste of your arousal. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes them apart so he can slide his tongue against your clit. “Fuck.” He curses when he pulls back for a moment, spreading you with his thumbs so he can suck your clit into his mouth.

You whine his name, closing your eyes. “Marcus.” Your hips roll up until he throws one arm over your waist to pin you down. Holding you in place while he does wonderful things to your cunt with his tongue.

He laps at your cunt, wanting to hear you fall apart for him. There’s no rush for this. Caracalla isn’t watching and you are alone with the general. He approaches your cunt like a battlefield, using the best method to make you fall apart for him. He laps at your clit, his fingers digging into your thigh as he pushes it towards your stomach with a groan.

You pull your thighs back like he wants, reaching down and holding them so he can lick as deep as he wants into you. Moaning out his name again as he continues to feast on your cunt like a man who has been given his last meal besides an execution.

He groans into your flesh, loving the way you open yourself up for him, and he slides his tongue as deep as he can go, loving the tang of your arousal and the way you moan his name.

He groans in your flesh, vibrating it deep into your core and it makes you clench around his tongue. Pushing your hips down against his face, you want to grind into it. To ride his tongue. You’ve heard of such things, witnessed some of the orgies when you had been spying on your husband’s parties after you had been sent off to bed. “Marcus, oh fuck. I- it’s so good.”

He loves hearing your cry of pleasure and his nose presses against your clit. His hand on your hips slides up to squeeze your breast, wanting you to cry out his name again. At this moment, he doesn’t care about anyone hearing your cries even though the Emperor wants this to be your dirty secret. He groans and pinches your nipple, wanting you to fall apart again.

You shiver, your legs tremble as you climb closer to your peak. Feeling your body start to buck again as he pinches your nipple again. “Cum for me and I’ll fuck you.” He rasps out, pulling away from your cunt long enough to order you to cum before he dives back into it. Throwing you over the edge with another swipe of his tongue, your cunt starts to gush in pleasure as you clench around nothing.

He laps up every drop you offer. Like elixir, he greedily sucks at your folds and your clit, working you through your orgasm as his fingers grip your body to keep you in place until you push his head away, overstimulated. He’s aching, hard and pressing into the bed.

“Gods.” You pant, pushing to your elbows and looking down at him. “You are good at that.” You reach down and grab his shoulder to drag him up. “Kiss me.” You beg, not caring that your juices are on his mouth. “Then I want you to fuck me.”

He cannot deny you anything. Shifting onto his knees, his cock tenting his tunic as he leans down to press his lips to yours. He shifts his weight to push against you and he hisses when you reach for the hem of his tunic to pull it over his head, breaking the kiss.

“You are gorgeous.” You whisper, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. “Do you like to fuck away the heat of battle when you come back to your tent?” You ask curiously. “Do you prefer a softer touch then to counteract the violence of earlier?”

He groans, looking down at your soft hand around his cock, “it depends. Mostly it’s rough, fuck away the adrenaline.” He says and leans in to kiss along your jaw as he holds his weight over you. “Gods, you are - let me inside you.” He pleads, needing to feel your hot cunt again.

You spread your thighs wider, lifting a leg to hook onto the side of his hip. “Fuck me.” You order him, surprised that he had even asked permission.

You release his cock and he grips himself, pumping his length a few times, squeezing as he positions himself at your dripping entrance. He slowly pushes into you, wanting to feel how hot and wet you are as he gives you inch after inch of his cock.

It’s slower than last night. As if he is savoring every inch as he pushes inside you. You don’t rush him, enjoying the way his cock scrubs against your walls slowly, breaking you open and making your cunt fit him inside. Holding onto his shoulders, you encourage him with your sounds, moaning in pleasure and caressing his skin as he pauses halfway inside you.

He surges forward to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he pushes the rest of the way inside you. His cock twitches once he presses against your cervix, groaning at how you’re gripping him. His hand caresses your side as he slides his hand up to your breast.

His grip on your flesh is possessive, sure. Taking more liberties now that your husband is not directing his movements. “I’m yours now.” You murmur softly in encouragement. “Touch me. Explore me. Use me how you want.”

He knows you’re not his, can never be his, but you are in this moment, and he’s greedy. He groans, kissing along your neck, and he ducks his head down to take your nipple into his mouth. He bites down, sucking on the hardened nub, and he loves how you cry out at his touch.

You love your breasts being played with. Caracalla has a feeding obsession, wishing that you produced milk, but hopefully soon you will be able to. You wonder if Marcus would want to taste milk from your breasts.

He groans at the way your hand tangles in his hair and he starts to move inside you. “Fuck. You feel so good.” He murmurs against your sternum, turning his head to take your other nipple into his mouth.

You whimper his name, letting him rock you closer to pleasure as he suckles at your breast. “Fuck, you- I can’t describe it.” You admit breathlessly. “You are like a god.”

He chuckles, his breath washing over you, and he grabs your thigh, “you’re a goddess. Fucking - fuck. You’re Venus. I am merely here to worship you.” He declares, his voice is raspy.

It’s intimate, so intimate that it makes your eyes wet with yearning. He feels like he is speaking to your soul, even if it is just the moment. You aren’t used to such soft words and you turn your head to press kisses to his broad shoulder, not wanting him to see you choked up.

He shouldn’t feel like this, like this is right where he should be. You belong to Caracalla and he should still mourn his wife, but the way you take his cock has him groaning your name into your neck as he tries to conceal the way you’re making him feel.

Your body responds to him so easily, making every roll of his hips push you higher. The pants and moans grow steadier every time he pushes deep and the inhale of anticipation when he draws back. The rhythm is one that neither one of you questions, each pushing towards pleasure together. “Fuck.”

He wants you to cum for him, needs to hear and feel it. He grabs your other thigh, pushing it back towards your stomach so you are folded over. He groans your name, kissing along your jaw to press his lips to yours. He slides his tongue into your mouth and drops his hips to grind his pelvis against yours.

Your moan is sealed into your mouth with his lips, or maybe it’s absorbed by him. All you know is that your nails dig into his shoulders as he works himself deep into your cunt. Pressing harder and harder with every roll of his hips. “Oh gods!”

Your cry into his mouth makes him smile against your chin, rocking into you a little faster as you clamp down on his cock. His pelvis and balls are soaked with your release and he hisses when you squeeze him like a vice. “Fuck.” He grunts, eyes closing as he works you through it. He pulls out when you relax beneath him and he rolls over, your body on top of his. “Ride me, empress. I want you to take another wave of pleasure from my body.” He demands, smacking your ass.

Eyes wide, you sit up, your hands on his chest. “I’ve never- never been in charge before.” You admit, even though you would love to do such a thing. “I- help me?” You ask, grinding down on his length and wanting him inside you again.

He suppresses his chuckle at your wide, uncertain eyes, but he loves how you look on top of him and the fact that you haven’t done this before. He reaches down to grip his cock, telling you to lift up. You shift to lift up and he positions his cock so you can sink back down onto him. “Rock your hips.” He commands, wanting to help you ride him.

He feels different from this angle. Bigger. His cock pressing against different parts of your walls and you gasp in pleasure when you roll back down on him. “Gods.” Your eyes close and you lean back, enjoying the way his cock stretches you this way. “You feel even bigger. Like you are right here.” Your hand covers your stomach. “You are in my womb.”

“I will be. I will fill you until it takes.” He promises, his hands gripping your hips. He helps you start to rock and you moan, your mouth falling open and he loves the way your tits bounce as you start to get a rhythm together.

It’s so different, being in charge. If you slow down or grind down harder, Marcus groans and twitches inside you. Like he’s enjoying you using him. Your body moves eagerly, loving the sounds he makes as he digs his fingers into your hips. “Gods, your cock is made for my cunt.”

“That’s it, empress. Take what you want from me. Use me.” He demands, his hand slapping your ass while the other grips your waist. He watches you take your pleasure and he loves the way your chest heaves when you get the angle just right.

You squeal when he slaps your ass again, clenching down around him. He is so commanding, even when he is under you and yet he lets you control him. If you pulled off his cock right now, you know he would let you. It’s freedom, and you’re breathless when you collapse onto his chest to press your lips to his.

He groans, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you close, his tongue sliding against yours. He loves the way you rock back onto him and he wants you to make yourself cum. He needs you to cum again for him.

You lean into the kiss. Continuing to work yourself on his cock. Whining softly when your cunt starts to pulse until you are locking down around him with a cry into his mouth.

He groans when you cum for him again, soaking him, and he wraps his arms around you. He hisses your name and starts to thrust up into you. He can’t hold off any longer as he works himself towards your orgasm. He pushes deep into you, his cock twitching inside you as he starts to paint your walls with his cum.

You turn and press kisses to his jawline and moans softly. “That feels so good.” You murmur, resting your head against his shoulder and feel him riding out his high.

He pants as he closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. He’s never felt like this before. Like his soul is leaving his body. He caresses your spine, fingers lazily trailing along your skin as he breathes you in.

“Can I stay like this?” You ask softly, content to lay just like you are if he will let you. You reason that having his cock still stuffed inside you is even better than tilting your hips up. “Am I too heavy?”

He shakes his head, “no, not too heavy. You can stay like this.” He says softly, closing his eyes as he enjoys the weight of you on top of him. He feels tired, his eyes still closed as his cock softens inside you.

You don’t realize you fell asleep until you wake up. Still on top of him with his arms secured around you. Holding you in place as he breathes softly underneath you. He’s still sleeping, making you softly turn your head up and watch him. He’s beautiful when he sleeps and you hope that the child you have looks like him.

Marcus wakes up when he feels your stare and he offers you a soft smile, “wore me out.” His chuckles vibrate through you and he sighs, glancing over at the balcony to see the sun is setting. “The Emperor will be wanting your presence.” He says softly, “we must clean up and I’ll leave you to your peace.”

“The emperor is attending a feast tonight.” You hum, knowing that you should probably keep your distance from the general when you are not letting him fill you. “I will be presented and then expected to leave before the festivities begin.” You snort. “There will be an orgy.”

Marcus snorts, “I never understood the appeal.” He confesses, “I like connection. Even with the whores I bedded, I felt connected to them even if only for the night.” He admits before he bites his lip, “do you like your life here or do you miss your home?”

“I miss home.” You want to hope that he will not tell the emperor. He doesn’t like when you admit somewhere else might be better than Rome. “I don’t have many people who will talk to me. Or spend time with me. I’m lonely.” You sigh. “Only to be seen and to bear the emperor's children.” Your father had sent you to marry the younger brother in order to preserve peace for your realm.

Marcus sighs, “I’m sure you do. I miss my village. When I was a boy, my father was killed in war and my mother struggled to survive, to feed us. As soon as I was able, I left to join the army. I wanted to send coin back to my mother but by the time I returned home, she was dead.” He murmurs, brow furrowed because he hasn’t thought about this for so long. “I threw myself into the fight until I met my wife. She was the daughter of a noble and I never imagined I’d be able to ask for her hand, so I fought hard to rise in the ranks until I could ask her father for his blessing. When we married, I was so happy, and she became with child. Then the day of our son’s birth…she died. So did he.” He’s lost in the agony of the memory, swallowing harshly as he tightens his grip on you.

You sigh softly and reach up to caress his cheek. Even though their deaths weren’t recent, you can see the despair on his face. “My prayers to the gods that they are peaceful together in death.” You murmur softly. “You gave yourself to the army and to Rome after that.” You know what it feels like to have nothing to live for, you feel like a prisoner with a decorative chain around your neck. Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a kiss meant to comfort.

He sighs into the kiss, cupping your cheek as he kisses you softly. “And now I give myself to her Empress.” He murmurs, “I shall fetch us some wine.” He says and you nod, shifting off him and he moves off the bed so he can get you a cup of wine.

He moves easily in his own skin, unashamed by his nudity and the body he possesses. He is not as firm as he might have been in his youth, but there is a leanness to him still that makes the broadness of his shoulders and bulk of his muscles incredibly appealing. There is a strength in his frame that Caracalla could never possess. “Do you mind?” You ask softly. “Knowing that your child will be claimed by Rome?”

He pours the wine as he contemplates his answer, “I have no choice. Even if it is not my wish, I cannot say no. As for the child…I am a general. I will die in battle and I would wish for my child to be taken care of. I know this child will be taken care of to the fullest extent.” He confesses, “I can die in peace.”

It’s wise, pragmatic even, but you still feel a sudden wave of sadness thinking about this man falling in battle. “Then I must learn all I can about you.” You murmur softly, smiling when he walks back over and hands the cup to you. “So I can tell him stories about a man that he should admire.”

Marcus offers you a soft smile, appreciating you wanting to tell your child about him. “He can never know that Caracalla is not his father.” Marcus reminds you, “he must be the rightful heir. But if you wish to tell him about your friend, I am willing to share myself with you.” He offers, “but you must tell me more about his mother,”

“That sounds fair.” You smile and take a sip of the wine as you lounge in his bed, completely nude. This is the most relaxed you have been since you have been sent to Rome and you know it is because of him, “I will tell you everything.” You promise.

****

Marcus groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him again as sweat glistens on his skin. He grunts, jaw clenched as he rocks into you from behind, his hips hitting your ass so the only noise in the room is slapping skin. He's been fucking you for two months now, spending nearly every night in your bed. Caracalla has entertained himself with his whores and orgies, leaving Marcus to make you scream his name every night.

You collapse down to your elbows, face on the cool sheets as he fucks you through the spasms of pleasure. “Amor, cum for me.” You beg, losing yourself to the moment and slipping up. Calling him an endearment you have kept inside you for weeks now. You spend all day, everyday with Marcus. Falling in love with the general and wishing that you were free to be with him. You feel as if he cares for you, but that just might be the sex that he enjoys.

Your words send him over the edge and he pushes deep as he cums, painting your walls for the umpteenth time. You missed your bleed last month but no one announced a pregnancy, wanting to be sure that you are with child. Marcus is reluctant to have it declared, knowing that his duty will be done and he will be sent away back to his villa, away from you. You are unlike any woman he's ever known. Strong, smart, beautiful, and you are lonely. He senses how isolated you are so he has spent a lot of time with you, discussing his battles, your battles - different in their methods but no less weary - and he has fallen for you. You are not his though, you belong to Caracalla and if he even dared to think about you being his, he would be killed.

Whining in pleasure as he fills you, your legs slide out from under you. Bringing you down to the bed and knowing that he will follow you. You love how close the two of you are, how he loves to touch you and keep touching you. You catch your breath and start to giggle softly, feeling him twitch when your walls clench around him in the aftershocks. “I love how you feel inside me.” You hum, lazy now that your body has been used and satisfied equally.

Marcus follows you, keeping his weight off of you just in case you are with child, and he kisses along your back. “You take me so well.” He murmurs, resting his forehead on your lower neck as he hovers over you. “Do you think…do you think you are with child?”

“I should not say this, but I hope I am not.” You sigh softly. “I have become accustomed to you in my bed and between my thighs. I do not want to give such a pleasure up.”

Marcus pulls out of you and shifts to lay down beside you, “perhaps…perhaps we can continue this. Ask the Emperor if he will allow us to copulate until the babe is born. He may allow us to continue in each other’s company, saying it’s to ensure the baby’s health.” He ponders, reaching out to cup your cheek, “I do not wish to give you up just yet.”

“I do not want to give you up either.” You confess softly, leaning into his touch. “You have become important to me. I….care for you.” It’s dangerous to admit, but you have to tell him that much at least. “I will ask the emperor to continue spending time with you.” You promise.

Marcus knows the request could be easily denied but he wants to continue spending time with you. He nods, shifting to pull you into his chest, burying his nose in your neck. He's gotten lazy, not wanting to train when he could be spending time with you.

****

“Congratulations, empress.” The Hippocrates you had called to the suite beams at you as he packs away his tools and tinctures. “The emperor will be pleased and the empire will drink to the health of your child.” You cover your womb protectively and wonder how Caracalla will take the news. Even though he had demanded this, he could always have a different view now that it is done. “Thank you.”

Caracalla is beaming when you tell him the news, pleased that his plan has worked and he can tell his brother that his child will be the next in line. “If it’s a son.” Geta hums and Caracalla nods, “it will be. A strong boy.” He celebrates by holding a party and you are alone, needing “to rest and protect the baby” in your quarters when Marcus enters, his brow furrowed. “What is the occasion for the orgy?” He asks, not having heard the news yet as he was training with his men all day.

When Marcus comes in, you rush over to him, flinging yourself into his arms and pressing your lips to his. Now truly able to celebrate the baby since his father has come home. “I am carrying your child.” You whisper softly, “your child. Not Caracalla’s.” You bite your lip and reach down to cover your womb. “I do not feel as if this child is his. It belongs to the man I love.”

Marcus’s eyes widen at the news and he pulls back to look down at your hand on your stomach. “Our child.” He murmurs in awe, unable to believe it’s happened despite him spending every night in your bed. He grabs the back of your neck, dragging you to his lips, and he pulls back after several moments to declare “I love you.”

You close your eyes in relief, letting out a small sob. “I love you too, Marcus.” You whisper softly. “In another life, we would be together.” You hate that you are the empress, that you are Caracalla’s wife and not his. “I wish we could change our fate.”

Marcus nods, “me too.” He cups your cheeks and sighs, “I love you, amor.” He murmurs and kisses your forehead, “for now, let us enjoy our time together before I am sent away. Let me worship the mother of my child.” He declares, shifting to kneel down in front of you.

“I will talk to the emperor.” You hadn’t had a chance to talk with him in private before he was rushing off to plan a feast and orgy to celebrate ‘his’ virility. Reaching down, you run your fingers through his dark curls and pray to the gods your babe has those same locks.

Marcus lifts your tunic, exposing your body to his hungry gaze, and he leans in to kiss your lower stomach as you bunch your tunic up under your breasts. His hands caress the back of your legs as he kisses down to your mound, burying his nose in the curls at the apex of your thighs. “Want to taste you.” He murmurs against your skin, shifting so he can slide his tongue through your folds.

Marcus is very talented with his tongue. He has proven that over the past months and you moan in pleasure. He lifts a leg onto his shoulder and you feel so exposed. Like a god being serviced by a mere mortal. He makes everything good. “Marcus.” You pant, closing your eyes briefly before you look down at him on his knees. Wanting to memorize this moment in fear that you might not have it again.

He groans at the tangy taste of your arousal, sliding his tongue through your folds and lapping at your clit like he’s worshiping Venus. He wants to savor every second of being with you before he’s sent away. It could be any second Caracalla decides his job is complete and sends him back to his villa.

His hands hold you in place, keeping you upright while he takes his time to lick through your folds and making you moan his name loudly.

He squeezes your ass just as the doors open and Caracalla strides in, dressed in his robes and taking a moment from the party. “Ah, Acacius. You are taking care of the Empress. Well done on ensuring I have an heir.” Caracalla watches as Marcus doesn’t stop, his tongue lapping at you. “I heard that fucking during pregnancy ensures a boy. I want a son. You will remain here in the palace to make sure I have an heir.” He declares, his cock twitching at the way you moan and Marcus sucks on your clit.

Your eyes find your husband, his face filled with pride and lust. “Yes.” You agree quickly, since it’s exactly what you want. “You need a son, my emperor.” You moan. “He will keep filling me, making sure you get what you need. A strong son.” You bite your lip. “He has served his emperor well and will continue to do so.”

Marcus loves your praise, continuing to ignore Caracalla’s presence as he works you towards your orgasm. He wants to be greedy, to have you like this for as long as he can before he has to leave you. “Keep pleasuring her, Acacius.” Caracalla orders and spins in his heel, wanting to enjoy his evening at the party celebrating his heir. “Keep her cumming.” He shouts back before he shuts the door and leaves you and Marcus together.

You push his head away as soon as the door slams shut and you drop to your knees. Needing to kiss Marcus now that you know that he’s not going to be sent away.

Marcus whines into your mouth in protest but he can't deny you. He cups your cheek and deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his other hand grabs your ass to pull you against him, his cock hard under his tunic.

You kiss deeply, thoroughly. Panting into his mouth and gasping for air when you break apart. “I love you.” You moan. “I need you inside me. Here, now.”

He grabs your thighs, lifting you so you are hovering over him as he kneels on the floor. "Take my cock and put me inside you." He demands, holding your weight over his body.

You fumble with his tunic, reaching underneath and pumping his cock before you line him up with your cunt. Moaning when he slowly lowers you down on him. “Fuck, amor.” You whimper, feeling him like it’s the first time all over again. You feel like you’re more sensitive but it just might be from the emotional turmoil.

Marcus inhales deeply when you sink down on him, engulfing him in your wet, hot cunt. "Fuck." He pants against your jaw as you grip his shoulders when he's fully inside you. "I love you." He murmurs against your skin, wanting you to know how he feels.

Your arms are around his shoulders, fingers tangling into his hair as he holds you up in his thighs. “I love you.” You promise him, knowing that even if your body belongs to Caracalla, your heart belongs to him. “You are my one love. Forever.”

“Fuck. I love you. Never thought - never imagined I could ever feel like this again. Fuck, I want you to - to take all of me and cum again.” He demands, starting to work you on his cock.

You moan in agreement, letting him take charge and control your pleasure. He’s so good at it. There’s only been a handful of times you’ve not cum on his cock and that was only because he was so worked up he came too quickly. However he had made sure he had pleasured you with his fingers and tongue afterwards.

He rocks you on his cock, wanting you to soak his cock again, and he grips your thighs. “Fuck, te amo, amor.” He rasps, leaning in to press his lips to your neck, tasting the sweat and salt of your skin.

Your eyes water and you wish for a split second that Caracalla was dead and you could celebrate your love. Holding him close, your walls are already trembling around his cock as he rocks up into you. “Yes.” You moan, loving when he uses his mother’s tongue.

He is lost in the feel of you, his cock twitching inside you as he rocks into you. He imagines for a brief moment, a life where he can be with you. A life together with your child. It's not possible though. The Emperor would have him killed, could still have him killed, and it's a dangerous game that Marcus has gotten involved in.

Your toes push off on marble floors, helping you bounce on his cock and you could stay just like this with him forever. You want to stay like this. “I love you. You are my love, my amor.” You moan in his ear. “I would be Marcus Acacius’s wife.”

Your words are treason but they make his cock twitch inside you, closer to his orgasm. He groans your name, pressing his lips to yours as he rocks a little faster, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock. “You’d be mine. I’d die for you.” He promises, “mine. Mine. Mine.” He growls against your lips.

You both are vowing things to each other that would have you both killed, but you don’t care. His next thrust pushes you over the edge and you cry out into his mouth as your walls soak him in hot waves of your pleasure.

His hand finds your ass, rocking you as you shudder through your orgasm, and he groans, thrusting a few more times before he falls apart. “Fuck. Fuck. Empress.” He pants, cock throbbing as he paints your walls, his hands squeezing you closer to him.

You cling to him, both relieved that he is going to stay beside you for the foreseeable future and desperate to never have him leave you at all. “You are perfect.” You kiss his neck gently, stroking his back over his tunic that he couldn’t be bothered to take off. Both of you are still dressed, but the moment had been perfect regardless.

He snorts, knowing he’s not perfect, but he wants you and he is going to protect you and the baby until his last breath. Caracalla wants him to stay and that is the best thing he can wish for right now. “Let’s get you cleaned up and settled. You need to rest for the baby.” He reminds you and helps you shift off his cock.

Grinning, you look down at him as he climbs to his feet. “You are going to be overprotective from now on?” You ask, already aware of the answer. He will be protective, he will take care of you. You are already in love with the baby in your belly and you feel like he is the same way.

****

"Fuck, amor." Marcus groans as you rock on top of him. Your bump pressing against his stomach as he rests his back on the wall while you ride his cock. Your knees dig into the bed beneath and his hands cup your sensitive breasts. He's been in your bedchamber for the past six months and he falls more in love with you with each passing day. It will surely kill him to leave you when he is ordered to return to war, but he will go. You can never be his. Caracalla will never permit a divorce and he will be killed for treason. He must go after the babe is born.

Caracalla hadn’t spent more than an hour a week with you, carousing and spending every night having an orgy. He claims he is excited for his child, but he only brings you out to brag about his soon to be born son before he leaves you in Marcus’s care. You are scared, because you know how precarious a position you are in. But you can only survive.

"That's it. Take what you want from me. It's yours. I'm yours." He vows, his dark eyes watching you as you bounce on his cock. Your belly is round and heavy with his child. It's something he never imagined having again after he lost his wife. He's addicted to you and he doesn't know how he's going to leave after the baby is born.

“Marcus.” You moan, leaning back and knowing that he will make sure you are comfortable and safe. “My general, my warrior.” You have been thinking about something dangerous, but you can’t think about it when he’s deep inside you. “I love you.”

He caresses your hips, leaning in to take a sensitive nipple between his lips, and he suckles lightly. He has gotten too comfortable being away from the battles the Emperors send him into, but right now, he doesn’t want to die like that. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you at this moment, no one else but you and him. His hand slides across your hip to find your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push you over the edge.

Carrying his baby has made you so sensitive to his touch that it only takes a few strokes of his thumb before you cry out. Your body shaking and your hips grinding down while your cunt locks down around his cock and your juices coat him.

He hisses your name as you clamp down around him, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments as he lets you ride your high, until he’s squeezing your hips and thrusting up into you.

“Cum for me.” You beg softly, burying your face into the side of his neck so you can breathe him in. “I want to feel you inside me. Carry you with me even more.”

He groans, rocking up into you with a hiss as he gets closer to his orgasm. “Fuck. Gonna - fuck. Shit. Empress.” He moans your name as he pushes deep inside your pulsing cunt and he falls apart, painting your walls with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut.

You hum quietly, stroking his neck as he catches his breath. Feeling the baby move slightly and biting your lip. “We need to use your favor in the Senate.” You lean close and whisper the treasonous words into his ear. “Stage a coup. Revolt.” You pull back and look into his eyes seriously. “Kill the emperors.”

Marcus inhales sharply, his head turning so he can look into your eyes to see if you are testing him or if you’re serious. When he sees your eyes, he knows you’re serious and he swallows harshly, “it won’t be easy. Trying to convince the senate without the emperors finding out.” He admits quietly, “and they could find out and kill me.”

“Set the meetings.” You had thought long and hard about it. “I will convince them, I will do the talking. If our plot is found out, Caracalla could not immediately put me to death. Geta would discover the child is not truly his and he will never allow that.” You caress his cheek. “I wish to have you installed to rule as proctor for ‘his’ child.” You know the senate could never find out that the child isn’t Caracalla’s but no one but you and Marcus know this truth besides your husband.

Marcus caresses your spine, knowing that you could risk everything you’ve created, your life, your child, it’s all on the line. “Amor…” He murmurs and you cup his cheek, “I will never be allowed to be my own person. I will never be allowed to love you freely unless you do this.” You tell him and he nods, swallowing harshly, “I’ll get it organized.” He promises, “we will see it done.”

“Thank you, my love.” You lean in and press your lips to his. “I fear for our child raised under Caracalla’s direction.” Even if you are the mother, the fact that the baby would be proclaimed the emperor’s heir would mean he would be guided by your childish and evil husband. “I want him to grow up to be like his father.”

Marcus caresses your cheek, knowing there is no choice. If he looks back, he knows that he had to make this choice at some point. He never truly wanted to let you or his child go. The next morning, he dresses for court and decides to start with the hardest senator to convince, Brutus. A man who struggled to watch the Emperors rule but had loyalty to Rome. Marcus approaches him under the guise of talk of war, and Brutus nods, wandering off into a quiet corner of the senate to speak. “I fear we cannot speak in these quarters. Come to my villa, we can speak freely.” Marcus says and Brutus nods, unaware that you will be meeting with the men.

You pace, nervous about what you should say, would say. This is the most dangerous undertaking you have ever attempted. Not even trying to run away from your fate was as dangerous as this. You are trying to change your fate. The senators could be allies, or they could stab you in the back.

Brutus enters the room with Marcus, his head held high but his eyes widen when he sees the Empress standing there, her bump protruding beneath her tunic. “Empress.” He greets you, bowing his head.

“Brutus.” You greet him cautiously, but with a gracious smile on your face as you rub the swell of your stomach, bringing his eyes down to the baby. You will leverage the child in your womb. For your freedom, and perhaps Rome’s as well. “I trust you are well?” You ask kindly. “Please sit. The wine has been especially good lately.” It’s been watered down for your use, but you nod to Marcus to pour the senator a cup. “I hope you do not mind the subterfuge, I needed to speak with you and did not wish to summon you myself.”

Marcus pours the cup of wine and hands it to Brutus who nods, thanking Marcus, before his attention turns back to you. "I trust you are well, that the future Emperor is well?" He asks, and you nod in response, "he is lively. Due any day now." You declare and Marcus clears his throat, "the heir is the reason why we called you here.”

You wait for Brutus to turn back to you curiously, setting his cup down. You take a deep breath and caress your stomach. “It is no secret that unrest in Rome is at an all time high.” You murmur softly. “People are starving and while General Acacious has not been sent off on another expensive and bloody campaign, he will be soon.” You pause and sigh. “I fear for the future of Rome, of my son’s legacy that he will inherit.”

Brutus looks at Marcus who stands there, spine straight and steely eyed as your treasonous words are aired. Brutus could go tell the Emperors and you would be killed as soon as the babe is born, Marcus would be hanged the next day. However, Brutus doesn't run off. He nods, setting his cup down, "it is true that the empire is on a precipice. It could be the fall of Rome or her glory continues. The Emperors are driven by lust and greed. Their actions are selfish and make the lowest Roman anxious for change. We will fall if we allow the Emperors to continue down this path."

“There is another solution.” You suggest, rubbing your stomach again. “In my belly lies the next emperor of Rome. Ready to be guided by wise and cautious men.” Your eyes slide over to Marcus briefly. “Men who know the true cost of war and would be able to teach our emperor those lessons without it harming Rome’s people.” You look back at Brutus. “Men such as our senators, you, nurturing a leader that will take Rome to an even greater height.”

Brutus frowns, looking over at Marcus, knowing that the man who will assist in raising the young Emperor will be him. "And how would we remove our problem?" Brutus asks, eyebrows raised. 

"I say we speak to the senators...establish a coup. My husband and brother-in-law would never see it coming." You say and Brutus takes a gulp of his wine before he says, "I will start speaking to the senators tomorrow."

“I hope that we can count on your discretion.” You add, pushing out of your seat and moving over to the senator. “We are on the cusp of change.” You murmur softly. “If it is the ruin of Rome or the brightness of her future, I leave that to your hands.”

Brutus nods, "if this gets out, it will be death for us all. We won't risk it." The senator promises and he looks over at Marcus, "you shall be the one who the senate turns to?" He asks and Marcus nods, making Brutus smile. "very well. I will do what needs to be done."

You nod to the senator when he leaves, Marcus walking out with him and you start to pace. Wondering if you have just signed your death papers or if you will be successful.

****

The senate is abuzz with chatter until Caracalla and Geta enter the chamber. The senators stand straighter and Marcus stands there, dressed in his official robes with the golden laurel wreath shining. He looks regal and the Emperors slosh wine across the marble floor as they greet the senators with wide grins. Brutus looks over at his fellow senators, his hand resting on his dagger. "Emperors." He greets them, walking towards them, and his eyes meet Marcus's for a moment. "The senate and I have been in discussions about the future of Rome." He declares and Geta hums, "and what a wonderful future it will be." 

Marcus sighs, "we aren't so sure. Romans are starving, you tax them more and more every day to fund your wars and your lavish lifestyle." Marcus declares and Caracalla spins around, his eyes narrowed at the accusations, "you dare to spit these treasonous words?" He demands and Marcus shakes his head, "you are draining Rome dry. Her empire will be no more." He says louder and the senators nod while Brutus steps forward, "your leadership has driven Rome to the edge and we want to save our empire before it falls." Brutus declares and he steps up behind Geta while Marcus moves towards Caracalla. It happens in a flash, the daggers pulled out and embedded in the lower backs of the Emperors who cry out, cups of wine falling to the floor. The other senators rush forward, daggers in their hands as they each take a turn stabbing the emperors until blood runs along the marbled floors.

Your cry from your chamber is loud and pained, servants rushing and whispering through the halls. The Hippocrates has been summoned and the labor seems to be quick. The new heir to the throne of Rome is insistent on being born today. It takes your mind off of your worries. Your waters had broken almost as soon as Marcus had left to join the senators. You know that they had planned to kill your husband and his brother today, but the pains had taken over all thoughts so you had not been able to fret over the hours as they passed. 

Blood covers the floor of the senate as Caracalla and Geta lay dead, blood pouring from their mouths. It turns out they betrayed a lot of senators, made promises they couldn’t keep. The senators didn’t take a lot of convincing to remove them from power. “It is done.” Brutus declares, “a new emperor shall be born any moment but we need someone in the interim. An emperor who will represent us, save Rome and her people from ruin. I nominate General Marcus Acacius.” Brutus declares and Marcus’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect to be nominated, feeling that Brutus would want to take control. “I second that nomination.” Drusus announces and one by one, the senate declares Marcus to be the next emperor. The General is speechless, knowing he could easily be taken down like Caracalla and Geta, but this means he gets to have you. “I accept. I will serve as Emperor for all, we will make Rome prosperous and safe.” He promises as a servant rushes in to announce, “the empress is in labor.” Marcus’s eyes widen and he rushes from the senate, running through the marbled halls in his mission to get to you. He doesn’t care that men shouldn’t be in the birthing room as he pushes through and stumbles to your bedside. “Amor. I’m here, I’m here.” He promises, blood still on his hands as he reaches for yours.

“Is it done?” You gasp out, scared for a brief moment that Marcus had been injured, but he would not have been able to come to your side if the plot had been foiled. “It is.” He murmurs, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. You don’t even care that the servants can see, that the rumors will spread across Rome of your relationship with the General. He ignores the Hippocrates’s complaints about him being there as another pain rips through you and you scream, fingers crushing his own hand until the pain passes and you are panting for air. Your child is safe. Boy or girl, they will be free of your husband’s influence. “We need-” you gasp. “A ruler until the baby is older.” 

"The senate has voted. They have chosen me to be Emperor until the child is old enough." He confesses, "I did not want to become Emperor but I want to save Rome and her people from destitution." He admits just as another pain causes you to grip his hand.

Your hiss is low and almost animalistic, the pains feeling like you are being ripped in two, but you know that it is natural. Surprised that the senate had voted for Marcus, you can’t help but be pleased by that outcome. It would ensure that you do not have to be apart. He will have a large role in raising your child together. “The babe is coming.” The Hippocrates tells you from between your legs, frowning at Marcus as he looks down to see the head. “You must push, empress. As hard as you can.”

Marcus is suddenly taken back to the moment when his wife was laboring and after the silence that lingered in the air when the boy was born sleeping, he remembers his wife's cry of agony until she started convulsing. His grip on your hand tightens as his heart pounds, terrified that he is going to lose you in the same way.

Gritting your teeth, nodding as you sit up and start to scream as you bear down as hard as you can. Sweat is pouring off of you and for a moment, you want to give up and tell them that you cannot do it. The pressure on your hand makes you look up. Seeing the horror on Marcus’s face, you know that he is scared for you. For the baby. Closing your eyes, you push again, feeling the pressure suddenly release and hearing the Hippocrates exclaim happily, “a boy!”

Marcus is shaking when he hears the babe cry out and he knows he's alive. He looks at you, wanting to see if you are okay as the hippocrates cradles the crying baby who has a mop of black hair.

You hear the hushed whispers, but you don’t care. You don’t care if all of Rome knows that the baby that will one day be Emperor is Marcus’s. The Hippocrates cleans the baby up while the servants start to massage your stomach, making you wince in pain but it’s all forgotten when the babe is placed into your arms. Making you cry happy tears as you kiss his head softly.

Marcus stares down at the babe in your arms, his cries echoing in the room, and Marcus falls instantly in love. His son. He will never allow harm to come to the boy, and he will claim him as his. He is Emperor now, he can do as he wishes in regards to his personal life. He wishes to marry you and claim the child as his. “I love you.” Marcus declares, uncaring of anyone else in the room, and he leans in to kiss the forehead of the crying baby. “My son.” He whispers, wanting him to know how much he already adores him.

You beam as you look at Marcus and your son. The future is far brighter now that your love has done the impossible. He and the senate have toppled the emperors and restored order without needless bloodshed. “I love you too.” You promise, leaning forward and kissing him boldly. “Both of us do, my emperor.”

****

Marcus wraps his arm around your waist, the golden laurel on his head matches yours as you stand on the balcony. “Do you, Maximis Acacius, vow to dedicate your life to the Roman Empire and her people?” Brutus asks, his hair now greying like Marcus’s. “I do.” Maximus vows, his head nodding. Marcus is proud of his son who he has trained to be the emperor. He claimed him as his son after he was sworn in as emperor and the empire celebrated having a new emperor with a son to take over. Since that day, you and Marcus have had 3 more children who stand beside you, proud of their brother who is taking his rightful place.

You look out over the crowd, a smile on your face bright and proud. You have been incredibly lucky, Marcus has been a wonderful emperor. Rome has flourished under his care and now he willingly turns the reins over to Maximus like he had planned when he was born. “I love you.” You murmur as the crowd roars in celebration of the new emperor.

Marcus turns to look at you, older but no less beautiful. You are his world - you and the children. He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “I love you.” He promises, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. His entire world has changed thanks to Caracalla’s mad idea to have another man conceive the heir to Rome. In the end, Marcus is the one who won with his son as emperor and the empress as his uxor.

[strawbbzombwie]

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!!💖💖

[floatyflowers]

Yandere First Husband Emperor Geta x Wife Reader Empress Lovestruck/Heartbroken x Yandere Second Husband Emperor Caracalla.

(I was so happy when I saw your requests were open! You're my favorite creator, I love all your works 🤭) (I love all things historical and I really fell in love with the trailer for Gladiator II and I'm looking forward to its release)

You are the wife of two emperors.

That's right, you are the wife of the emperor Geta and his brother, emperor Caracalla.

How did that happen?

Well, at first, you got married to Geta before the death of emperor Septimius Severus, but after his death, the two brothers are to share the empire.

And Caracalla had his eyes on you and wished to become your second husband, ignoring the Roman traditions.

You and their mother, Julia Domna, objected to this insane idea.

Julia Domna objected because it would be a scandal.

While you objected, because you are in love with your husband Geta and don't want to be with another man especially if that man is Caracalla.

However, your husband, Geta, agreed.

So, you got wed to Caracalla despite being already one month pregnant.

Your husband already knows, and also informed Caracalla.

"The child shall be mine"

Geta wanted to argue that he is the biological father but Caracalla shut him down.

"We both share the empire, and your wife, there is nothing wrong in sharing the baby too"

Realising the insanity of the situation, you decided to escape this madness, feeling heartbroken at how Geta is going along with all of that as if it is normal.

Your escape plan failed horribly, and you found yourself facing a betrayed looking Geta.

You stare at Geta in fear as he steps towards you slowly.

"Why have you betrayed me? when I was only trying to be the best husband for you."

"I love you from all my heart, but I cannot keep quiet anymore, I do not love Caracalla-"

Suddenly, you feel a hand grabbing your neck from behind, tightening its hold on it.

"Now now, brother, there is no need to stress our dear wife especially since she is pregnant with our child."

Your guts twist with disgust at the possessive pronoun 'our' used to state your relationship with the two emperors.

"But she needs to be punished" Geta argues angrily.

Caracalla walks up from behind you to stand beside his younger brother.

His eyes scans up your shaking body with a devious smirk.

"There are a lot of interesting ways to punish her without violence and she will be doing her duty as our wife at the same time"

[storiesforallfandoms]

betrothed ~ emperor geta;gladiator ii

word count: 3607

request?: no

description: in which her parents want to arrange a marriage with one of the two emperor brothers, so she is taken to meet them and is surprised when she gets along so well with the younger brother

pairing: emperor geta x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, period typical misogyny/views of women, arranged marriage, historical inaccuracies, definitely going to be an inaccurate depiction of geta because i know that man is going to be a vile villain but y'know

masterlist (one, two, three)

You followed your parents through the halls of the palace. They were walking with their heads high, proud, meanwhile you were trailing behind them, cowering. You had been told just moments before your arrival that your parents intended to marry you off to one of the emperors; brothers Geta and Caracalla. They had offered you up to the brothers for marriage without your knowledge, and now they were bringing you to meet them so one of them could choose to marry you.

You knew eventually your parents would arrange for you to wed. It was an expectation from the moment you started bleeding, meaning you were able to carry children. There were no guarantees you would like your husband to be. That's not how marriage worked. But you never expected to be married off to a man you were terrified of.

Besides the fact that Geta and Caracalla were co-emperors of the entire Roman Empire, you had heard that they were both violent and terrible men. There was no better option in this betrothal, only fear.

Your parents stood before the two emperors. They both already looked bored by the whole affair. You tried not to shrink back further under their glares. Your parents bowed, and you quickly followed as not to be scrutinized further.

"Your majesties," your father spoke. "We present to you our daughter, (Y/N)."

Your mother nudged you forward. You stumbled to the fore front, all attention now on you. You awkwardly bowed again, murmuring, "Your majesties."

"This is who you expect us to marry?" Caracalla sneered. "I've seen whores who have looked prettier. More experienced, too."

Caracalla smirked at his younger brother, but Geta was still staring at you, studying you. You couldn't stop trembling under his intense gaze. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother clenching her jaw. You weren't sure if she was upset over Caracalla's insult, or over your continued awkwardness.

The eldest brother sighed and rose from his seat. "She is yours, brother. I feel no need to fight you over her when I can find myself a better wife."

He left without another word, while Geta was still looking at you. He finally spoke to ask one of his servants to take you to your room. You turned back to your parents, wanting nothing more than for them to change their mind and take you away. Of course they couldn't even if they wanted to. They just smiled at you and allowed themselves to be escorted away by another servant.

You followed the young lady with you to a room that was set to be yours. It was a large room, filled with everything you could ask for. Under different circumstances, you would be enthralled by this new room, but all you could think about was your imminent future. Would you still be in this room after you and Geta were wed? Or would you have to move to his room?

The thought of having to share a bed with him made you feel faint.

You heard someone enter the room as the servant started to leave. You turned to find Geta, stood tall and broad in the doorway. The servant bowed, but Geta's attention was solely on you. He moved from the doorway and motioned for her to leave. Suddenly, you were alone with him.

You remembered yourself and moved to bow. Geta held up a hand. "No need for that. We are to be wed soon, which means you will be the Empress of Rome."

You nodded, but the reminder of your future title left you unable to speak as you were focusing on trying to stay upright.

His eyes were raking over you again. "You are a quiet one."

"I-I am sorry, your majesty," you said, your voice soft and quiet. It seemed to amuse Geta.

"We will change that. My wife will not be seen as cowardly and weak." You merely nodded again. Geta took a step towards you and you tried not to flinch. He stopped and something seemed to soften in his face. "I know what is expected of us once we are wed, but I want you to know that I will not touch you without your consent. You can continue to stay in this room as long as you please. I just ask you to accompany me when I call upon you. Is that agreeable?"

You found your voice finally to say, "Y-Yes."

He nodded, then left without another word. Once you were sure you were alone, you let yourself cry.

~~~~~~

You and Geta were married days later. It was a beautiful wedding, and your parents were allowed to be in attendance. You smiled and pretended to be happy in front of the audience, but in private you were still crying over the whole arrangement.

Geta kept his word; he did not touch you or force you into his room without your consent. He kissed you once on your wedding day, but that was the extent of it. And because he kept to his word, you kept to yours and joined Geta whenever he called on you. It was mainly for official events - meetings, tournaments, and the like - where he needed his wife to be present.

The one time he had asked for your presence for something unofficial was by accident.

You had taken to exploring the palace on your off time. It was so large that even after almost a month of being there, you were still finding new areas to see. You weren't allowed out of the palace on your own as Geta said it was too dangerous, but there were plenty of days when you wished you could see the grounds, and not just to see the gladiator tournaments.

You were wandering the halls on your own when you suddenly ran into Geta. You didn't expect to see him as you thought he was having a meeting with his brother and the general. You also didn't expect the smile that he gave you when he saw you.

"Hello, my darling," he said.

"Geta," you said, stopping yourself before you instinctively bowed. "I did not expect to see you so soon."

"My meeting was cut short." Geta sighed and shook his head. "My brother has quite the temper sometimes. It is why I usually handle these type of things."

You couldn't help the look on your face in response to his comment. To your further surprise, he laughed.

"I know, I do not seem much better. But I promise you when you have seen me lose my temper, it is mostly warranted. Caracalla will lose his temper because he is not being spoken to directly, even though there were several of us there."

When he stepped towards you, you didn't back away the way you would have when you first met him. He offered an arm to you and asked, "Will you allow me to accompany you, my darling?"

You felt you couldn't say no since you both had an agreement, but you also felt a surprising desire to have him accompany you. So, you took his arm, and he started to walk with you.

"How would you like to see the grounds?" he asked.

"I thought it was too dangerous."

"Only if you go on your own. We cannot risk our enemies finding the Empress on her own. They could harm you, take you, or kill you."

You tensed beside him. You were still getting used to how dangerous this new role you had was.

He noticed your tenseness and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I will not let anything happen to you. Trust me, my darling. You are safe with me."

And you believed him. Had he not been keeping that promise, even before making it? He had made sure you didn't leave the palace unsupervised, he was always by your side during public events. This may not have been a love marriage, but it was clear you both had respect for one another.

Seeing the outside of the palace for something other an a gladiator fight was lovely. The view - which you got from your room anyways, but this was different - was breathtaking. You often forgot how beautiful Rome was. It was easy to see so much of the land since the palace was placed higher above everyone else (you tried not to think about the implications of that).

"Do you ever leave the palace?" you asked him. "Besides for your official meetings and such?"

"Not usually," he responded. "It is too dangerous for me to go out on my own, and what would the point of going out with my guards be? I could not truly enjoy being out."

"That sounds awful," you commented, mainly to yourself. This may be a new role and new rules for you, but this was something Geta had been putting up with his entire life. He was the son of a previous Emperor, he was raised in this exact palace. He was probably under a watchful eye his entire life, very rarely ever getting moments alone.

He seemed amused by your comment, though. "Would you want to leave the palace? Obviously, as I said, we cannot leave alone, but we could always go for a walk with the guards."

You simply looked up at him. You were astonished by how nice he was being. Granted, you hadn't spent much time with Geta away from the watchful eyes of his armies or his people, but you had heard plenty about Geta before meeting and marrying him. Everyone called him and his brother ruthless and vile men. You had met plenty of people who would spit at the ground at just the mention of their names, and others who would curse upon them. Caracalla certainly lived up to his reputation, but so far, Geta only did when he had an audience.

"Is there something the matter?" he asked.

"I...am surprised by you," you admitted.

"Surprised by me? What have I done to surprise you?"

"You are...kind."

Any other person would probably be offended by the fact that being kind was a surprise. But Geta was well aware of the reputation he and his brother had, so he completely understood why you were shocked to learn that he had a kinder side to him.

He stopped walking and turned to face you. He had taken your hands in his and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. "Being in such high power, there is a certain image you must uphold so that you do not appear weak to your enemies. That is what our father told us when we were young. He taught us to be ruthless so that others knew not to fuck with us or our families. Caracalla took to that more than I did. He has a temper, he enjoys violence, although he would never put himself on the front lines during a war, and he believes he has the right to anything and everything he wants because he is an Emperor. He sometimes forgets that that is a title he shares with me."

"Everyone says you are both the same," you pointed out.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "All for show, my darling. If I was to show myself as being weaker than my brother, then I would be a target."

Geta moved an inch closer to you. You found yourself inhaling sharply at his sudden closeness, but not in fear as you may have once done.

"It is why I will be forever grateful that Caracalla did not want to marry you," he said. "From the moment you were brought before us, I could tell that you were not like he is; not like how I pretend to be. If Caracalla had wed you, he would not have been as...kind to you as I have been."

You knew what he meant, and the thought of it made you shudder.

"I was willing to take him in combat to marry you if I had to," Geta admitted. "Which I knew he would turn down anyways because, like I said, he is not one to fight his own battles. But I would not doubt him to try so that he could be the one to wed and have an heir first."

It was a lot to take in. You had come into this marriage thinking you knew everything about Geta, but you were learning just how wrong you were to think that. And you were certainly more than happy to be wrong.

You were suddenly much more aware of his closeness to you and the feeling of his hands on yours. It made your heart beat a little faster, and your body light on fire. You wondered if he felt it too, whatever "it" was.

"Thank you," you said, your voice so soft it was almost a whisper. You weren't sure what you were thanking him for; for being honest? For being kind? For protecting you?

Either way, he did not question it. He merely smiled down at you and said, "You are welcome, my darling."

~~~~~~

The next time you were called upon was a few days later for another gladiator tournament. Geta and Caracalla had acquired a new gladiator (Geta had told you not to question how this "acquiring" happened, and you were more than happy to follow his word), and it seemed they wanted to put him to the test immediately. Caracalla was practically giddy with excitement over it, while Geta remained as composed as he could.

You had followed them to their perch - high above the arena and closed off to anyone who was not one of the Emperors or their people. There were two seats for both Emperors, and both were big enough to seat two people. You took your place next to Geta, the side of your body pressing against his as you sat. The small contact alone made your body tingle, but now was not the time to get lost in these new feelings. You had an audience, and in front of an audience there was an image to uphold. You had come to learn very quickly how to act when you were in front of others - head held high, stone faced, follow whatever Geta said to you.

The crowd below you were cheering in excitement. Caracalla was already on the edge of his seat, impatient for the fighting to begin. You, on the other hand, were just waiting for the moment it ended.

You hated the gladiator fights. You didn't like the violence, and almost every time you had come since marrying Geta, they had ended in death. You often had nightmares about what you had seen inside the coliseum.

The crowd roared as the gates opened and the new gladiator entered. Across from him, another gate opened and three other men - past winners of these tournaments - stepped out.

You gasped. "Three against one?"

"Three winners," Caracalla said. "We must see how well our new fighter can do."

"That is hardly fair!"

"Nothing is fair in combat." He had a shit eating grin on his face, and you wished nothing more than to punch him directly in that grin of his.

But, since you couldn't do that, you did the next best thing and retorted, "What do you know of combat?"

Your words seemed to do enough as Caracalla's painted white face started to turn pink with anger. Geta caught your eye and smirked at you, making you feel even more proud of yourself.

The fighting started, and it was quite clear that the new gladiator could hold his own. He took down the first of the three with no problem, taking his weapon and incapacitating him within seconds. The second man put up more of a fight, but eventually he went down as well. The third was smarter. He had been waiting for his chance to go one on one with the new gladiator, saving his strength and his energy. And once it was just the two of them, the third man struck with a vigor.

You gasped as the new gladiator was wounded, blood spraying from a gash on his leg. Geta reached over to take your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. It did little to reassure you as your eyes stayed glued to what was happening below. The new gladiator had fell to his knees, but was still fighting the best he could. The third man was stood over him, sword in hand. It was clear to both of them, as well as the entire audience, who the winner was. They were just waiting for the say.

Geta stood from his seat, letting go of your hand. He looked over at his brother, who was nearly falling out of his chair with excitement. But when he looked to you, he saw a completely different reaction. You tried to rarely show emotion at these battles, but you had found yourself with tears in your eyes over the unfair odds against the new gladiator. He was about to lose his life because Caracalla and the other men involved with creating these tournaments did not care to play fair.

Seeing your upset seemed to soften Geta. He turned back to the two men who were waiting below and held out a fist.

The audience went silent as Geta flipped his thumb upward, signaling for the new man to be spared.

There was a moment, as if waiting to make sure Geta was serious, before the third man sheathed his sword. The new gladiator hunched over, his leg still bleeding from his wound. Someone would come and get him and patch him up, you were sure, but neither of you stuck around long enough to see. Geta had turned back to you almost immediately and extended a hand to you. He helped you up from your seat, then looped an arm through yours to guide you back inside.

"You spared him," you said, still in disbelief.

"You did not want to see him die," he responded, as if it were common sense.

"But...every other time..."

"Every other time has been a fair fight. As you said, it was unfair for him to be up against three previous victors. He will be treated, and should he survive from the wound on his leg, he will continue to train so that he can fight again. This time, more fairly."

You couldn't believe what he was saying. He had spared a man for you. Because you said the odds were unfair, because seeing this man die would've upset you too much.

He did this for you.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by Caracalla calling, "You have gone soft, brother!"

The two of you turned to see Geta's brother storming towards you. His face was now completely red with anger as he pointed at his brother. "You have made a mockery of us."

"I hardly think sparing one man's life makes anyone think any differently of us," Geta scoffed.

"It makes us look weak! It will make them all think that we are too weak to call for the death of another man."

"It was an unfair fight, brother. I was not going to let our new gladiator lose when the odds were against him in such an unfair way."

Caracalla's eyes flickered to you for a moment. You had to stop yourself from shrinking behind Geta.

"So she is the problem then?" Caracalla said. "This bitch has made you soft."

Before you could register what was happening, Geta had Caracalla up against a wall with a dagger to his brother's throat. The guards were watching, unsure what they were meant to do.

"Do not speak of my wife that way ever again," Geta hissed. "If I ever hear of you demeaning her, or me, again, I will make sure it is you who ends up in the arena next. Do I make myself clear, brother?"

Caracalla nodded quickly. You thought you could see tears briming his lash line, but you weren't completely sure. When Geta let him go, he crumbled to the floor. His guards were quick to surround him, while yours and Geta's followed the two of you. Geta's dagger was sheathed and his hand was in yours again in a matter of seconds.

"Was that smart?" you asked him. "Could he use that against you at all?"

"I do not care what he intends to do about my threat," Geta muttered. "I will not have him insulting my wife like that, especially not to my face."

You stopped walking, pulling Geta to a halt. He looked back at you, confused. You pulled him to you and pressed your lips against his. He seemed surprised, but he certainly wasn't about to push you off of him. You had known for a while that the feeling growing within you was love, but now you were finally realizing that Geta truly did feel the same way for you. He was willing to spare a man's life, and to threaten his brother's, in your honor. That was so much more than just a mutual respect.

You pulled away first, albeit reluctantly, to tell him, "I wish to stay with you in your room tonight. And maybe...for the foreseeable future, if you will have me."

Geta's face lit up. He gently cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for another gentle kiss. "Of course, my darling. I wish to have you for as long as you wish to be with me."

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞? || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚

part one: here || part two; i’ve been the archer

summary_ after returning from Egypt, you are set to marry your half brother Geta. When you fall in love with General Marcus Acaius, your brother tries everything to prevent you from slipping away from him.

warnings_CRINGE, age gap!, semi incest (do not romanticize irl) reader x Geta, drama, angst, VERY quick love confessions, implied SMUT +18

NOTES_ who’s afraid of little old me?, I just wished there were gallows in Ancient Rome, listen to my awful playlist for Marcus and the classic I have for Pedro bb.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist + Marcus’s playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

If there was something you’d never miss… were the carmine sunsets. Those lasted more than usual. That kept the beginning of the night warm and made you the silent promise of another good day by the following morning.

It had been easy for your father to send you away as soon as your mother quit their marriage. Your brother was a big inconvenience and a hidden mistake that shattered your little wealthy family. Under the cautious look of the Roman Senate, your parents were still bonded in a strong marriage. But the truth was that your father never truly loved the woman who gave birth to you. Which led to your mother leaving for Egypt, a Roman Province. Soon after her departure, you were sent to Alexandria too.

Each day was a boost to your status. Learning a vast variety of languages and dialects, learning different types of dances, being able to handle weapons, and gaining control over the Egyptian cities, to help your powerful father; The Emperor.

You barely missed Rome. Your mother was a cold Empress that loosened all the knots your father could have tightened around you. Growing up used to the Egyptian parties, drinking the finest beer and bread. Taking occasional lovers since virginity was not a necessity for marriage in Egyptian society. One of those lovers specifically, was a tall warrior with sun-kissed bronze skin that transformed you into a woman in every aspect you couldn’t discover by yourself. It was a shame when he died after a bad injury during war.

In the present, being in your first years as a young woman, things were likely to change, and you were very aware of it. That didn’t stop you from having the time of your life in the vivid city of Alexandria. With very few friends, a dead lover, and a dream.

Every night you savored those carmine sunsets to pray to Venus. Perhaps your dream of finding a true love hadn’t happened yet due to praying to her instead to Hathor; the god of love in Egyptian territory. Nevertheless, you intended to marry a man who was ridiculously, recklessly, and borderline obsessed with you. You wanted to live the broken dream of your mother.

Until desires were abruptly paused one night. When you received a letter from your father.

“A letter from the Emperor. It is the wish of your father to have you back in Rome” Your walls crumbled into pieces. The face of shock was splashed all across your face as you listened to your mother.

“What motivated his decision?”

“I can assure you, I don’t know, my child,” your mother says vaguely, tending his favorite flowers inside the palace.

“Do not lie to me, mother” she sighs and suddenly, she starts crying. You don’t know what to do, but the sight unsettles you.

“He wants you to marry Geta…” your eyes get impossibly wide open, and you gasp in shock.

“My brother?” your mother nods. You pace back and forth, wondering why and how could your father come to that conclusion.

Although you were used to attending weddings in Egypt that came from a mother marrying her son, to a brother marrying his sister, it was… awkward. This was the boy that destroyed your family, the boy that would take half of your rights as heir was meant to be your husband and father of your children.

The mere thought scares you.

“Will you accompany me?” It’s the first thing you come up with.

“I must stay here since Egypt won’t have you now” You frown at her words. But your throat tightens, defying to produce tears that quickly threaten to spill everywhere.

“Be strong, remember everything I’ve taught you. No men will defy the tenacity of the emperor’s daughter.” you nod, your eyes prickling with fear that explodes in your chest.

“And in between, find the love I couldn’t keep, no matter what, y/n…”

“I’m seeing you again, Right, mother?” she nods, giving you a cold hug.

“I’ll always be here…”

For the first time, the carmine sunset does not bring you peace. Your mind is edging towards collapse as you approach Rome. As the light of the light leaves, you question everything. So many questions and nothing of time.

…

There were no shattered crystals after dinner as you expected. Your brother Geta welcomed you in Rome with excitement and it confused you even more. He gave you a short and personal tour of his newest garden and prepared the finest banquet made by all of the servants.

Geta is a sole copy of your father. Same mannerisms and style. Only behind his attentive look, you were aware of the sadistic man who talked to you with respect.

“Where is Father?” you ask him, sipping at your wine.

“An important meeting surged. He’ll join us tomorrow, we are preparing vast festivities”

“Festivities for what?” he smiles, you don’t like how compassionate and polite he’s being.

“Our marriage, soror” The heavy makeup on his face does everything to hide the truth of the narcissistic man he is.

You could swear he hated you because your mother was the sovereign empress and you the rightful heir. Your father just happened to have two wives and two kids at the same time.

And despite everything, you didn’t hate your brother. You despised her mother for drawing your own apart from your father. For convincing him to send you away from your solemn fair future. For transforming your brother into some incompetent who seemed to have a hunger for chaos and madness.

“I must thank you, for welcoming me… despite our background differences” It takes him aback. Geta expected a disheveled girl, a rebellious female who followed the ways of the savages; the Egyptians. But he encountered a bright and marvelous sister who tried to act with peace after being so far from home for so long.

“I wished we could’ve grown together, like a united family” you admit coldly, avoiding the whole marriage issue.

“We will be a family, y/n. I’ll make sure of that” he says hiding his lips in his cup of wine and it sends shivers running down your spine.

Geta sees how you stand up and politely push forward the chair you were seated in; excellent manners.

“As a tradition of mine, I’ll see the sunset and pray before going to rest. Please excuse me….” your brother nods, still processing your words as you leave the imposing place where you were born. You desperately need fresh air.

Near there’s a meadow with empty spaces. It’s just a piece of land that soon would probably serve to build another coliseum.

One thing is noticeable. Sunsets in Rome aren’t carmine… they are mauve. And for some reason, you can’t feel peace.

But you hold tight to your dream. Your happiness is what you’ve prioritized ever since a teenager.

That’s why you hadn’t failed a day to pray to Venus.

Venus, hear me, please. You whose care, throughout all the centuries, the unions of men and their lovers have been placed, what, I pray, have I come to merit? Release me from this uncertainty, gift me a lover, who will warm my heart for eternity. Venus, save me from the hells of my ancestries.

Someone touches your naked shoulder, it makes you gasp in horror.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” someone says. When you turn around, you are facing a man who’s incredibly taller and broader than you. He’s significantly older than you, but he’s graceful. The second he takes to appreciate the sunset as well is your chance to study his profile. Gorgeous classical profile.

“Excuse me, but… Who are you?” you ask, moving aside, leaving his hand that rested on your shoulder in the air. He noticed it.

“General Marcus Acaius… I wondered why a woman was here all alone” you know him. He’s the most successful general your father ever had. He was a concise warrior, even considered a killer.

Somehow, you couldn’t help but find some sweetness in his deep voice. By knowing him for just a second, you felt comfortable by his side.

“I take pleasure in appreciating the sunset…” your soft features intrigued him. You looked slightly different than most of the women he sees in Rome.

“I haven’t appreciated the sky since I was a kid”

“What a shame, General. You would find some peace hidden between the clouds” Your accent was slightly colder than everyone’s. You didn’t have the golden hair that usually meant power. He was infatuated and tremendously interested in the woman he was facing.

“I must know where you come from…” he says, paying attention to your eyes. You smile, touching the little pearls that fall from your pale blue dress.

“I was born here… but circumstances made Alexandria my home. I arrived last night…” his eyes show surprise. He analyzed your bracelets, made of pure gold. You had a leaf crown with tiny sapphires that shimmered around your head. It wasn’t hard to tell who you were.

“majestas… you shouldn’t be here” he mutters and you don’t even flinch.

“I can assure you, General Acaius… I rarely find myself in the position of damsel in distress” he chuckles and you are relieved to see he doesn’t carry a ring around his finger. It was happening so fast, you wanted to know everything about him.

“You may call me Marcus. Except when we are in the presence of your father or brother” you remember you are supposed to marry your brother. But it wasn’t official just yet. And you were quickly falling for this older and gorgeous General.

After a sweet battle or glances, he has to put down his sword. You notice the details and the signs of years of use it has.

“Is this the weapon you master the most?” he nods, noticing the dry blood around the edges.

“Indeed… I learned to wield it before I even went to school” You smile, nervous but eager to throw your next comment. He was speaking very softly towards you. But it was obvious that he was a reserved and serious man.

“I use the spear and axe” Your revelation leaves Marcus surprised. There were very few female gladiators, most of them being treated worse than common slaves. No female in the Roman hierarchy wielded weapons.

“You truly are one of a kind, majestas” As the emperor’s daughter, you weren’t supposed to ever wield a weapon. Contrary to that rule, you were required to learn about politics. In Egypt, you were free.

“Oh, don’t call me that… my name is Y/n”

“Precious name…”

His smile mixed with yours burst in an obvious mutual flirtation. After talking for about two hours, the moon is the only witness in the dark meadows, where Marcus and you kiss until your lips are swollen and he has hydrated him after days of dryness. He promises to keep close to you as his fingers slip under the fabric of your tunic. You swear to welcome his touch no matter what as your hand palmed his girthy length under his heavy armor.

That night both of you seal your fate. That night Marcus Acaius ignites a vivid fire inside your heart.

…

Often, you wondered if candles could run out due to the excessive use of them each night. At least thirty candles are illuminating the place. You patiently wait in the room Marcus had in the Emperor’s palace, seated on the edge of the bed. When the General comes out, he spots you at his resting place. Immediately, you frown at him.

“You said it was a minor injury” There’s a lot of dry blood on his shoulder. He had taken a bath… but the injury was there, uncomfortably lying over his skin.

“It is a minor injury.” He assures, sitting beside you on the bed.

It’s been only a couple of days since you met him… and you are already too keen on him.

“There are no gladiators where I come from. Only warriors… Generals only command their soldiers. We never used weapons as a spectacle”

“I’m starting to believe Egypt is a better place than Rome” you shrug.

“I miss my home. I miss the freedom. I can’t marry Geta…” you admit out loud for the first time. Marcus huffs, he doesn’t have a problem with letting you know he is jealous.

“Right… the wedding.”

“I have to marry him after all. Only that way I could share the title of Empress with him” Marcus sighs tired.

“Am I descending into madness for these strong feelings I have for you?” you turn to look at him. Your hand moves to the end on top of his.

“I look into your eyes… and I feel safe, Marcus” you admit, straddling him. Your fingers trace his beard as you lean to kiss him deeply. He reciprocates and holds your hips steadily.

It’s a wild moment to openly share carnal passion, but neither of you cares. You push him against the feathery pillows and continue kissing. His hair gets tangled around your fingers and his forearms and hands have disappeared under your dress. You start throbbing and he gets hard. But the moment is suddenly interrupted by some footsteps near the room. In a blink of an eye, you get away from Marcus and he stands up from the bed too.

“Use the trail at the end of the hallway. I’ll see you tomorrow, satis” he says, kissing your forehead before you quietly leave his resting place.

Some guards were wandering around the place as usual. You skillfully pass by them, using the trail Marcus told you. But it’s dark and very quiet, not even illuminated by torches. Your sandals barely make a sound against the floors.

So it’s a huge surprise when a hand covers your mouth and the next thing you feel is getting slammed against the wall. It didn’t hurt you but it was violent.

You gasp for air and encounter your half-brother. He has his golden crown and velvet robes, his face almost clean of tints that weren’t his natural skin.

“What were you doing with General Acaius?” You frown.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” his ginger hair is the only thing that shines in the dark trail.

“Quit the lie, soror. Has he made you impure?”

Oh dear brother, if you knew my purity has been gone for many years. But the truth was that Marcus hadn’t claimed you his yet.

“No. And it should not be a matter of importance to you” he chuckles.

Geta isn’t an idiot. He had seen the way Acaius looked at you during dinners. He noticed you came back to rest later than usual. And it was making him boil in anger. His disgust towards you before your arrival was strong. But after you turned to be a delight for his taste, Geta was burning for you.

“Oh, but it is a matter of importance to me. You are my future wife” he says, threatening to seal his lips with yours. The arm that was holding you still sneaked around your waist, applying a little too much pressure.

“Do you think I like the thought of other men touching or even smiling at you?”

Oh… so he was jealous.

His lips gently brush your neck as you set your eyes on the moon, waiting for the moment to be over. His touch is vicious, possessive, and harsh. The trail his lips have followed from your collarbones to your throat ends in your chin, mere inches away from your lips.

“If we can even consider this love… you have an odd way of showing it” he lets you go, the cocky smile on his face never leaving.

“Love or not… you are going to be mine”

“I’m also the heiress of the Emperor. We’ll see about that, Geta.” You spit bitterly, literally running away from him.

You have converted into an enemy for him. And you had to be ready to walk cautiously. Because you had changed your mind. Perhaps you would lose the crown… but weren’t going to marry him.

…

You missed dates so badly, but then the following morning, when a plate of them was included in the morning, you couldn’t resist. You are eating alone. Until the doors open and your father appears followed by two guards.

“Father…” you stand up, making a reverence to him. He smiles, extending his arms to hug you.

“I have wonderful news. We’ve arranged an encounter for you to demonstrate your abilities in combat” You are extremely confused.

“What?” Your father sighs, breaking the hug.

“I’m aware you performed in celebrations back in Alexandria. This is just the perfect opportunity to show the senate and council you are a prepared lady to receive the title of Empress one day…”

“Father… as much as I appreciate the intention. I’ve performed as a way to train for battle; gods forbid us from having to go to war, but… here, your soldiers and slaves fight for the mere feeling of feeding the greediness of hierarchy. I can’t do that…”

You weren’t a target for the empire to show off. You were more than just a woman with the ability to carry a weapon. You valued your freedom. And ever since arriving in Rome, day by day, you feel that you keep slipping away from it.

“The decision is taken. Heavens know why but the official announcement of your engagement with Geta remains being delayed. Hence, I won’t turn the Senate and council against me when there's no need. I may only wish you good luck, dear” You remember Marcus. He could have voted against the encounter. He was the General.

Suddenly you are bursting in anger, making the coldest reverence to your father as he leaves.

Your angry steps lead your way to Marcus. You found him taking a rest on a nearby balcony. When he spots you, his smile vanishes.

“You couldn’t impede that brainless idea of me participating in a combat?” Marcus has to sigh, placing his hands on his hips. He was expecting your anger to be honest.

“I couldn’t say no. If it did, they would suspect. I already have your brother behind my back all the time” You can fight him because he’s right. But it doesn’t dissipate your anger.

“You are going to be fine. I may be able to arrange the rules. I can choose the gladiator that will fight you, but your father and brother have the last word. What weapon do you want to use?”

“The spear…” he nods.

“Female gladiators tend to wield the bow and sword. You can easily disarm her…” you are not scared, you are just frustrated.

“Teach me the methods warriors use here…” you mutter. Marcus nods, taking your hand and giving an apologetic look.

“You will win, my dear.” His fingers place some strands of your hair behind your ear, it melts your anger and transforms it into peace. You want to scream how much you desire him. But you must retain your feelings given the hatred days you were living.

“Let me thank you for the training in advance, General,” you say, getting on your knees.

“Good girl…” Marcus whispered as soon as your tongue started working on him.

…

The usual crowd in the Colosseum couldn’t be compared with the amount of screams and cheers from the people watching the emperor’s daughter fighting one of the greatest female gladiators in Rome; Calista.

The sandy floors were covered in an elegant tapestry that marked the square where the show was occurring.

You are sweating, there's blood running down your chin and you can’t breathe correctly. Calista was ordered not kill you, but for some reason, she seemed to be personally trying to knock you out.

She had a helmet and armor in gold and red. But it was hard to deny everyone was invested in the attire you wore. A golden mask of Neith, the god of war that covered your face and a gold vest and bare shoulders. Everyone thought you were insane for that.

You remember all the things Marcus told you. Soon after your father started the encounter, you learned gladiators were blinded by the necessity of seeing blood on their rival instead of following a technique of combat.

Calista’s sword is sharp enough to give you a long cut by the movement of a soft swatch. You yelp in pain and she kicks your ribs, making you fall to your knees.

Marcus stands worried from his seat, but he soon returns to his place after making eye contact with Geta, who sends daggers with his eyes. Marcus understood your brother was insane when he disapproved of the gladiator he had chosen. Geta picked the most sanguinary and violent warrior to fight you.

Marcus couldn’t do anything. But he was impressed by your skills. He sighed with joy everytime you slipped from Calista’s touch. Even your father was displaying a face of proud.

But it’s not the same for you. You enter in panic, knowing you are at full mercy, almost dropping your spare. Your father is about to stop the encounter. The crowd is impossibly louder. You want to throw up. The sweat mixed with nausea, the cold air of the night, and the dryness in your throat are too much to handle. But you refuse to lose. With the sharp edge of the spare, you cut Calista’s calf. She’s startled, ready to strike back when your leg pushes her on her back. The heavy sword she carries makes a loud noise. Her skull crushes against the floor. It gives you enough time to stand, place your foot in her throat and point the spare against her forehead, ending the encounter.

The cheers are disgustingly excessive. But you’re done. You did what your father asked. You take off the mask and look at your brother in anger. Geta offers you a fake smile. He was surprised to see you were able to slip away, from his evil plans, from defying your father.

You offer your hand to Calista, but she refuses. She looks like she wants to kill you. But she only reverences your family and leaves.

Everything is forgotten when you set your eyes on Marcus. You want to smile and run to his side. He sees you with adoration. He sees the reincarnation of Psyche in you. A woman who Marcus swears it’s even more graceful than Venus and Persephone themselves.

Marcus Acaius makes a decision; He must marry you.

…

After a banquet, your bones and muscles ache with each movement you make, but you run towards Marcus. You need to see him after such a long day. He waits for you in the secure spot of the farthest tower. His light robes and leaf crown are securely dressing him when you spot him. The gold in his attire matches your bronze bracelets and indigo dress.

He’s the man you desire. He’s the man that had offered you a real demonstration of affection. He wasn’t trying to manhandle you like everyone before did. It’s more than enough to make you think your prayers to Venus have worked. You collide in his chest, giggling.

“I love you”

Both of you say at the same time. It leaves you shocked. Marcus smiles and you have to kiss him to believe it’s real.

“I promise you… we’ll be together” you nod dying out of happiness. He kisses you back and you feel you want to cry out of happiness.

What feels like a second was an hour of kissing.

And Geta was able to witness some of that time. Drowning in a monstrous wave of jealousy, he ran towards the Emperor to accuse you of adultery. But it was too late, your father was out of the city for the rest of the day. Geta is beyond enraged with the news. So he sends part of his father’s cabinet to a brothel, hoping his evil plan would work.

Later, when he finds you going towards the garden, he fastens his pace to harshly grab your forearms and stop you.

“That General is no good for you.” He spits with disgust as you squirm away from his touch.

“Neither are you” you fireback, stepping backwards.

“Go find him. You should know he just uses you to have our father’s approval. So I insist you, go find him and see what kind of man he is after you leave his bed” You raise your hand ready to slap him, but you don’t. You simply turn away and keep walking.

Geta’s words echo through your mind. You question him, valuing the honesty of his words. Marcus was a man after all. There wasn’t a perfect man nor a perfect woman, but you liked to believe there was still good in the hearts of the people.

Perhaps Marcus would be disappointed by your mistrust. But the uncertainty of his loyalty was something you couldn’t risk.

That night, you go out in a linen cloak, hunting the man you love. The guards won’t know you went out prowling around the city.

It’s late, but not for the city. Although is not crowded, there are a lot of people in the market. You let yourself wander across the place. There’s handmade stuff that women and kids sell. It makes you think about power and how not all of the people had it. If you ever became Empress, you wanted to see a prosperous and bright city. You want to ensure them with security and peace. You want to get rid of eccentric stuff, including gladiators.

The sound of music along with laughter draws your attention to a specific place. At first glance, you think it’s a tavern. But as your feet made it to the entrance, you gasped in shock. There are more men compared to women. The females are scattered around the place. Some feed grapes to men. Others dance and use their bodies to charm. All of them have their chests bare, showing their breasts and silver bracelets. It shocks you to see some of the females naked, kissing between groups of four or more and almost fucking them at the sight of everyone. The wine smells cheap, the whole place smells like sweat and sex combined.

You see from afar a large table of men. Your eyes look at the head of the table and it causes a great mix of confusion and intrigue. Because it’s your Marcus who’s seated with those men. He talks and looks seriously intimidating with his sword resting on the table. Your heart starts racing as a woman gets closer. She raises her hand to touch him. Marcus turns to look at the woman. She has short blonde hair, pale skin, and purple fabric that barely covers her body. Your eyes water at the sight. Your lover, who promised find the way to be with you hours ago is there, surrounded by naked women and you can hear him cursing. When the blonde woman is about to sit in his lap, you leave the place running away. There’s not even time to tear yet, you are completely covered in shock and disgust.

Soon you are back. You gasp for air, opening the doors of the place you call home. Two guards let you enter and you throw your cloak to the floor. When you look at the end of the long hallway, you spot Geta talking with his counselor. At the sigh of you, he indicates the man to leave. You want to leave him behind so bad, you avoid his eyes but it’s his voice that stops you.

“I told you so…” he says with an evil smile.

“Be quiet…” his laugh is loud and it angers you more.

“He doesn’t care about you. Acaius only cares for power. He could never love you-“

“SILENCE!”

You push him towards the granite bench behind and he is taken aback.

Even more when you lean to smash your lips with his.

It’s disgusting. There’s no care, only two individuals fighting for control in the lips of each other. Even the beetroot juice you applied hours ago has transferred to your chin and Geta’s. His hand is resting with pressure on your nape, and you slightly pull his hair, making him groan before kissing you even harder.

Just when you are about to sit in his lap, you stop. You look at him in horror. There’s no way you just kissed him. That you almost succumbed to his touch. But you remember Marcus with that woman. What were you doing?

Geta sees you quietly crying before standing up from the bench and watching you bolt.

You run to the meadows. The place where everything began. And at that moment, you realized you had completely failed.

Fighting in that encounter with Calista for what? Unnecessary approval of men who would surely die before you birthed your first child.

You pleased your father to live in peace for what? To carry the weight of a narcissistic brother and a traitor lover.

Your prayers were in vain. The love you wanted to find was over before it even started. Because it wasn’t real. You should’ve stayed back in Egypt. Maybe you should have married Geta on the first day. At least whatever he did to hurt you would have a payback. But with Marcus, it resulted in an excruciating pain that you had never felt before. Which makes you feel so ignorant and brainless. All that ego your mother had helped you build collapsed at that moment. You just wished for a remedy. Which for sure didn’t exist. But there must be a way, to make everyone feel at least a drop of what you have.

—————————————————————

part two or what? (Literally didn’t add the part I wrote for the sneak peak lol)

taglist: @drewharrisonwriter @my-dearest-agent @yellowheartz @spookyxsam @natasharomanoffsmotorcycle @uncassettodiricordi @kluvspedritooo @littleblackcatinwonderland

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Reader)

All Chapters List

Chapter 4: The Desire (+18 MDNI-SMUT)

"Ubi amor ibi fides."

Where there is love, there is faith.

“Tell me who you are,” Acacius waited for the answer to come from between your lips, his eyes lingering on the curve of them.

You knew it was time. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. 

“Marcus, I-”

He was taken aback at first, but he liked it when you called him by his first name. He kept questioning you, though, still waiting for an answer.

The door of the room was suddenly knocked on from outside. It was his squire. Acacius turned his head angrily.

"Don't disturb me!" he commanded.

"Sir, it's urgent!"

Acacius looked into your eyes for the last time, then withdrew his hands and turned towards the door.

"Come in!”

Acacius' squire Cato came in, looking very worried. 

"Sir, you've been summoned from Collis Palatium (Palatine Hill). It's an emergency." He was out of breath.

"Take it easy and let me know what's going on, Cato."

"They said, Emperor Geta has been poisoned, sir. The Empress wants to see you."

You covered your mouth in shock. After all, he was your half-brother. Acacius looked at you and then back at Cato. "Why is she calling me? I'm not a medicus."

"I'm not sure, sir, but I was told she wanted to speak to you. The guard with the horse said so. He's waiting for you outside to accompany you sir.”

Acacius nodded and let out a deep sigh. 

“Take me with you," you said suddenly.

He turned to you. "No, it might be too late by now."

"I can help him," you said loudly.

"Maybe you can't. I won't throw you into this recklessly,” he hissed.

"Are you going to let him die? It would be disastrous for Rome if he dies. He may not be the best ruler, but he's on the throne and an emperor in the end. I know he rules better than Caracalla. You know that too. You can't just leave Rome's fate in his hands."

Acacius put his hands on his waist, thinking, uncertain, but knowing you were right.

“I didn't know you were so interested in politics,” he teased, crossing his arms.

“I'm just observing things,” you shrugged. “Please let me come,” you said pleadingly.

His brow furrowed, and he raised his index finger as if in warning.

"You will stay in your cloak in the carriage and you will not show your face to anyone until I say so. If I need you, you will come when I tell you. Is that clear?"

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The upper class Roman citizens settled on the Palatine Hill and built magnificent palaces. Emperors lived here in palaces called Domus. Caracalla and Geta did not get on well, but they both stayed in the same palace, The Domus Severiana. This imposing structure was located southeast of Capitoline Hill and the Colosseum.

The carriage arrived at the Palatine Hill in the twilight. You and the General barely spoke the whole way, both of you feeling tense in different ways. He was nervous because he had brought you with him, and you were worried that you would not be able to help Geta in time. You needed to know what kind of poisoning it was. You were almost an expert, but you weren't sure how well you could do without Vicius, your uncle. If you do something wrong and he dies, you could be in trouble. The General was aware of this, and it was worrying him.

Domus Severiana had no entrance from the street because it did not face the street. Security issues were undoubtedly the reason. In fact, all you could see were high walls, and not a single window facing the street. As the carriage stops, Acacius looked at you directly. "Put on your cloak and wait until Octavius arrives."

You nodded and did as he said, pulling your cloak over your head. 

"I'll check on the situation, and if there's nothing left to do by the time I leave, you must return to the villa. Do you understand?"

"Understood."

Acacius looked at you one last time before turning towards the giant door of the courtyard, concern on his face. "I hope," you murmured as you looked behind him. "I hope you don't die, brother. And I hope I can help you."

A moment later, you heard the sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground as it ran and you turned your head in that direction.  Octavius pulled the reins of his horse and stopped it right next to the chariot. He leapt down and regarded the scene with a keen eye.

"My Lady," he greeted, "I wonder if there might be any news?"

You shook your head. "The General is inside," you replied.

He nodded, "I'll see if he needs me," and went inside.

It was dark now, and you were eager to get moving. You were ready to get out of the cart and rush inside, but when you saw Octavius coming out of the courtyard, you decided to wait it out.

"The general said you should leave," he said quietly. From the look on his face, you could tell he didn't agree with him.

"Is it too late for him?” You swallowed hard.

“He said he doesn't look well. I think it's his last moments.”

You frowned at him. "I can save him, just like I saved the general. You know that, don't you?"

He gave you a look that seemed to say he was in agreement. But he was just following orders from his General. “Acacius ordered me to accompany you to the villa.”

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, stood up, and jumped out of the carriage. Octavius stopped you by extending his big arm out in front of you.

"The General's orders are clear, my lady."

 "I cannot let him die like this. If this gets out of Rome, Our enemies will undoubtedly spread the rumour that the Roman Emperor died of a simple poison and did not even have a skilled medicus to cure him. This would be an attack that could potentially weaken the Empire, and we can not allow that to happen.”

Octavius was too stunned by your words. 

‘My lady, you speak more wisely than the emperors, you are full of surprises indeed.’ He smiled.

First of all, as a medicus who saves lives, it never felt right to do nothing and let him die. You were determined to do it, even if he was not your brother, even if he was not the emperor. As a patient who needs help.

“I'll answer to the General,” you said to reassure Octavius. “But, sir, we don't have much time.” 

Octavius nodded, then inhaled deeply. “Even if you answer him, he'll punch me in the face for sure.”

You walked with him to the gate of the courtyard, he gestured to the guards waiting at the gate, one of the guards knocked the gate with fist without turning his body, squinting at you, and the large gold-embroidered gate swung open.  

The main courtyard was enormous. As you entered, you were greeted by a rectangular fountain with a motif of four peltas (shields used by the famous female Amazon warriors). The walls were decorated with frescoes, the courtyards and colonnaded porticoes were covered with elegant marble, and statues adorned the fountain and porticoes. Some of those statues were of family members. The biggest and most central one was of Septimius Severus himself, your father.

As you passed the statue, you took a quick look around, not knowing who it was, and made your way to the second courtyard. A large fountain and the same columns stood in this courtyard, but the marble was a different color. It was a truly beautiful sight. As soon as you crossed from this courtyard to the back courtyard, Acacius, who was talking to Julia Domna, noticed you and scowled. Julia Domna was looking sad, too. On the upper balcony, probably in the part of the emperor's chambers, you saw a lot of movement. Slaves were in a rush.

The Empress was clearly surprised, "That girl."

Acacius glanced at Octavius and his face clearly showed his growing tension. 

"If I can help, Your Highness," you said, bowing your head.

"How can you help? General, what does that mean?" she looked at him with a frown.

You answered before he could, the whole thing was so unnecessary, especially when time was so limited.

"I know I'm a woman and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm an experienced medicus. I'm here to save our emperor. Please allow me, highness.”

“Is that true, General?” She asked, her eyes on you.

Acacius squinted at you and then looked at at her and nodded. “She is the one who saved me highness, so, yes it is true.”

“But Medici has already said there is nothing more that can be done,” she said in a tearful voice.

"My Lady, we're wasting time here. Please take me to him and see what I can do to help.”

Julia nodded, looking very desperate.

“Well, he needs all the help he can get, you must be skilled to heal the General, but I trust him not you, not yet, don’t forget that.”

You noticed the General clench his jaw.

"Come with me now,” Julia gesturing with her hand.

While you were all going up the stairs, following her behind, Caracalla, who was leaning on the balustrade in front of Geta's room on the second floor, watching everything meanwhile.

“Lover, Slave, Medicus, so many things hiding under that beautiful face of yours,’ he said sarcastically. You nodded at him but didn’t like the smile on his face. There was no hint of sadness in his eyes. He seemed far from sad.

Julia stared at him with determination. "We'll do what we can, won't we? For your brother.”

“All the medici have already done enough, mother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Or don't you trust my own medicus?”

You wanted to slap him in the face as he was standing in the doorway stalling you. How could he talk so carelessly when every second was precious? He might not love his brother much, but his behaviour was leading you to suspect him and you hated it.

Julia gently touch his shoulder. “I trust him as much as I trust you, my handsome boy. You trust me, don't you?”

Whatever Caracalla sensed in her voice, he didn't like it, and his eyes sharpened. But he quickly recovered his expression and smiled. “Hurry, then,” he said, pointing with both arms to the door leading to Geta's room.

Julia looked at you, "Just you." You saw the General before entering the Geta’s room. He was visibly nervous.

You were certain he'd give you a scolding when you got back to the villa.

When Julia led you through the door, you saw the golden dressing screen first. Opposite, was a large table with kinds of fruits and flowers on it and two chairs. Just beyond, in the opposite corner of the large window, where the golden curtains hung, was a large bed, covered with a red veil so thin that you could see the emperor lying on his bed. 

An old man, who was undoubtedly the medicus Caracalla mentioned just ago, looked at you with curiosity.

“Your Highness,” he nodded, his eyes were on you.

“She will check our emperor,” she said firmly.

“But this is a girl and-“  

“I said, I want her to check my son’s condition.” Her voice was sharp.

“Yes, highness.” The man bowed his head and stepped aside, squinting at you, Julia crossed her arms and gestured at you. You turned your head to Geta, lying motionless on his bed, a thick satin sheet draped over him. He was wearing a red tunic with gold embroidery, he seemed delirious, his golden blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his skin was almost white, you quickly lifted the bedclothes, took his arm in your hands and examined it. It was swollen, red, his neck had the same symptoms, it was definitely plant poisoning.

“Hemlock?” You murmured.

The man opened his eyes wide. “But how-“

Julia was surprised too. “Yes, they said that. Now that you've realised that quickly, you can make an antidote, can't you?”

You put your hand on Geta's forehead and checked his body temperature. It was burning. "We need to lift the covers now," you said, and grabbed the covers with your hands, lifting them completely off him and pushing them to the other side of the bed.

“I asked you if you could make an antidote!”

You ignored her question and asked, "How long has he been like this? Has there been any vomiting? Was it something he ate or drank?"

She froze for a second, thinking quickly. "It was after dinner. He threw up a lot, yes, and then he fainted. He was delirious."

"That's good. The vomiting," you said, checking his neck and lips with your fingers. You parted Geta's lips, still and pale. There was a little bit of food in his mouth, on the edge of his tongue, and you put it in a clean cloth and put it aside. They didn't even make him drink some water? “He needs to drink water and-“

“But highness, he shouldn't be uncovered like this, he will get cold, we need to keep his body warm,” the other medicus interrupted you angrily. Julia frowned.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Sir, you obviously have knowledge, but I don't think you've ever dealt with hemlock poisoning before. His body is fighting with poison right now, so we need to lower his body temperature. In fact, we need to get as much fresh air in here as possible. Please be sure open all the windows and I need clean water and cloths.”

“You heard her!” Julia shouted at the emperor's slaves. Then she turned to the other medicus. 

“Is it true? That you've never encountered hemlock poisoning before and you've never treated it and you didn't tell me?” Her voice was so sharp and loud that he trembled with fear.

“You've been living in this palace as a medicus for years, maybe even longer than this girls age. But you can't do anything against this poison. Even this girl knows more than you. And you have the nerve to tell me that my son doesn't have much time left?”

“Your Majesty! I did not want to upset you-”

“Get out!” She barked.

Then she turned to you. “Antidote?”

“No, there is no antidote for hemlock,” you shook your head. “But I can get the poison out of his body in the most undamaged way possible.”

Julia was confused. “So you mean I can hope that, my son won't die?”

You smiled at her. “No, at least not tonight, highness. I ask you to trust me.”

She nodded, “Do whatever it takes to heal him,” her eyes filled with tears.

When the water and cloth you asked for arrived soon, you put them on the bedside table, dipped the cloth into it, squeezed it a little, put the cloths on his forehead and neck, and took your medical bottles out of your bag.

“What are you doing?” Julia asked curiously. 

“I'll have to make an herbal mixture to-.”

“Didn't a plant already poisoned him?”

“Yes, but to reduce and neutralize this poison… Can I use the kitchen? I'll need to examine the food he ate for dinner and the drink he drank.”

“All right, come with me.”

You left him alone on the bed and went out with Julia while the slaves opening all the windows one by one, as you'd asked. The General and Octavius were waiting just outside the door. Caracalla was the first to notice you. 

He approached you two, looking you over, and then turned to his mother. “Mother?"

"He'll be fine. Let's pray for him," she said, putting his arm around his son. Then she called to one of the slaves, "Take her to the kitchen," pointing at you. Acacius was looking at you, but Julia stepped between you. "General Acacius, I need you to do something for me. Come with me," she commanded. 

Reluctantly he had to go with her and he must be hated it.

You called Octavius over as you and the General were walking in different directions. The slaves went ahead and showed you the way to the kitchen.

"Sir, I need your help with something.”

“Of course, what is it?”

"I was going to ask you to help me in the kitchen. We need to be quick."

Octavius nodded. He trusts you.

"Do you know where the empress and the general have gone?"

"She trusts the General, so she is having him question those who cooked and served the emperor's food. But what I don't understand. Everyone must have eaten the same food, right? Why is only Emperor Geta poisoned?”

“Thats why we're here, to find out.”

There was no one in the kitchen because they had gathered all the cooks and other slaves in the other courtyard like he said. 

You asked one of the slaves to help you get the bowl Geta had eaten from and the others. He went to the dining hall and brought the bowls that the other medicus had examined. You took a piece from Geta's bowl and put it on another plate. 

You took a quick sniff, without bringing your nose too close. You knew that the smell of hemlock was very pungent, but this didn't smell like it. That was a bit unexpected. You put the remains from the corner of Geta's mouth on the other side of the plate and compared them. It was clear that he had eaten from this bowl. You quickly looked at the remains of the food in the bowls and cauldrons where the others had eaten. They were all the same and there was no sign of poison in any of them. 

"It wasn't what he ate," you murmured. "It's what he drank," your eyes locked onto the wine cups. 

Octavius and the other slaves looked at each other, watching you curious to see what you'd do next. You looked at the slaves as you compared the cups. "Can someone tell me which is the emperor's drinking cup? Has a new wine jar been opened recently?"

They exchanged glances and murmured.

"Does she mean the one that that slave just opened today?"

"Maybe."

“Explain please?" you asked.

“One of the slaves spilled the wine during the drinks service, the emperors got pretty mad and told him to bring a new one. He ran to the kitchen and came back with a new decanter.

"And he poured it into Emperor Geta's cup first, didn't he?" you asked. Everything seemed to be cleared up, although you still didn't know what exactly had poisoned him.

"Show us that decanter now!" Octavius barked.

The slave girl nodded and ran into the dining hall to do as he said. A moment later she came running back with the decanter, but you got angry when she spilled some on the floor.

"Be careful! It must be poisoned!”

You quickly poured the wine into a cup and took a sample. The smell was a bit unusual, but you were relieved when your nose recognized it, you encountered before, back Egypt.

"Amanita muscaria," you said quietly. "He mixed it in with his wine."

"What's that?" 

You glanced up at Octavius. "It's a poisonous mushroom, made into an herbal extract and mixed into his wine. It's not an easy process, and not everyone can do it.”

You remembered the medicus from earlier. But you had better things to do right now than to blame him. The next step is to remove the poison from Geta's body. To do that, you had to make a natural antibiotic. You got the ingredients out of your bag and started making it right away, but then you had a sudden realization: everyone who cooks and serves food is about to die.

“Sir, please inform the General, I don't think it's the other slaves or cooks’ fault.”

Octavius nodded and turned on his heel and rushed out. You were praying as you making the herbal concoction with the help of the slaves standing beside you. While not as potent as hemlock, mushroom poison was still quite deadly, especially when combined with alcohol. But fortunately, unlike it, it is possible to make an antidote.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally finished the concoction and headed for the courtyard to go upstairs in rush. The other slaves ran behind you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with you on the stairs. You went into the room, put the bowl on Geta's bedside, and leaned over to check on him. You had so much you wanted to say, so much that hurt, but as a medicus, you were used to focusing on doing your job properly.

All you could think about was getting him better as soon as possible. You gave him the herbal concoction to drink with his slaves help. His breathing was weak, but you made him drink it all. You bowed your head when Caracalla came into the room. He was angry.

"Did you ask them to interrogate my slave?"

That slave who served Geta belonged to him, no surprise.

"He was poisoned by what he drank, not what he ate, and that makes him the prime suspect."

"Are you accusing me, you whore? Who do you think you are?”

He barked quite loudly, and at that moment, as you looked into his eyes, which were glowing with anger, you knew for sure that he was responsible for this. You forced yourself to remain calm.

"Never, Your highness. I would never accuse you of something your slave did."

He came closer to you, his eyes filled with menace. "Once my brother's long gone, all your show of healing will be in vain, and you'll be the one who answer for it, I’ll make sure of that."

You want to blame everyone but yourself, you cunt, you thought as you looked into his eyes.

You were both startled by a sudden deep cough. When you turned to look at him, Geta was propped up on his elbow on the bed, staring at you. 

"Who dares to make so much noise at my bedside?"

"Highness!" You couldn't believe your eyes to see him awake.

Geta raised his eyebrows, squinting. "You? Am I dreaming? Must be seductive one,” he smirked.

“Brother!” Caracalla rushed to his side and leaned over the edge of the bed. He was certainly a very good actor, you had to hand it to him.

“What happened to me? What is she doing here?” Geta was looking at you with his pale but alive face. Seeing him like that a proud smile spread across your face.

“Don't you remember?” Caracalla asked curiously.

“I remember I threw up like damn fountain, after drinking the disgusting wine, and then it was a bit dark,” he murmured, pursing his lips.

“My son!”

Julia burst into the room. The slaves must have informed her immediately. With a gentle touch, she led Caracalla to sit on the edge of the bed and hugged Geta. Caracalla stood up and crossed his arms. 

As you looked at them from where you stood, you felt envious that his mother was alive so she could worry for him, hug him, kiss him. You never had that chance and never will. 

“You are indeed a good medicus, what will you become next, I wonder.” The implication in Caracalla's voice sent shivers down your spine, you could almost imagine what he would do when he found out the truth about you.

Julia stood up and came to you, and for the first time you saw sincerity in her eyes.

“You gave me back my son's life, how should I reward you?”

“I have only fulfilled my duty, Your Majesty.”

“How decent.” Caracalla muttered.

“My head is still spinning,” Geta gasped, lying back on the bed.

“You should get some more rest your highness, and keep drinking the concoction through the night,” you said as you looked at him.

Geta sniffed the concoction and a disgusted expression settled on his face. “This is the most disgusting shit I've ever smelled. What’s in it?”

Just as you were about to say, he silenced you by raising his hand. “Don't you dare tell me, I don't want to know.” Then covered his face with his arm and pointed at you with his other hand. “I am indebted to you. Provide her with whatever she desires, mother.”

"That is very kind of you, but my sole desire is to see you recover," you said sincerely.

Caracalla laughed out loud which made you startled, Julia rolled her eyes, Geta laughed too.

What was so funny?

Geta turned his head to you as he was lying on the bed. “I get better why the General is so fond of you.”

When you heard his name, you looked at the door, but he wasn't there. 

"Let's give highness some space to rest," Julia said, gesturing to the door.

Caracalla pursed his lips, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't happy at all. Julia took your arm, you were a little startled but you stayed still. "Are you sure you don't want anything? Everything has a price, and everyone has something they want in return."

You looked at her face as you walked down the hall together. "I just want good days for Rome, Your Highness. That's all I want.”

“It will be so, since you saved our emperor,” she smiled. 

You were beginning to warm to her, but something inside you kept telling you were putting yourself in danger. 

“I see you live with him as the General's medicus. Is it true you saved him in Egypt?”

You swallowed, but you had to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“You lived there? He brought you here?”

You nodded.

“Do you have a name?”

“Highness!”

Macrinus came running down the hallway towards you. His eyes met yours, and you knew instantly that he carried a warning message. 

"I'm truly sorry for what happened. I came as soon as I heard. Could you please let me know how our emperor is doing now?”

"He's better now, thanks to this girl. It seems your and Caracalla's medicus wasn't as good as this girl."

Macrinus' expression made it clear he was not pleased. 

“Thankfully, he's alive. We should probably offer a sacrifice to the Gods.”

"I'll do that first thing tomorrow, but I'm not sure you're being completely sincere. You haven't called off the council meeting tomorrow, have you?"

"I would if it wasn't so important, but I thought Emperor Caracalla would lead it. He agreed."

From the way he looked at you, you knew immediately that the meeting was about you.

"If I could speak to His Majesty-"

"No, he will rest. Caracalla is also very tired, maybe you should come tomorrow. It has been a very hard night.”

"Have the perpetrators been punished? Who is responsible?" Macrinus was very curious, which made you also suspect him.

“The General is dealing with that,” she said with cruel smile.

You felt a pang of guilt for having forgotten him amidst the chaos.

"Your Highness, if I may, I would like to ensure that the General and I have completed our duties here.”

"I perceive that you are fatigued; they shall accompany you. You may leave.”

“Thank you.”

You nodded to them and hastened to the general, disregarding Macrinus' disapproving gaze. 

As you walked briskly towards the main courtyard, you thought it would be a good idea to get out of there with the general as soon as possible. You assumed he was upset that you hadn't listened to him. When you passed the tall pink marble column with gold inlay on the sides and came out into the main courtyard, you saw Octavius first. He was standing opposite the general and looking down at something. Then you saw the general himself, with his back to you. To see what he was looking at, you had to get past the stunted trees. Then, as you got closer, you noticed the strong smell of iron and then saw the sword in the general's hand. You were taken aback to realize that the smell was of blood dripping from his sword onto the ground. 

Then you saw people in slave clothes lying on the ground, including Caracalla's medicus. You were petrified. Julia and Caracalla must have had the General do their dirty work. When Octavius looked up at you, the General turned around and his eyes met yours. There was blood on his sandals, his leather armor, and his neck. His face was expressionless. When you saw him like that, you felt fear and horror. But when his expression changed and he looked sad, you threw all your fears aside and approached him. He pulled back and turned his head away. He wiped his sword on a rag Octavius handed him and sheathed it. 

"You saved him," he said, wiping the blood away from his leather armor.

"Yes, the empress said we could head out now,” your voice broke.

It wasn't just that they killed these people without a trial. They even had the General do this dirty job, and it made you angry. You forced yourself to ignore the people who were lying on the ground, lifeless.

You didn't like the way he avoided looking at you though, so you went over and took his hand, pulling him closer. "We're done here, General. Shall we go?" You touched his face with your hand and turned him towards you. His brown eyes shone like gems in the light of torches on the courtyard walls.

"Wait for me in the carriage. I'm not done yet,” he said coldly.

"I'll take care of it, sir," Octavius said, clearly worried about his friend. "Please go to your villa and rest." 

"You heard him. I want to go. I'm exhausted," you said, tugging on his arm, but he was like a statue and wouldn't budge.

Acacius turned his head to him.

Was he ignoring you?

“Thank you, my friend.”

But he must not have liked you tugging on his arm, so he grabbed your arm instead, you liked the way he touched you with a protective instinct. As you strode out of the courtyard, your gaze fixed on the general's face, you felt a sharp, piercing pain in your heart. You were not used to seeing him like this. You would have done anything to see him smile again.

It was after midnight when the carriage arrived at the villa, there was no moonlight tonight, it was quite dark. The General was silent the whole time, he joined you in very short sentences when you told him what you had done to save Geta. It was hard to tell if it was because he was angry with you or because he had to kill those people against his will. He was a man of justice and honor, it must have been hard for him, and you felt very sorry for him. You checked his beautiful face as you entered the courtyard of the Villa, still looks upset, it was getting unbearable. Without thinking, you stepped in front of him and put one arm around his waist and one around his neck and embraced him. You could feel the surface of the leather armor under your skin as you pressed your cheek against his chest. 

“I'm sorry you had to do that.”

"I was on the verge of doing more,” he said in a sharp tone, almost as sharp as his sword.

You gazed up at his face to ascertain what he was talking about. In the gloom of the night, with only the light from the torch on the wall of the courtyard, the color of his eyes appeared to be very dark. “If you couldn't save him, she was ready to kill you. She was so mad and was willing to spill blood. I made my plan right in that moment. I was as ready as she was."

You swallowed hard, wondering if he was talking about a suicide plan.

“To her, you saved yourself by saving his son. That's it. She put Caracalla's medicus life on the line without a second thought. She could have done the same thing to you," he hissed.

You felt guilty when you sensed the tremor in his voice.

“I'm sorry, I disobeyed you.”

“You'd better be,” he muttered.

You took a step back and looked at him. Finally his expression had softened, and you felt a sense of relief.

“But you were going to kill the empress and the emperors just for a slave girl?” Raising your eyebrows curiously.

He smirked. “Wasn't it you who shout in my face that you were not a slave?”

You bit your lip and gave a shy smile. “I did. I’m sorry for that too.”

“And you still didn’t tell me who you are.”

“I will, but, with all due respect you haven't answered my question, General.”

He lowered his head and looked you in the eye. “Not just for a slave, I'd kill them all for you even if I don’t know who you are.”

He couldn't have been more seductive with that sharp tone, your heart began to race. But no matter how tempting it was that he was ready to kill anyone for you, you couldn't get out of your mind what Macrinus had said before. You couldn't bear to make the General look guilty when he knew nothing about it.

“Can I tell you tomorrow? I'm really tired. It's been a long day and night."

“It certainly was. Fair enough. Tomorrow then.”

The next day, you woke up feeling so tired you didn't want to get out of bed. You had a lot of bad dreams about the General. You also thought about Caracalla's attitude, how ready he was to kill you, Julia's cruelty, and what she made the General do. It was all torturing you, and you didn't know how to deal with it. You were sure that even if Geta recovered thanks to you, he wouldn't support the General against Senate. There was nothing but tension between those two. Macrinus was so keen for you to introduce the congress tomorrow that he didn't even care that the emperor almost died. You knew that man's determination well enough. He wasn't going to back down from this, no matter what. He was only interested in power. He wasn't helping you because he cares about you. 

 He was using you as a pawn to achieve his goal. And you were aware of that. It's possible that everything he said about your father was untrue. Who knows what will happen to you when you show up in the council meeting. Or the general. You hated being in the middle of everything and didn't want to put the general in danger, so you felt your heart ache as you forced yourself to admit that the only thing to do was to leave. You wanted to go home, to your old land, where no one could reach you. If you could be invisible like before, maybe everything would be as it should be and the general wouldn't do anything to put himself in danger. It was a dumb idea, though. You weren't the type to run away. The emperors and their mothers had already seen you, and your absence when Macrinus convened the senate would have been an admission that you had run away. They would find you no matter where you went. There was no escape.

No, that's not an option. With so few options on the table, it was down to just one. However, there was something you wanted to do before telling him who you were. Now that you know for sure how you feel about him. As Aya, you wanted to do something as his slave. Yes, you were ready, maybe not physically yet, but you were absolutely sure as mentally.

A moment later the door opened and Norell walked in.

“Aya, are you alright? Master told me to check in on you.”

You sat up to look at her.

“I’m alright, nothing to worry about.”

“It's almost evening and you're still on the bed,” she complained.

Almost evening? Has it really been that long? Norell closed the door and came over.

“Or is it your moon? Do you want me to get you something warm?”

Fortunately, there were still a few days until then.

“No, I'm just a bit tired.”

“Yes, you came late last night, it was you who healed the emperor, but the master warned us to keep our mouths shut.”

“Well, I did what I could, yes. Is he all right?”

“The master? Yes, why?”

"Yesterday was a very tiring day for him and for me."

"He took his bath in the morning and then asked about you while he was eating, but he seemed fine."

Right, the bath.

"Shall we go to the bath today?" you asked her. You needed to take a bath before the night.

"Today? But I'm still bleeding, you know," she said, pursing her lips.

"Oh, right."

"But I don't think the master will mind you using the balneum," she said with a wink. "Is there any particular reason you wanted to take a bath today?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

When she saw you blush, a wide smile spread across her face. 

"Ah, so tonight's the night?" She clapped her hands gleefully. 

"Shhh, be quiet."

"No wonder you've been so pensive all morning."

You let out a deep sigh. She was right; you had definitely thought about it too, a lot. 

"But you haven't eaten anything yet. Why not come with me and eat something in the kitchen? Then I'll help you take a bath.”

"I'm fortunate to have you," you said, smiling, hugging her, looking at her reddish-orange hair, which represented ginger, thinking about what would happen after you revealed yourself. You didn't want to lose her friendship.

As you were leaving the room, you were pretty surprised to see the General right outside the door. Was he about to knock?

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

Norell bowed her head and walked away to leave you two alone, giggling meanwhile.

You ignored her and eyed him up and down. He was wearing a white tunic with gold leaf embroidery on the hems, a brown belt with embroidery of the same colour and pattern, and a red shawl over it, as if representing Mars himself, which was stunningly attractive. You tried to stay calm, but it was hard.

“I'm alright, well, I guess I'm still tired from yesterday.”

"I see. It must have been quite tiring for you. I didn't get a chance to ask you much yesterday because I was angry with you, but now I understand better how hard it was for you," he said in a soft, velvety tone.

He looked better than yesterday, the anger and sadness in his eyes were gone, and seeing him like this filled you with joy. It was so hard to wait till night.

"But you promised for today," he said, his voice gentle but insistent.

"Yes, if it's not too much to ask, could I come to your room tonight?”

Acacius' brown eyes met yours, first with a hint of surprise, then with a growing sense of excitement. 

"You picked the perfect time to talk," he said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks flush, and at that moment, you felt a strange moisture between your legs. It was a new feeling for you, a combination of lust and desire. It was wonderful, full of life.

"I have to go for a while, but I'll be back tonight."

"May I ask where you're going?"

His smile faded but his expression was soft. “I need to see how the emperor, Geta, is doing. Other members of the senate are going to visit today. Sort of like a visit to see if he's still alive, I suppose.”

"Oh, I see. One more thing, I was wondering if I could use the balneum. Norell said she couldn't come to the baths and I didn't want to go by myself."

"Don't go," he said abruptly. "To the baths. I mean, never. The balneum is yours.”

“Thank you,” you said with a shy smile.

He took your hand and kissed the top of it.

"Enjoy your bath, wait for my return at night," he said almost commandingly, looking under his eyebrows.

He touched your cheek, where it was blushing, and gave you a gentle stroke. Then he walked out of the courtyard. Even though you felt a little abandoned by his leaving, you were pretty excited because you knew he was coming back, so now was the perfect time for a bath. 

Norell accompanied you to the balneum, where you had a long chat. Thanks to her and the hot water, you were almost relaxed, and now you had only one thing on your mind. After getting dressed in your room, you combed your hair and applied rose essence with your finger tips on your neck and hair. It was your favorite, helps you to stay calm, and it smells so nice. 

It was almost night time but the General still hadn't returned, he had been gone a long time and you were getting worried. It was like bedtime for Norell and the other slaves. Cato, the General's squire, was waiting for his arrival in the courtyard. The water flowing from the fountain provided a soothing backdrop to the night, accompanied by the sounds of crickets. While you were playing with the water from the fountain, the black cat you had named Mau suddenly appeared and crossed between your feet, brushing its tail against your skin. She's been away for a while, and you missed her much. 

You picked her up, thinking it would be a good idea to play with her for a while, but she quickly got out of your arms and jumped down. She went to the west side of the courtyard, where the General's chamber was, and meowed at you. It looked like she wanted to show you something. You were curious, so you went over to her. She meowed and ran past the door and into the garden where you first officially met the general. It was hard to keep up with her speed, but you rushed to open the door and enter the garden. She was licking the remains of food on the ground. She probably stole something from the kitchen and brought it here, but she must have still been hungry. Tullia usually shooed her off, so she probably came straight to you. You felt sorry for her, so you went to the kitchen to get her something. 

You opened the door slowly and sneaked in. The kitchen was pretty tidy. You opened one of the food bowls, added some food, and closed the door. She started to meow louder and louder as she caught the scent.

“Sshh, you'll get us both caught,” you whispered.

You went back to the General's garden, afraid that Tullia would find a bowl on the floor in the morning and get angry. Mau ate all the food happily with a purr that made you smile. Once she was done, she licked herself clean with her paw and curled up next to you, ready to fall into a peaceful sleep. Unlike her, you were not so sleepy, you lay down on the grass to watch the stars, twinkle like jewels in the dark sky. It was mesmerizing.

"I hope you don't find yourself falling asleep there again."

You were startled by his voice. When did he arrive? You sat up and looked around. It was hard to see in the dark, so you looked up towards his balcony and noticed him. He was standing with his arms leaning on the balustrade, watching you from above. He had a wonderful smile on his face.

You stood up, quickly brushed your dress and hair with your hands and headed for the stairs. As you took each step, you felt your excitement and nervousness growing. When you got to the last step and were on the same level as him, he took his hands off the balustrade and looked at you.

You smiled when you realized from that distance that he was just as excited as you were. In the darkness of the night, in his white tunic, he shone like the stars in the sky, as if he had just descended to earth through them. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you, never breaking eye contact. He closed the gap between you slowly, and you saw his dark brown eyes in a way you had never seen them before. They were dark but sparkling, full of desire, an open invitation to you that you couldn't refuse.

You stood there for a while, just speaking with your eyes. At first, you weren't sure how or what to do. You didn't know how to kiss. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you were eager to learn and you really wanted to touch his lips.

You reach up and pull his face closer to yours. You closed your eyes and tried to make your clumsy lips work, hoping that your kiss would be seen as acceptable. You brushed your lips against his and kissed his lower lip. Then you pulled back and looked at his face to see how he reacted. A gentle breeze came from his nose and between his lips, hitting your face.

Was he laughing? You probably looked a bit silly because it was your first kiss. You felt a bit embarrassed.

“My apologies, I've never kissed anyone before,” you murmured.

“Then you'll have to learn,” he said softly. “Allow me to teach you.”

He puts his hand under your chin to make you look up before kissing you. Then pressed his lips against yours with all the passion he has. And Gods! He was a very passionate man. You're so shocked that your first impulse is to reject him. But your slight push on his muscular shoulders doesn’t do anything to stop him. If anything, his kiss gains intensity.

He ventures a hand to your waist pulling you closer. When he started to lightly touch your lips with his tongue you parted your lips and let his tongue touch yours, not hurried but restrained. His tongue tasted like sweet wine, the sweet smell of his skin took your breath away, your blood raced, boiled under his lips. The way his mouth explores yours, the way he keeps rubbing his body against yours, all tells you to surrender to him. Instinctively you raised your arms to wrap them around his thick neck and tangled your fingers in his curly partially gray hair.

He broke the kiss and smirked. You were out of breath and surprised to find yourself in this situation. "You can stop me by saying no," he murmured while rubbing your earlobe with his nose. He pulled his head back gently, his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for your approval. You could see the passion in them.

“I’m afraid that,” he placing his hand on your chin and stroking with his thumb, “if we go any further, I may not be able to stop myself, and you should know, there's no turning back.”

The thought of it almost broke your heart, you wanted him more than anything, you were almost ready to beg him to kiss you again.

"Are you really certain about this?"

You were certain, and you wanted to throw yourself into his arms.

"I am, sir... Marcus." You took his other hand and placed it on your waist as if it belonged there. "I want to be yours.”

His face lit up with a gorgeous, radiant smile. Piercing you with his brown eyes, his huge hands land delicately on your hip and the contact is so intimate that you have to remember how to breathe. His low, deep voice sounds confident. “You have no idea how long I waited for you to say that.”

And before you can even react, he kisses you, but not as gently as before, much more eager, much more passionate. You completely given yourself to him with each deep, passionate kiss. 

His long, thick fingers traced a path from your neck to the hollow of your back, then to the knot of the thin belt you had tied around your waist. You gasped as he quickly undid it, and you found yourself in his arms.

He lifted you so easily in his strong muscular arms, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when the air hit your face as he carried you to his room. He set you down, near to his bed, you didn't break eye contact as he slowly undresses you, you were sure your cheeks were redder than ever. The dress falls to the floor and gathers around your feet. He pulls your hair aside to expose your neck and collarbone. The atmosphere in the room changes, and you realize your body is shaking. He must have noticed it too because the tenderness in his eyes turns into something else. 

“You have a rare beauty,” he whispers, stroking your collarbone with his fingers, ”Your skin is like a pearl hidden in an oyster shell for me to open.”

When you averted your eyes from him, he cupped your chin in his hand and turned it toward him.  He scooped you up and lays you gently on the bed. The feel of the soft fabric against your skin is pleasant, but nothing compared to the sight of him standing over you and running his eyes up and down your body. At first you squirm shyly under his piercing gaze, his eyes screaming at you: You are so beautiful. I want you. This not only relaxes you, but also makes your body squirm with anticipation. Hot desire.

Your eyes widened when he took off his tunic, you had noticed how gorgeous his body was while he was bathing, but now it was even more impressive. A strong masculine chest, a muscular stomach and a perfect v line. The scars he has add to his rough beauty, perfect.

Marcus unhurriedly puts his knee on the bed and crawls over your body until he's standing over you. You weren't sure if he was trying to gauge your reaction or trying not to startle you with a sudden movement. He brought his face close to yours and began to run his lips along your neck and ear, his fingers caressing your shoulder to your collarbone, and then your arm. 

“Don't be nervous, try to relax,” he whispered in your ear, and when his warm breath hit your face you were getting impatient. He was being too kind and you were grateful for that, but you wanted to be his, you wanted to know what it felt like.

Then he uses his weight to pin you to the bed. The feeling of bare skin against bare skin is incredible. You start rubbing your body against his, savoring the friction. The contact of his body against yours makes you shiver. It feels thrilling. Arousing.

His mouth eagerly finds yours and turns into an all-consuming kiss. Warm, eager lips slide down from your chin to your collarbone and down between your breasts, sucking your sensitive skin in their path. You've always tried to imagine what men's lips would feel like on your skin, but nothing could prepare you for this overwhelming wave of sensations. It feels better than you think. Your back arches and you find yourself wanting more, more of his hand, more of his eager mouth. He stops and stares at you as he hovers over your breasts. You squirm in impatient anticipation. What is he going to do?

He runs his nose and mouth around your breasts, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. Marcus blows lightly on one nipple before bringing it to his hot mouth. He sucks gently at first, making you tingle all over. When his mouth presses on your nipple with long, deep, almost wild sucking movements, the sensation is almost unbearable. You moaned, writhing with pleasure beneath him, his mouth slides down to your stomach, torturing its way south until it reaches your ankles. Then he slowly slides up your leg until he's licking your inner thigh. 

He keeps your body arched as his lips repeat the sensual orbit up and down your other leg. He lifts your leg and pulls you down a little to better position it, puts it on his shoulder. You love that he is so strong and uses his strength to move your body. He runs his warm tongue alternately over both your thighs and slowly approaches the top of your thighs. 

He uses his strong hands to spread your legs, leaving your most sensitive area ready and well exposed to his tongue. A sudden flush of embarrassment makes you raise your arm to shield your eyes as he takes a good look at your most intimate parts. Marcus grasps your arm, pulling it back. "Don’t be embarrassed,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”

He hums into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he’s getting pleasure from driving you crazy with his mouth.

He kisses the area softly; he flips his tongue and sucks you sensitive lips gently. Relentlessly.

And his tongue finds your most sensitive spot. You gasp, writhe with pleasure as your legs stiffen. You cry out, exchanging your fluttering, flaming tongue for hungry lips. This pleasure is more than you can take. Your muscles tense, your toes curl. You didn't want it to stop, but it was becoming too much. Your insides begin to tremble. Finally he increases the pressure of his suction on your clit. Pleasure, scorching, pure, exquisite pleasure, overwhelms you and you explode. You try to muffle the vocal expressions of your pleasure by biting your lower lip, but he parted your lips with the tip of his finger.

 “Let me hear you,” he says as he gently kisses your lips and chin.

Still on his knees, he takes you in his big arms and embraces you. He kisses you sweetly as you slowly begin to descend from Elysium.

He murmurs satisfyingly. “It’ll be less painful now that you’re so ready for me.” He places soft kisses on your shoulders. “Do you want me to continue?”

You pressed your forehead to his muscular chest and nodded.

He gently lays you on the bed once more, you look at his erection nervously. Like the rest of his body, it is large, hard, and beautiful.

He leans to kiss you and you forget that you're nervous. In a swift move, he puts his hands on your knees, bending them, spreading them apart gently.

“Look at me.”

 You obey. The look on his face is hungry, almost predatory, as he settles between your legs.

You gasp when you feel your Marcus -your General- slowly rubbing against your folds. Coating the tip of his erection in your wetness. You squirm under his torture.

Still keeping your knees spread apart, he bends his body to kiss your mouth. “Even with your incredibly wet response, this will hurt. Tell me when it becomes too much.”

You feel him at your entrance for what feels like an eternity, enjoying the feeling of his erection rubbing your most sensitive spots.

“Surrender,” he commands while gently kissing your face, sensually sliding his hands all over your legs. “Relax.”

You take deep breaths in and out as he kisses first your mouth, then your nipples. He pushes the thick first inch of himself against your tight virgin walls and opens you up. You moan at this foreign sensation and open your eyes wide.

You don't want to say out loud that you don't want him to go deeper, but he reads your body, stops moving and focuses on satisfying the rest of your body while half buried inside you.

His hands have never been as hot on your skin as they are now. He leaves traces on your upper body and makes your body writhe in pleasure. He worships you. He stretches you. He moves slowly, constantly pausing to let your body adjust to him. You breathe sharply, your eyes locked. Your fingernails dig into his back as he starts to penetrate further into you, the pain ripping through your body as you spread to swallow his erection.

Marcus speaks into your neck, his warm breath tingling your skin. “Don't be tense,” he commands in a deep, husky voice that melts you with desire. “Relax, Aya.” He soothes your pain with a long kiss and you open your eyes and feel yourself relax. You love to see him taking your virginity, his beautiful eyes closed on the side of your neck, your body lying vulnerable beneath him. 

When he finally enters you, he lifts his head and looks you up and down, running his hands through your golden hair and looking into your eyes. His pupils dilate. There is a mixture of triumph and tenderness in his eyes.

“You look gorgeous sprawled beneath me.” His breathing is ragged. 

You stay like that for a long time, looking into each other's eyes. Despite the discomfort, you have never felt so close to him and you feel your love for him growing. Similar feelings seem to be burning inside him. The way he is looking at you right now is a combination of admiration, love and lust. You wouldn't change this moment for anything. 

When he feels you are ready, Marcus slowly pulls back, allowing you both to enjoy the painful, exquisite friction. He pushes forward again and you scream at the top of your lungs. The pain is back and you can't decide if this is more pleasure or more pain. All you know is that you don't want him to stop.

A wild growl rises from deep in your throat as he pulls back once more. He groans and slowly thrusts again. And again. Each time in a slow, sensual rhythm. Each time less disturbing and more delicious.

He seems to control himself not to speed up. But it certainly was, Marcus could feel the beast inside him, the beast that was screaming to be released, next time, he thought, not now. His hands leave your knees and grasp your head and kisses you.

It's all too much. The tenderness. The feeling of fullness, the searing warmth of your bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The thought that even though he's taking his time with you, he's still hard enough to make you feel like you're his. Beads of sweat cover his handsome face. His wheezing breaths on your neck tells you it won't last long.

Your walls are closing more tightly around him now. You feel him trembling. You feel him being released, calling out to you, emptying himself. His sounds of pleasure are music to your ears.

Marcus stays inside you for a while, breathing hard against the side of your neck. You feel his smile on your skin.

When he finally pulls away, it hurts. Both physically and emotionally. You already miss the warm connection between your bodies. He kisses you again and pulls you against his chest.

This whole experience was incredible and unlike anything you have ever experienced before. Every touch, every sound, you felt his love spreading through your whole body, mind and soul. Even after you left, you will always remember him as the man who made this moment so special. And you feel so grateful for that. You adore him right now and you know that you would do anything for him.

And you will for sure. You will do your best to avoid any misunderstanding or damage to his reputation. At that moment you made a firm decision.

You were sure he wouldn't like it, would even be angry, but you had to do it anyway. Your eyelids felt heavy as you felt the warm breeze from the balcony against your skin, Marcus must have fallen asleep too, lying motionless with his muscular arms around you. You fell into a sweet sleep as you pressed your ear against his chest to listen his heartbeat. 

When you woke up you felt a pressure between your legs, right in the center of your womanhood. Also feeling sore, heavy, and groggy. But you tried to move, even though it was difficult. It was still dark outside, you didn't know how long you had slept, but now you had to get up and move to do the other thing you had wanted to do for so long. But Marcus' thick arms were wrapped around you like a cage. Slowly you raised his arm and tried to slip away. He moved a little but didn't open his eyes, he was still asleep, thankfully.

As you got out of bed you felt wetness between your legs and turned around to look at the sheets. They were quite wet, and a red liquid had spread like spilled wine. You felt the blood boiling under your cheeks. You pressed the part of the sheet between your legs, but was that all? All those fears were for this? A triumphant smile spread across your face. You were sure to feel different now, like you were reborn. After all, from tomorrow there would be no more Aya. You picked up your dress from the floor, quickly put it on and went to the General's wooden chest, the letter was still there. Careful not to make a sound, you pushed aside the blank papers and other papyrus and reached for it. As you held it in your hands and looked at it, then you looked over at Marcus, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed. You wished you could give it to him yourself and have him open it in front of you, but you couldn't be sure of his reaction. You stood up and approached the bed, leaned over and put the letter on the dry side of the sheet so he would see it when he woke up. 

“Forgive me, Marcus,” you whispered. 

But you felt you had to do it, to go to your brother Geta before the day of the meeting and tell him everything, yes it sounded stupid, but you were leaving the letter in good hands, the General’s. And that was your assurance.

For some reason you trusted Geta more in Macrinus. Maybe if you tell him about Macrinus' plans he would be on your side, but it was just a hope, a desperate hope. You didn't want to put Marcus in that kind of danger, knowing that he would be there to defend you and oppose them. Maybe he wouldn't, but no matter what, you were going to go first instead of facing them at the council meeting, yes, that was your final decision. 

After lingering on Marcus' face and beautiful body with your eyes for the last time, you left the room. Your chest tightened with pain, it hurt more than between your legs. 

Love is not the solution to everything. But by accepting love and fighting for it, you gave yourself a reason to hope. Leaving him as Aya to meet him again with your new name and your new self. Septimia Aurelia.

Hope you guys enjoyed with horny moments lol

thank you everyone for all likes and comments <3

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[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steddie Gladiator AU - Emperor Geta x Empress Reader x Gladiator Steve

Includes: lots of drama, power imbalance & abuse of power, infidelity, Geta is a cruel, sadistic husband to reader, forced intercourse & pregnancy, violent language used, character death implied, unhappy ending.

He was a slave who fought in the arena against his will. You were a slave of a different kind, married to an emperor against your will. By all accounts, your paths should never have crossed. Yet somehow, they did.

You didn’t even know the man’s name, and you didn’t need to. It didn’t matter that he was a slave, beneath you in every way…except for when he was on top of you…his muscular arms enveloping you, his thick cock pumping between your legs.

In battle, he was savage, vicious in his quest to survive the arena. But in your bed, he was everything the opposite of brutality. He loved you tenderly, cherishing you. Your husband the Emperor had never made love to you, only fucked you, not unlike the way he treated his concubines.

Geta was cruel to you, deriving pleasure from your sorrow, from both the physical and emotional pain he caused you. One way the Emperor achieved this was by taking you anally every single time he fucked you. With absolutely no concern or care with preparing you for penetration, your husband took what he believed was his by right. He refused to fuck your cunt lest he accidentally come inside you, because denying you the possibility of pregnancy was another way the Emperor expressed his cruelty. One of his more sinister goals was to ensure that his first heir be conceived with a concubine, instead of his wife. What a humiliation for you, Geta reasoned, to deceive all of Rome into thinking a whore could provide him an heir, while his own wife could not.

But your lover, the slave, the fighter, was gentle and sweet with you. He made love to you any way you wished, because for him, your pleasure was his pleasure. He avoided coming inside you, however, to avoid the suspicion of the Emperor. Should you fall pregnant, the revelation of your affair would be inevitable. And you both knew that if your husband learned of your adultery, he’d execute you both, brutally.

In private, the gladiator longed for you. He spent every endless night you were apart dreaming, (as you did) of an escape…of a world in which you could both be free.

Tragically, it didn’t take long for the Emperor to learn of your affair. However loyal your handmaidens were to you, they were not so loyal as to risk their lives to protect your secret. Geta had spies in every corner of the palace, always listening, always watching. The Emperor was a jealous, paranoid man. He frequently put servants to death whom he feared may be plotting against him. Always in the back of his mind, lingered the fear of assassination from one of his numerous enemies. Geta had very little trust in any of the men he kept company with. He trusted his wife even less.

Keeping your relationship with the gladiator a secret was virtually impossible, under the regime Geta operated. And even without Geta’s spies, your attraction to the gladiator could not be easily concealed. You watched him fight, seated beside your husband, who took more interest in your studying the gladiator than he did the fight itself. Emperor Geta wondered what it was about this slave, apart from all the others, who had captured your affection in such a way? He envied the lust you clearly felt for him. Geta saw the way you squirmed in your seat while watching this man fight, in a way you never did for any of the other hundreds of slaves who had fought and died in front of you. Geta noticed the way your hands rested on your lap throughout each battle, how your fingers dipped ever-so-subtly to touch yourself when you thought your husband wasn’t looking.

A twisted new idea bloomed in the Emperor’s depraved mind. How exciting would it be, he imagined, to confront his wife and her lover in the midst of committing their sin? The following night, flanked by two armed guards, Geta ambushed you and your lover in your bedchamber. As his men drew their swords, he threw himself across your body, shielding you. “Do not take her life, I beg of you,” the slave implored, anger simmering in his eyes like fire. “If revenge is what you desire, then pay what is owed with my blood-.” He swallowed, squeezing your wrist. “-Not hers. She is innocent of all wrong. I…” Your lover quickly formed a lie, which he hoped would convince the Emperor to spare you. “…I forced myself upon the Empress, your grace. I attacked her while she slept, unattended by her maids-.”

Geta interrupted by clapping his hands in a sarcastic applause. “Your lies are noble, slave,” Geta jeered. “Quite an excellent performance, in fact. But unfortunately for you and my wife, your efforts at deceit are made in vain.” The Emperor’s wild eyes landed on you, a chill crawling under your skin. “I’ve known of your traitorous affair for weeks, my wife.” He took a step toward you, his pale skin illuminated like a ghost by the single candle burning at your bedside. He reached to touch you; you flinched when his cold skin made contact with your cheek. Geta smirked wickedly, before shifting his attention to your lover.

“It has been reported,” the Emperor continued. “That when you fuck my wife, your seed never enters her.” Geta tipped his head, curious. “Why is that, slave?” When your lover failed to respond immediately, the Emperor shoved his face within an inch of the gladiator’s, and shouted “TELL ME, while you still have the luxury of breath!” He spat at your lover’s eyes, as tears streamed from yours.

“It is a protection, my lord,” you managed to say, your voice high and wavering. “He did not want to overstep a line, by making me with child-.”

Geta interrupted with a cruel, maniacal laughter that startled even the guards behind him. “Overstep a line?!” he parroted back at you. “As if allowing a filthy slave to touch you was not?? His body still caked in dirt and blood from the arena-?” Geta struck you across the cheek, making you cry out. Your lover lunged for the Emperor, and was met with the tips of two swords placed at his neck.

“I once thought,” Geta mused, an eerie calm tinting his speech. “That to sire an heir with a concubine would be the ultimate method of humiliating you, my darling.” His fingers caressed the raised welt forming on your cheek where his hand had struck you. “But I clearly lacked imagination,” he continued. “Because perhaps nothing would shame you more, dear wife, than to be forced to carry the child of a slave…” Geta smiled villainously, his body teeming with a quiet rage. “…Forced to watch your lover killed,” he continued. “Brutally, horribly…while carrying the bastard child he’ll never have the chance to know-.”

The gladiator jerked, prompting the guards’ blades deeper against his flesh, piercing it slightly. “-That,” Geta concluded. “Would be the ultimate punishment befitting a traitorous whore like you.” He stepped back, encouraging his men to do the same. As their blades left your lover’s neck, he turned to face you, his eyes desperate and longing, moving a hand to tenderly caress your wound.

“You will impregnate her,” the Emperor demanded, nodding to the bed on which you both were seated. “Now.”

The gladiator took your hand, squeezing it gently, his expression defeated.

“Let her know the pain,” Geta added, a sick grin on his lips. “Of feeling a dead man’s child kick and squirm in her polluted womb…”

You bit your lip to restrain a flood of tears that begged release, looking into the eyes of the man you loved. His tenderness was the only love you’d ever received, and he’d given it freely, knowing the risk it carried.

“NOW!” Geta shouted, his voice rattling with rage, spit flinging from his mouth. The gladiator nuzzled his nose against yours, his hand still softly caressing your cheek, his voice low and gentle as he whispered, “it is only us…” You tried not to sob as he repeated, his words a hypnotic balm, “it is only…us…you and I alone, my love…”

As you sank gratefully with him inside the fantasy his words encouraged, the world around you both began to fade. Your husband’s voice felt far away, as he shouted once more for the slave to obey his command. And like a dream, a beautiful dream you’d lived so many times before, your lover laid you softly back against the bed…and made love to you, for the very last time…

[whisk3ysugar]

A Warrior's Daughter.

Pairing:

Emperor Geta x General's Daughter! Reader

Warnings:

Not really any yet, but next chapter shall be 18+, so proceed with caution.

Summary:

You assume that by being the daughter of a well respected general it allows you immunity. A breath away from the rulers and the empire as a whole. And oh how wrong could you be.

So, so wrong.

Emperor Geta sees to branding you if it’s the last thing he’ll do. If it means owning a general like owning a slave, he'd do it. And, if it means exploring the depths of unknown territory for the sake of power and greed, he would do it.

Authors Note:

This is my first time writing something in a WHILE.. It's not proofread and I wrote it on a plane ride. I was just wayyyy too caught up on Geta and I love him a ton but I wanted to capture that dick side of him (which is like all of him) and kinda write it out! Most of this is kinda backstory for reader, but the next part will be more shut and romance and tension.. Whatnot. Hope you enjoy!

The general served the region as a protector. A safe haven for the serfs and slaves whom lurked the corners of every street in Rome. Made for the people by the people, shaped to be a man capable enough to bare burdens and scars left by the empire. To be held accountable for the mistakes of the corrupt emperor, Geta. A horrid man who’d murder for the sake of entertainment. A man who’s veins ran cold with toxins more potent than venom. A poor excuse for a leader and an even worse human.

And a dangerous case to be noticed by. For fun, for pain, for greed, for it all because Geta never settled for less.

Being the daughter of a fighter, blessed directly by Gods of War, had given you false security. Something you’d conjured in your mind long ago in times of danger. To soothe you. Make you feel untouchable. Because in reality, that was the case. Back then, atleast, you’d been the daughter of THE General Acacius. Born with the blood of a real leader. A piece of someone with true power and courage who’d been loyal and an inspiration. The head of the Roman Empire beyond the grasp of Emperor Geta or Caracalla. In retrospect.

You had been someone. Protected. Praised. Seen beyond the façade which draped over the rest of Rome’s shoulders. Someone more, like your father. Looked upon like a woman unafraid of a challenge, despite your lack of royal status. A trained fighter, a kind soul, a brave heart, a person with morals held higher than the injustice of war and fighting.. You were everything emperors and empresses despised. Everything Geta lacked.

And although you could trace your attributes back to your father and your deceased mother, you’d always been bad at hiding true nature. Completely opposed to your father who valued safety over any personal opinion. A good man. Forever loyal to whomever sat upon the throne so long as it provided survival for the ones he held deep in his heart. For you.

A dog.

Commitment you admired but never wished to possess. Your rebellion engraved and scarred into your values forevermore, fueled by the promises of a better future. A better leader. And.. fueled by the fantasies of being safe. Or really, safer than the rest.

Something you’d grown to consider, contrasting your development into a real woman, had relinquished into realization. Realization that no one was safe. You weren’t, the city wasn’t.. Your father wasn’t.

It had been something you were quickly struck with when he’d been stripped of his title. Reduced to nothing more than a fighter, battling for another day to live, just for the entertainment of people more fortunate than he. Scarred and beat because that was his duty to his emperor. His duty to you, to ensure a life away from Geta and Caracalla. Away from the wretched mistakes that were the emperors.

Marcus Acacius had done everything humanly possible to keep you away from Geta. Or rather, to keep Geta away from you.

He’d lied, betrayed, gone against orders and cheated to keep your identity secret. Pure dishonor to his name merely for the sake of having you stay safe. He could handle it. The punishment, burden, everything. So long as you were alive, un-harmed, and out of the hands of not-so-noble nobility.

It was wishful thinking. As wishful as your fantasies of being safe, and courageous like your father.

There were suspicions that the general had been sheltering someone in secret. Perhaps a slave, maybe a new wife, but a daughter? No one could’ve ever suspected that. Much less the emperors. And, you supposed it could’ve remained secret if it weren’t for your own foolishness. For your mistake of unveiling yourself around the general.. in public. You’d never stood side by side with the man in view for anyone other than the most trusted.. So with your stupidity came the revelation that it was an unmistakable resemblance. Too genetically duplicate to the man to condemn. And as much as you’d prayed to every and any God to suppress the gossip, it’d been no use. To no avail.

You’d been caught. You’d both been caught. And matters couldn’t have gotten worse.

Except it did. Things got entirely worse.

Once word had been released that the general was harboring a daughter.. Especially since he was harboring a daughter.. and lying about it.. he’d been quickly suffocated with degradation. Bombarded with questions. Attacked with hate and pure confusion, because Gods forbid the GENERAL lies about anything, solely because he is the man that everyone trusts. Or the man everyone trusted.

Everything had gone from 0 to 100 in about a day. And from 100 to 1000 within seconds. When you’d lost your life and been stripped of your dignity, just like how your father had been stripped of his. All when the emperors in the flesh took it upon themselves to barge into the safety of your home, only to be greeted with the sight of truth. You. The daughter of a general, real, present. The consequence of love which everyone figured Marcus Acacius was too corrupt to conceive. The explanation to a general’s loyalty beyond the curtains of reality.

A rage to the nobles. A rage to the civilians. And an enrapturing woman to the emperor. To Geta.

The upper hand. The solution. Leverage to dangle above a superior’s head like bait. And a treasure far more priceless than any jewel or ore he’d ever been offered.

The daughter of a supreme leader who wielded no real power. No real riches. Only the comfort of kin and a reason to fight.

The catch of the millenia.

Your life was ripped away from you. Your father was ripped away from you. You were left with nothing but the orders to obey, and to marry.

For the sake of your father. For the sake of your life. At the cost of your freedom.

The life you’d planned to live was left behind as a memory. A fragment of the person you hoped to be. Replaced with the promise of a ‘better life’, and the safety you’d always fantasized of. Promised to you by your own father.

“You shall live a better life, my sweet girl. I know,” he sighed heavily. His voice shakey and laced with regret as he uttered each syllable to you. Eyes brimming with disgraced tears. Disgrace in himself for failing you.

“—I know I will not be able to keep you safe myself, but I promise you.. you will be protected. The emperors will protect you, so long as you listen. Obey.”

He’d sacrifice anything to avoid having this conversation. To return to your lives without the notice of townsfolk, without the eyes of rulers searing into your skin, and without the torture of having to leave each other behind. But there was nothing he, nor you, could do. You were to be engaged. To be compromised. To a ruler with no sense of dignity, no sense of humility nor a sense of respect. Only a power feign with no remorse.

Your father thumbed at your cheek, wiping the tears which streaked and seeped into your skin. Sorrow filled eyes longing for a daughter to hold, only to be met with the familiar face of a forced bride-to-be...

“Please, I beg of you to save yourself, father—Fight and get out of this country. You could die.. You could be tortured or murdered and I—I can’t handle any more pain.”

Your voice came out breathy and silent. Barely loud enough for your father’s ears, but just enough. Enough to get your point across, and to urge him away from what was to come.

“I fear Geta. I fear him with every bone in my body, but I fear losing you far worse. I will marry him. I do not know what he sees in me, but I know he craves your demise, and I will not stand around and bare witness to a further downfall.”

You craved a minute more. A second to tell your father how you love him so, and you couldn’t blame him for a moment in your life for how things are to turn out. But you couldn’t. The guards had arrived, and that was your cue to be dragged away. To struggle and sob as you’d be ripped away from your father, once a general, now a helpless gladiator. To call out for him as you’re hoisted out of the room by guards too rough to handle, only to be faced with Geta. Your emperor. Your ‘betrothed’. Smiling. Baring his teeth like a rabid dog at its prey. He was proud of his work. Proud of that sliver of ‘kindness’ he’d dug out. And he’d awaited praise.. for allowing you to share your last moments with your father. Geta expected a string of ‘thank you’s’ or sobs proclaiming everlasting loyalty. He expected obedience and nothing more. But, he was met with none. Not a single mumble of praise because you’d rather die than give him any.

“You will be.. such a fine empress. You shall bear my children and produce an heir fit for the throne. And, your father shall be our entertainment.”

His words make you want to gag. Make you want to fall to your knees and sob, but you knew that if you were to do so, he’d only be spurred on. He'd feel powerful. He’d feel like a winner. And you were never going to allow him that pleasure.

“You will learn to be a good wife and do as I say when I say it, you hear?”

A quick nod was all you gave him. No words, no emotions. You were aware of how unstable you were at the moment, and your façade would soon crack if you uttered a single syllable.

And, he was not content with that response.

“Answer me. Let me hear your voice or you shall be punished severely.”

Your cheeks flushed pink. You wanted so badly to cry and flee forever. But you couldn’t. Your options were entirely limited. You could escape.. or ‘obey’, as your father had said.

And obey you shall.

“Yes, your highness. I hear—I will bear you a child and you—”

You were risking everything. You should stay silent, evaluate your options. Realize that you weren’t at liberty of speaking your mind any longer. But you are the daughter of a general, and his courage is your courage.

“You will ensure my father’s safety. You must.. allow him to be the most glorious gladiator..”

Always the challenger, never for peace. Just as your father had been. Forever a threat to the rulers and still with the promise of punishment for rebellion, you pursue. It angers him. Makes him seethe. He grinds his teeth and his jaw tightens as he considers how exactly to deal with you.

No room for murdering you like he’d normally do to other subjects in a fit of rage. No chance to attack you ferociously. No time to scream at you.

He’d settle for showing you how your power paled in comparison to his.

Your feet stumble as he lunges forward at you, quickly slithering his hand up the scruff of your neck to fist at your hair. A tingling pain sets in at the roots of your strands, stinging, and bruising as he handles you like a pest. It nestles uncomfortably, and it taints the feeling of abuse you’re enduring at his doing.

Yet, you’re forced to push it aside as he replaces the feeling with.. something different. The feeling of his lips crashing into yours. Latching on and gnawing gently in a battle of teeth and tongue. His saliva tastes different than any liquid you’ve drank. It’s almost heavenly, offering life to its victims. To ease the pain burrowed within you. It’s feral. Animalistic, really. But how could you have expected anything less from a tyrant.

After all, Geta gained power from making others submit. And it always worked. But forever the fighter, you’d always put up a battle.

Eyes pressed tight together as you inhale him, and everything that made him. His scent, almost musky but perfumed and pampered, his taste, a tinge of alcohol and deliciously fruity, just the feeling of him on you. Everything. He filled you with his presence. Geta overtook any space you’d left empty. And, part of you wished the circumstances could be different. Where in some other world this could be considered love, and Venus could watch upon your blooming romance. In some alternate world you’d drop your persistence, settle in his embrace without a care in the world and let him have his way.

But, you’re in this world. And in this world you haven’t the luxury of submission. Atleast.. total submission.

So with enough passion to fuel your senses. Your morality. You unravel from your sentience and glide your hands along the luxurious red that is his tunic, tracing upon the engraved designs, all the way to the treasures that were his jewels and golden accents, absolutely littered all over his garments. And, with a boost you swallow down the feeling of disgust to feel empowered rather than useless. To taste him back and contribute to the battle between your lips.

You fight for the power you deserve. The power your father earned for the both of you which should’ve never been retracted. You’d show this emperor who you were. How you weren’t a servant, nor a slave, and you’d never be reduced to a mere concubine. You were your own soldier, and you would not be conquered.

You pull away, his grip still firm on your neck. Its unsure if your bravery is attractive, or completely rejected, but the swell on Geta’s lips, and the saliva connecting you two is enough to tell you that regardless of what it resulted in, it was worth it. You had showed him who you were, and where you stood. He both loved and despised it.

“Get out of my sight. Go to your chambers. We will speak tomorrow.”

The tight grasp he had on your neck faltered, and you could feel the mark forming as he removed himself from you. His voice was as breathy as yours on the nights you’d pray to the Gods, pleading for forgiveness for whatever crimes youd committed. Breathy like your sobs for your father to hold you, keep you. Hell, you’d almost forgotten about how you were practically stolen away a mere few minutes ago. Deep down you hated yourself for indulging in the man you were to marry.. but you knew it had to be done. And if you enjoyed it.. well you’d convince yourself he’d corrupted you, somehow. Someway.

Regardless, you’d remained obedient. Like your father begged of you. Like Geta had reminded you to act. And if that meant scurrying off to your room.. your own room without his intoxicating presence, well then you’d do it in a heartbeat. It’d leave you to think. To plan. To lay in your bed and wait till you’d, (most likely), be called upon by a greedy emperor.

Most of all, though.. You’d remind yourself what you’d done, and how this was your fault. And you’d do anything to fix your mistake.

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

Display of Death

A/N: Just another Emperor Geta fic, this time inspired by a dream I had. The beginning part and smut wasn’t part of the dream, but I wanted to add some sort of backstory for the reader and extra context for this. Either way, enjoy my fellow Emperor Geta whores. This one is a dark one 😘

Emperor Geta x senator’s daughter!Reader (the reader’s age isn’t specified in this fic, but she can be in her 20s or 30s depending on your personal preference.)

warnings: 18+ only! This fic is not for minors, so DNI! mentions of a character being drugged into a state of incapacitation, psychotic!reader, possessive!reader, descriptions of murder, dismemberment and public display of a human corpse, horny!Geta (he’s into that savage murder shit 😏), unprotected p in v smut, profanity, etc

At first it wasn’t easy for Emperor Geta to choose the woman he wanted to make his future Empress. He had met several candidates over the course of a week and not a single one met the high standards he held, neither of them had the bravery, bold confidence, vulgar display of power, or even the beauty that he was looking for.

That was until you caught his attention.

You weren’t even one of the women that were chosen as a potential candidate, you were just the daughter of a senator who kept you out of the limelight of the Roman Empire your whole life. Of course that finally backfired on your father when you managed to drug him with the sedatives you asked your lifelong caretaker to smuggle in to you so you could sneak out for a night to finally have some sense of freedom.

You were wandering the grounds of Palatine Hill when you unfortunately ran into General Acacius, who also happened to be accompanied by Emperor Geta. You hadn’t met either of the Emperors prior to this, your father made sure to keep you as far away from them as possible, and with reason.

“Y/N? What are you doing out so late by yourself? Where is your father?” The General had a nervous frown on his face as he marched towards you, but you simply rolled your eyes in response. Your father had him wrapped around his finger when it came to making sure you were out of the public eye.

“Is it a crime to go for a late night walk?” You crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring his question regarding the whereabouts of your father, you didn’t need him getting in the way of your plans. “Last I checked, I’m a grown woman who has every right to do what I want without my father’s selfish ass controlling my every move.”

“You know how he feels about you going out--”

“And I don’t give a damn how that piece of shit feels!” You snapped, a fire in your eyes as you stepped towards General Acacius and jabbed your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who the fuck he or you are, if I want to choose my freedom over his ridiculous prison-like rules, then I’m going to! I’m done letting him keep me hidden away like I’m some sort of fucking embarrassment to him!”

“You know that’s not why he keeps you out of the public eye.”

“The other senators don’t keep their daughters hidden away like he does with me. Now why is that, huh? Tell me!” Your anger was rising and patience wearing thin, not paying any mind to the Emperor who was now completely enamored with you and the rage you exuded, you were the full center of his attention.

“I can’t say.”

You laid a harsh smack across the General’s face before forcefully grabbing him by the jaw so you could stare him in the eyes. “Tell me or I’ll fucking kill you, Marcus.” Your cold, dark eyes held truth to your words, which had him swallowing thickly. He knew you weren’t fibbing, he could feel the blade of the dagger you were now pressing against his jugular.

Where the hell was she hiding that dagger?

“He keeps you hidden from them.” His eyes flicked towards the right in the direction of where Emperor Geta was standing watching the whole ordeal play out, but his voice was barely above a whisper so Geta couldn’t hear his answer to your question.

You laughed bitterly at that, sheathing your dagger back into its place before stepping away from General Acacius. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Keeping me prisoner all these years because he’s afraid they’d corrupt me? Well the joke’s on him because he’s the reason I turned into a full blown psychopath!”

You clenched your fists by your sides as you turned away from him, now staring back towards the direction of your luxurious home where your incapacitated father currently resided. “He’s lucky I only drugged him into a coma, I very well could have slit his throat like I wanted to. I have some restraint, you know.”

The General zoomed past you towards your house to make sure your dad was still alive and breathing and you only scoffed before turning to finally face Emperor Geta, taking in the sight of his extremely handsome features for the first time since he became Emperor. The way he was staring at you with a carnal desire made your heart pound away in your chest, but it’s what he said next that filled you with an excitement you’d never felt before.

“I’ve finally found my future Empress.”

~

Thanks to Emperor Geta, you finally earned the freedom you’d been craving for the majority of your teenaged and adult life. He ordered for your father to be arrested for wrongful imprisonment and had him stripped of his senatorial title. Your father begged for leniency, but Geta wasn’t having it. He told your father his punishment was lenient enough because he could have had him killed instead. You wouldn’t have minded that, if you were being honest.

Word spread quite quickly that Emperor Geta had chosen you to be his Empress-to-be and to say that most of the girls who were actual candidates were displeased about that decision is an understatement. They discussed amongst themselves how it was unfair that he chose you instead of one of them and came up with a plan to try and get Emperor Geta to change his mind and pick one of them instead. Little did they know, that plan was going to backfire.

Those girls had zero clue of how psychotic you were, how when something was rightfully yours, you would fight for it to the death, and of course that something in this case was Emperor Geta. The night you two first met, he took you back to his chambers at the palace where you spent the whole night into the morning talking and getting to know each other. By morning it was as though you’d known each other your whole lives, you were officially inseparable.

The girls enacted their plan as soon as possible, deciding they would one by one flirt and be extra friendly with Emperor Geta until he caved and chose one of them to be his Empress instead. Except only one of them was able to attempt their plan before you got your hands on her and showed the rest of them you were not to be trifled with. When you realized what they were up to, it had your blood boiling and thinking about how they had the audacity to try and steal him from you when it was you that he clearly wanted, not them.

After stealing borrowing some weaponry from The Colosseum armory, you stalked the first girl who attempted to flirt with Geta and steal his attention and heart from you, waiting until dusk and when she was completely vulnerable before striking her down. When your time to shine arrived, the first thing you did was repeatedly force your dagger into her spinal cord to render her paralyzed. The maniacal laugh you let out as she collapsed with pained gasps sent haunting shivers right through her.

Your pupils were blackened with a murderous rage as you stood above her, staring down at her with a twisted grin as you unsheathed the sword you had taken from the armory. “You see, this all could have been avoided had you not schemed behind my back to steal what’s rightfully mine. I don’t take lightly to jealous little girls thinking they can convince my husband-to-be into picking one of them over me. There’s a reason he didn’t choose any of you. If only you could have gotten that through your thick skulls so none of you had to die.”

“Please...” She gasped, trying to reach out to grab you but unable to do so due to the traumatic injury to her spinal cord. “You don’t have to do this.” She really thought begging and pleading was going to help her case. How cute.

“Too late. I’m already committed.” You gave her a wicked grin this time before severing one of her arms clean off with the newly sharpened sword, watching with a sadistic sense of pride as blood spewed out of her wound. Her anguished scream had you inhaling deeply through your nose with closed eyes as you relished in the delightful sound, your grin only growing more wicked. “Aaahh I love the sound of suffering in the evening.”

Not another word was spoken from her before you were quite literally hacking her into pieces, your final blow cutting her head clean off her torso. But you weren’t done with her yet, oh no, you had to show all of the other girls the consequence of trying to take what’s yours. The first thing you did was impale her head on a stake and publicly displayed it for all of Rome to see come tomorrow. Then you scattered the rest of her remains around the spot where you placed the stake and used her blood to write a warning on the adjacent wall.

After arriving at the palace not long after finishing your deadly duties, you quickly cleaned yourself up before slipping into bed in Geta’s chambers, finding comfort in his bed rather than your own. He wasn’t there at the moment, he was still unfortunately dealing with some important matters regarding the next gladiatorial contest at The Colosseum, but you were quite content either way. Your adrenaline was still rampant after what you’d just done out of full blown possessive love. You couldn’t wait to tell Geta all about it.

~

Screams of terror. That’s what woke you out of your peaceful slumber and it had you grinning deviously knowing exactly what the screams were about. Geta stirred beside you, opening his eyes with displeased grumbles about how it was too early to be woken by people screaming bloody murder.

You turned on your side to face him with a cheeky grin, reaching to gently brush your thumb against his cheekbone. “That would be my fault, my love. It seems someone’s discovered my lovely display of death that I put out last night.”

Geta gave his head a curious tilt to the side, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean by "display of death"?” He knew you couldn’t have killed your father and put him on public display as a way of getting back at him after all those years being imprisoned in your own home since he was now locked up for life himself, so who exactly did you kill?

“Why those girls who were chosen as candidates to be your potential future Empress were conspiring against me to steal you away from me, so I taught them a lesson by brutally murdering and dismembering the first girl who even dared to try stealing your attention and heart from me. Now she’s on public display for everyone to see and know that their future Empress is just as sadistic and unhinged as the Emperor she’s set to marry.”

Geta’s heart fluttered wildly in his chest at your confession, falling even more in love with you over the fact that you were so willing to kill over him. Grinning widely at you, he reached out to cup your cheek in his hand. “Oh, my beloved, you are so beautiful, violent, and vulgar. I just knew I made the right choice in choosing you to be my Empress.” Immediately his lips were on yours, his other hand cupping your other cheek as he rolled over until he was positioned on top of you, rolling his hips forward to let you feel how hard he’d become.

You moaned wantonly at the feeling of his hard cock grinding against your clothed center, rocking your hips in tandem with his own movements as you reached to start stripping him of his sleep robe. “Please, my liege, I need you.” You murmured into the kiss, your fingers gliding down the center of his bare chest towards his erection where your fingers wrapped firmly around the base.

“Whatever my bride-to-be wants, my bride-to-be gets.” He mused as he brought his own hands down to start ridding you of your own garments, carelessly tossing them to the floor before bringing you into another kiss just as he glided his length through your arousal soaked folds. “Mmm... Already so wet for me?” He pushed into your sopping cunt then, earning a mewl mixed with pain and pleasure from you as your walls swallowed up each thick inch of him.

“Oh my gods, you’re so big.” You whimpered, your eyes rolling into the back of your head once he set a steady rhythm in thrusts, your legs wrapping firm around his waist while your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders. You could already feel the fire within your belly growing, knowing you probably weren’t going to last very long seeing how this was your first time and you had yet to build up your sexual stamina. Your eyes moved to look up at Geta as he fucked into you, your gazes meeting and further feeding the fires growing within both of you.

“You feel so divine, beloved. Buried inside you is my official favorite place to be. Not even the deadliest of gladiatorial contests beats being buried inside this perfect wet cunt of yours.” He moaned delightedly as he kept your gaze, resting each hand at either side of your head nestled against the pillows beneath it, grinning from ear to ear at your pleased moan in response to his words. He dipped his head down after a minute to start kissing and nipping along your throat, then up towards your jaw, working his way back towards your mouth where he kissed you with fervor.

Tongues collided as you returned his kiss with matching passion and energy, your fingers working their way into his hair where you gave harsh tugs as a way of showing how good he was fucking you, the nails of your other hand dragging down the length of his shoulder blade. “Just like that, my love. M’not gonna last very much longer.” You murmured with a particularly harsh squeeze around his length, earning a guttural moan from his throat that sent shivers of arousal right through you.

“I’m close too. You just feel so good, beloved.” He sighed contently, lowering one of his hands to find your clit so he could rub gentle but quick circles into it, pulling a pleased cry from your throat. “Let go for me. Want us to cum together, can you let go for me?” He hummed as he kept up his pace and force in thrusts, applying a little more pressure to his rubs on your clit until you were finally clenching tight around his cock and coming undone with a loud cry of his name, him right there with you as he filled you with a guttural moan of your name.

“Thank you.” You panted, finally breaking the silence after the two of you came down from your highs, Geta’s head lifting from where he had nuzzled it against your breasts with a satisfied smile. For your first time being intimate together, this was better than how either of you imagined it to be, but you knew the more sex you had, the more mindblowing it would become. Personally he couldn’t wait until you were ready for him to make you scream on his cock while he fucked his heir into you.

“Mmmm thank you.” He leaned in to press a softer kiss to your lips this time, pulling back after a few moments with a smile. “Shall we get dressed and check out that lovely display of death you created?”

“I would love nothing more.”

Thank you for reading! I know it’s kinda short and the smut isn’t the best I’ve written, but comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 🥺

Tagging: @userchai @myherometalhead

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

Oh fuuuuuck 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

emperor geta x empress reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: established relationship, fingering, unprotected piv sex, period sex, blood play, light choking, geta (he’s a warning all his own)

this is really some very bloody period sex… if you aren’t comfortable with that, this isn’t the one for you. also shoutout to @strangerstilinski as always for helping me fix a few things 💕

blood.

it’s everywhere, covering his thighs and smearing onto the linen sheets.

you are straddling his lap, fingers curled in his fiery locks as he guides you along his thick shaft. his eyes are squeezed shut, mouth agape as his end draws near, so it is you that notices the mess first. a panicked whine leaves your lips, and you tug harshly onto his hair in an effort to stop this.

not wanting to be on the other side of his fury when he finally sees what you’ve done.

but only a deep groan rumbles in his chest at your actions, your emperor completely unaware of your current plight.

when you start to shove against his chest is when he finally catches on, his eyes snap open to witness your panicked state.

and then he sees it— the smears of crimson across the sheets.

his grip on your hips tightens immediately and he stops all movement of them. the emperor keeps you seated, with his cock nestled at your deepest point. the emotions that flit over geta’s features are hard to read, but there’s a fire engulfing his eyes. one you’ve only seen when he’s witnessed a man taking the life of another.

but the sudden tightening of his jaw convinces you that he’s angry.

so you quickly scramble off of his lap, pulling the bloodied sheets over your body as a feeling of shame courses through you.

“my lord, i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for—”

he grabs onto your ankle before you reach the end of the bed, and drags you back to him. the male then flips you over onto your back and hovers over your trembling, naked form. he says nothing as his hand dips between the soft skin of your thighs, gathering a mixture of your blood and slick on his fingers.

he holds them up toward the sunlight streaming through the curtains, admiring the dark, sticky substance that coats his pale skin. any feelings of shame soon dissolve into arousal as you grab onto his wrist and carefully guide his fingers back between your thighs.

his dark eyes flick between his blood-stained fingers and your face, a devilish grin overtaking his features as he watches those final traces of anxiety melt away from your expression.

“i’m not even close to being finished with you,” he grunts, greedily gathering more of the mixture on his fingers before they dip inside your dripping cunt. he pumps them inside you urgently, determined to make as much of a mess as possible.

the mewls that fall from your lips only grow louder when he reaches up to wrap his other bloody hand around the base of your throat.

and he eagerly trails his fingers over your bare skin, smearing more blood in his wake. and he doesn’t stop until you’re both covered in it, only then does he replace his dexterous fingers with his thick cock. thrusting back inside you like a rabid beast, aimed for the kill.

his dark gaze drops to where your bodies connect, each hard stroke covers the base of his cock in a creamy, pinky ring. an almost animalistic noise leaves his throat when your eyes meet, and the emperor pulls your body up towards him until your breasts are pressed against his hard chest. then his lips crash against your own, in a mess of tongue and teeth.

geta’s maniacal laughter fills your bed chambers, his ringed fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he bounces you harder onto his cock.

“only a mortal fool would fear a little bloodshed, my dove.”

[floatyflowers]

❀ Masterlist PART TWO ❀

Part One

1- Dark! Platonic Father Dracula X Kidnapped Human Child Reader

2- Dark! Platonic Adoptive Mother Elizabeth I x Reader

3- Dark Jareth X Reader

4-Yandere First Husband Emperor Geta x Wife Reader Empress Lovestruck/Heartbroken x Yandere Second Husband Emperor Caracalla.

5- Dark Erik 'the phantom of the opera' X Reader

[dreamyjosephquinn]

I’m not even close to smut part and I’m already clenched my thighs!! You are a witch, Becca…

“Mmmm… I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

AAAAAAHHHHH YES, GETA, RUIN ME!

*Chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss chief kiss* this is my new favourite I ever read for Geta. 💛

Rage, Ropes, and Release

Emperor Geta just refuses to leave my mind, so here’s yet another fic idea that decided to plague me at work 😩

Emperor Geta x wife!Reader

warnings: 18+ only! Minors DNI to this filth! angry!Geta (not towards Reader), mentions of murder, blood covered Geta, patient!Reader, obedient wife!Reader, masochist!Reader, sadist!Geta, hog tying, whips (we’re going to pretend that riding crops and signal whips existed during the Roman Empire), pussy whipping, knife play, blood consumption, unprotected p in v smut, multiple orgasms, creampie, profanity, etc

You knew exactly when your husband was in an angry mood and in need of some sort of release, his bellowing voice always echoing throughout the halls of the palace which gave you ample time to prepare for what he had in store for you.

But today was different. When you heard that his anger was more outbursts of rage than anything, you just knew that what he needed was going to be beyond his usual rough fuck until neither of you could take anymore.

You were in your shared chambers writing important letters when you heard him going on a literal rampage just a few quarters down the hall, setting your quill down with a bite to your lip as you listened.

“I am sick of you incompetent imbeciles always fucking things up around here! What the fuck is the point of having you around if you can’t do anything right!?”

The rage in his tone had your thighs clenching together and you hoped that when he made it to your chambers when he was finished his ranting that he would take those feelings of rage out on you.

“Is there anyone around here that can do anything right other than myself?! Gods, you make me want to just--” There was a short pause before one of the servants was begging for mercy, but his begging was cut short when Geta lodged his dagger into the servant’s jugular before brutally slashing his throat completely.

You heard the screams from the female servants and knew exactly what your husband had done and that act of brutality itself was what drove you to realize exactly what kind of mood your husband was in and what kind of release he was going to need tonight.

Standing from your chair, you went over to one of your ‘special’ drawers and grabbed the thick ropes from inside, before going over and neatly placing them at the foot of the bed. Then you stripped down to absolutely nothing, positioning yourself at the foot of the bed with the rope in front of you and your hands on your lap as you sat on the bottom half of your legs, patiently waiting for your husband’s arrival.

You could hear his footsteps approaching closer and closer, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth when they paused just outside the door. “What the fuck are you standing around for?! Clean that mess up or you’ll be right there with him!” He snapped at the other servants before swinging the doors to your chambers open, pausing mid step into the room when he saw you ready and waiting for him on the bed with the ropes now held up in your hands.

“I figured you need some release, my love. Care to step things up a bit this time? Take all that rage out on me and do not hold back.” You murmured as you gazed upon his blood drenched form, watching as he closed the doors to your chambers before stalking his way over to you, his pupils blown so wide that the browns of his eyes were no longer existent.

“Oh, my dear wife. At least I know you will never let me down.” He stopped directly in front of where you were knelt at the foot of the bed, his hand tightly grabbing your jaw before he was pulling you up into a heated kiss, his ring clad hand reaching around to give your ass a harsh squeeze. “I can do anything I want to you?”

“Absolutely anything.” You moaned against his mouth, your hands gripping onto his blood soaked robes as you pressed yourself closer to him. “Tie me up and have your way with me, husband.” You smiled, picking up the ropes from where they fell on the bed when he pulled you into the kiss before holding them out to him, your eyes gracefully scanning over his hard set features.

“You’re so good to me. Such a perfect wife.” He sighed as he grabbed the ropes from your hands, a smirk creeping onto his lips as an idea came to mind. “Lay down on your stomach, arms behind your back and legs spread nice and wide for me.” He commanded, watching as you obediently did as told and moved to lay on your stomach with your arms behind your back and your legs spread apart for him.

“That’s a good wife.” He had a sickening grin on his face as he started hog tying you, being sure to tie the knots extra tight. Once he finished, he leaned back to observe his handiwork, his cock completely stood at attention from the vulnerable position he had you in. “Mmmm... I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

You quickly nodded your head in response, an eager moan erupting from your throat before you glanced back at your husband, your cunt clenching at how feral his gaze was as he took the sight of you in. “Take that rage out, husband. I’m all yours to use and abuse.” You encouraged with a hard bite to your lip, humming as his thick fingers kneaded your plush ass cheeks.

“If at any point you need me to stop,--”

“I don’t want you to stop until you’re ready to stop. No matter how much I scream, how much I cry, how bruised or bloody I may get, do not stop until you’re satisfied and your anger has ceased.”

It was Geta’s turn to bite down hard on his bottom lip at your willingness to be used and abused by him, his fingers now swiping up the arousal dripping from your cunt. “So wet for me already and I’ve barely even touched you. What’s gotten you so wet, dove?” He smirked, spreading your arousal all over your pussy lips.

“Your rage, the sounds of our servants screams after you murdered one of them, the sight of you covered in their blood.” You murmured, Geta grinning sadistically behind you. You were almost as crazed as he was and that’s why he chose you to be his Empress, what made him love you indefinitely.

“And you’re only going to grow more wet once I get started.” He mused, giving your cunt a firm slap before stepping away from the bed to start removing his blood soaked ensemble of royal garments. Typically he would dispose of anything that was destroyed by blood, but now that he knew it aroused you to see him covered in someone else’s blood, he planned on keeping these garments in particular.

You listened as his footsteps retreated before hearing as he started digging through one of the drawers on the other side of the room, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sound of a whip cracking from where he stood. You knew in that moment that he had a lot in store for you and you were dripping even more in anticipation of it.

He soon made his way onto the bed to kneel behind where you were hog tied and waiting for him, his dark eyes observing the new, large wet patch on the sheets beneath you. He merely grinned at that, not speaking a word of acknowledgement about it before taking the riding crop he grabbed along with the signal whip and giving a hard whack against your awaiting cunt.

You yelped at the sudden stinging sensation to your folds, your fists clenching and toes curling where they were tied behind you. And then your eyes were springing a leak when he started laying whip after whip after whip to your cunt with the riding crop, your teeth sinking so deep into your bottom lip that it was beginning to bruise and bleed.

A pleasured sob soon erupted from your throat when he forced his entire cock inside you without warning, the feeling of being split wide open on top of the stinging from the whips to your cunt mixing right in with the pleasure coursing through you. It hurt so good and you just knew it was going to get even better once he really got started.

With one hand tightly gripping one of your bound legs and the other now holding the signal whip he first removed from the drawer, Geta began a mindnumbing pace in thrusts that pulled the most lewd mewls from your lips, the force of his thrusts so strong that the bed slammed into the wall each time his hips met your ass.

Your eyes were rolled into the back of your head as you took each pounding thrust of his cock into your already abused cunt, a high pitched cry escaping your throat when he started cracking the whip against your lower back and ass with enough force to split your skin open already.

His cock twitched inside you as blood began to bead from your wound, the sadistic desire to completely ruin you amped up tenfold from your loud cries along with the sight of you at his mercy. He was relentless with the whip, cracking it against your skin to inflict as much pain as he possibly could, but eventually even the whip wasn’t enough for him.

Momentarily pulling out of you, he quickly shushed your whine of protest with a whack of the riding crop against your cunt. “Silence! I’m not finished with you yet.” He promised with a growl, stepping off the bed to retrieve his dagger and cleansing the blade of the blood it was soaked with before returning to his position on the bed.

“So fucking needy.” He growled, taking his dagger and using it to start cutting MINE into the skin where your lower back ended and ass started, grinning devilishly as it had you letting out a pained squeal. He watched as blood seeped from those wounds now, pure sadism alive in his eyes as he gazed upon your bleeding, vulnerable form.

“I love it when you bleed for me.” He sighed deeply before leaning down to start lapping at the blood drawn out of you, earning a lewd moan from your throat while you clenched around nothing. “Do you love bleeding for me?” He inquired as he leaned back to tease the head of his cock against your red and puffy folds, stopping as he was lined up with your abused hole.

“I fucking love it.” You moaned in response, your moan growing more elongated and raspy when he forced his cock back inside you and resumed the ruthless pace in thrusts he’d previously set, your eyes rolling into your skull all over again. He was ruining you just as he said he would and you were loving every minute of it.

Geta grabbed the riding crop again, this time giving multiple hard whips against the fresh cuts he inflicted into your skin and pulling even louder cries of pain mixed with pleasure from your throat. He knew you were going to be sore later, but he would take care of you when that time came to be. “Scream for me.” He demanded, his whips to your cuts getting more harsh with each brutal thrust against your cervix.

You screamed just as he ordered, not only because he told you to but because you had no choice, the stinging and throbbing sensations so intense you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep on your back for quite a while. Despite the pain, you still couldn’t help but to clench around his cock from the pleasure of his brutal thrusts against your cervix, knowing it wouldn’t be long until your orgasm was washing over you.

“That’s it, keep screaming for me. Show me how much it hurts so good to be used and abused.” He growled, dropping the riding crop now so he could firmly grip onto each of your ankles and continue pounding his cock inside you, his head tossed back as you clenched around him even more. He was on the verge of his own orgasm, so much so that all it took was you screaming his name to push him right over that edge.

You mewled as you felt his hot seed painting your insides, continuing to clench around him to milk him for what he was worth. You were quite close to orgasming yourself, but you knew you needed a bit more than just his cock to get you there. “Please, m’so close, husband! Need to make a mess of your cock.” You whimpered, sighing in content when he lifted your hips to reach around and start rubbing your clit in tight circles, giving you just what you needed to reach your own end.

Geta growled as your cum coated each thick inch of his cock, continuing his relentless thrusts inside you and not stopping until both of you came several more times. By the time he pulled out of your beaten and bruised cunt, his own cock was red and sensitive, needing a minute to catch his breath before getting your limbs freed from their restraints.

You breathed out a long sigh of relief when you were finally able to stretch out your arms and legs, smiling when your husband started peppering kisses all over your back side. You knew he was no longer in the mindset he was in when you first got started, the gentleness of his kisses were his way of showing that.

“Are you okay, dove?” He murmured as he gently kissed your cuts, welts, and bruises, wanting to be sure you weren’t in too much pain.

“M’okay, my love. Are you okay? Are you still troubled or did this help you to get that anger out?” You smiled as you turned on your side to look at him, holding yourself up on your elbow. You could see how the browns of his eyes returned and that his face was much more visibly relaxed than it was when he first stepped into your shared chambers, which had you smiling wider.

“To be quite honest, my dear wife, I don’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.” He chuckled before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he cupped your face in his hand. “Thank you for allowing me to take my wrath out on you in such a way, you’re my perfect little pain slut.”

You giggled at that, pressing another kiss to his lips before you were cupping his face in return. “Of course, my love. I’m just happy that it helped. Any amount of pain is worth it when it comes to you.” You murmured.

“Mmm... I love you, my wife. Now let me take care of these cuts before they get infected.”

“I love you too, my husband.” You beamed, allowing him to carefully lift you up so he could carry you to get your wounds taken care of.

Fic tag list: @bugmanor @hellfireadmin @rxgirlie @anythinggoesemily @battiewattie @ajanehopper

If he needed to release his anger in a similar way at some point in the future, you would let him in a heart beat. No matter how much pain he inflicted on you tonight, you knew his love for you outweighed the desire to hurt you. For him, anything was worth it.

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