#emperor Geta fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellfire--cult · 2 days ago

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

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

wc: 14.5k

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

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

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

A reblog is better than leaving just one like.

MERCY

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because no Roman would bow to an Omega.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘SUBMIT.’

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

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

And the horns blew off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Submit. SUBMIT.’

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

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

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

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

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Submit. Submit. Submit.’

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

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

And his thumb went upwards as the crowd cheered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will prepare the medical kit–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Submit.’

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

“It seems someone ditched you, my emperor.”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

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

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

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

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

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

“No– No, don’t–”

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

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

“Don’t you dare order me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were you trying to calm him down?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. Yes, he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wants to call out for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take it…? Your vir–”

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

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

“I don’t want your throne.”

“What? Don’t you dare jester me–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And his mouth salivated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Submit.’

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

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

It felt good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I– I won’t knot you, my lord.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you turned your thumb upwards.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just for me…”

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

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

And Geta’s finger turned downwards.

the end

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

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

dividers by @saradika-graphics, banner by me.

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stardancerluv · 2 days ago

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New chapter tomorrow actually!!!

A few revisions had to be made!

What the Emperor Wants

Part Eleven

Summary: Passions are aflame but a stormy cloud rolls in.

Notes/Warning: 18+ & over, p in v sex, consensual sex, mentions & thoughts about old gods, dated thoughts on women…men, Geta shows some of his darker nature, there is a slap, and there is some angst.

This places the story, sometime before the film.

Tablinum an office like room in an ancient Roman home.

❤️s, reblogs, comments, feedback & reblogs are appreciated. Thank you for reading! 💐

A soft sound came from him. You pulled back worried, you had gone too far.

“No, do that again it feels good.

Rain came down heavy. The wind had picked ip. Lightning continued to streak across the sky, thunder rumbled loudly but it did not drown out Geta. He was as magnificent as the gods above.

The two of you had not even been able to make it to the settee. Passions had ignited. He ravaged with his slender fingers; he left no part of you untouched. The frame of the balcony did little to support you when your knees grew weak from Geta’s passion.

Soon, together you both moved to the floor. The only comfort the cold stone was the soft fabrics of your clothes and the heat the came off of Geta in his passionate state. The coolness of floor was a relief, he was hot as well stoked fire. The rain fell hard down on the two of you. You slipped and moved the best you could. You had not thought he could look so magnificent but he did.

“I need you now. Will you bid me entrance?” His breathing was harsh, his hair was wild and no longer well kept.

“Yes, Geta please I don’t think I can wait much longer myself.”

Soon, he pulled himself back. You watched as he focused himself. He reigned himself before guiding his arousal which looked bigger then and more enflamed from all the maneuvering and rubbing against each others and the fabrics. You were aching to feel him fill you once more.

A loud moan erupted from you as he slid in.

“Yes, that is all of me.” He managed between placing more of what felt like passionate nibbles on you. His breath hot.

“Make me never forget this night.” You whimpered and clutched onto him.

“That is my intention.” He managed before a moan broke his lips.

Your eyes met, a breath shattered and you both nibbled and even shared what could have passed as kisses. They were delightful.

After what he had said not a long time ago, you had never thought it would be possible.

******

The curtains flapping made you stir. Blinking, you saw that the rain was still heavy. A few of the candles must. Burned low and extinguished from the room being dimmer. Your shared passions had brought a cloak of sleep that settled over the two of you.

A gentle yet insistent knocking woke you further. That’s when you realized your position, earlier brought a smile to your lips.

*******

Geta, had rested his sweaty brow against your shoulder before the sleep had claimed the two of you. You had nestled your fingers in his fiery strands.

You had managed to make sure Geta was able to lay on a settee. When you had turned to give him room, he had refused and insisted you share the soft cushioned spot with him. One of his arms was thrown over you. His face was buried somehow into your side and one of the pillows. Based on his breathing, sleep had a deep hold on him.

“Geta, my passionate emperor there is someone who appears to need you.”

An inaudible sound came from him.

“Yes, have no respect.” You echoed what you felt the emotion was in his incoherence. It made a smile play on his lips. “You are out here for a reason.”

“Yes. You’re right.” He finally looked up at you. He was rumbled and smudged from the passions you shared. For the first time, he looked like truly a young behind the crown. Your feelings for him grew.

A knock came once again, it was sharper and louder.

“Shall I go and attend to that?”

“I don’t know, I am enjoying this moment. I am convinced my blossom might have some of Aphrodite guiding her.”

You brushed errant strands from his forehead. His eyes twinkled as they met yours. His arm tightened around you, keeping you close.

“If I let her go she may take flight like a lot of goddesses are known to do.”

“You’ve captured me.” You smiled. “I am yours but allow me to say, I do believe that even with grace of Apollo; Cupid surely has a given you the blessings of passion.”

He smiled. It was soft, didn’t make his face tight.

“If you promise?”

“I do.”

“Then go and answer, but cover your form, I do not wish to let others lay their eyes upon you.”

*******

The fabrics somehow worked and folded as they should, despite being wet. You had bot realized just how much the rain had gotten to them. They were terribly heavy.

You glanced at Geta. He nodded.

Taking a breath, you opened the door. How did make it look so easy. The torches flickered. You didn’t know who or what to expect would be standing there.

A pretorian guard, perhaps but it was Aelia.

You watched as something washed over her face. What you didn’t know. Though you were still relieved it was her.

“Aelia.” You greeted.

“The general has arrived and has asked to have an audience with Geta.”

You heard some shuffling and glancing back, you saw a scowl come over his face as he stood. He also struggled with the fabrics.

You stepped aside once he as closer.

“Tell him, I will receive him in my Tablinum.”

“Yes, Geta.” She bowed her head before properly departed but not before you felt and met her gaze.

You felt as if something shifted. A fluttering of a chill fell over you as you closed the door.

“Doesn’t he realize, I left the city for a reason?” Annoyance marred his face and his voice.

He threw the extra fabrics of his garments that were particularly soaked, across the room. You flinched as they slammed into vase, it shattered.

“I do not want to be bothered.”

You remained silent, your heart sank. You heard he had moments of rage.

He paced back and forth in what remained of his clothes. A broad golden belt was wrapped around trim his waist, some remaining fabrics flowed down his legs, stopping at his ankles.

“Anything, he wants could have waited till I returned.” His voice grew sharper.

You nodded. “Yes, Geta.” Your words barely above a whisper.

He was in front of you before you could exhale. The twinkle was gone, a fire replaced it and was there. “Did you say something?”

You kept your head down. “I was merely agreeing with you.” Your voice just above a whisper.

He brought your chin up. You winced at his rough touch.

“What have I told you?” He snarled. “Don’t you ever look away from me.”

“I’m sorry.”

You swallowed.

“He should know better.” You quickly added.

“That’s right.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at you before releasing your chin go.

“Now, go to your quarters. Tomorrow we will ride.”

“You’re dismissing me?” Your heart thudded, his sudden anger stung.

He drew close. “Yes.”

*******

Holding the fabrics and the various bits of your clothes, somehow you made it to your room. Only tripping, by grace not actually falling on the return to your room. One of the guards looked up and down as you approached your door.

“You want something?” You said before you could reign in your tongue.

“Just looking at what the emperor has taken for a concubine.”

You smacked him, the sound echoed louder than your sandals had in the hallway.

His eyes looking fierce in the light of the torches. You took a step back, you’d gone too far. He cast a large shadow over you as he drew closer.

“What are you doing with those wet clothes, we still have to get your room in order?” Aelia called from behind you.

“I was not terribly sure if I was in the right place.”

“You are. Get in there.”

Walking into your room, spotting a table, you leaned against it to calm yourself. Fear still tingled in you. Your stomach churned.

Those honey, sweet words were none you had ever heard for yourself. Sometimes, your father had spoken as kindly to your mother. Then his anger was absolutely awful and a force within itself.

“Over here is the wardrobe that holds your garments.”

You turned to Aelia. Her presence and words brought you back to your room.

“I have a wardrobe?”

“Yes, he made sure you had a selection that would serve you well here and once the two of you are back in the city.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s what has been promised to you. Look it over, I will return shortly.”

His cold detachment hurt and yet his gentleness earlier was such a sharp contrast to now. You would have to remember this; the good would be so good and the bad will be very hard.

*********

He tore off his remaining clothes. How dare he just show up. How would he like it if he just showed up and visited his wife, he raged inwardly. A foul mood fell over him.

He went over to where some of his clothes were stored. The doors of the wardrobes bounced as he tore them open.

Finding one of his robes, he slipped it on and tied the belt. Running his fingers through his hair he attempted to calm the unruly strands.

*******

Only a few torches were alit as he went down the hallways. Aelia stood by the door. He met her eyes and pressed his lips together before he opened the door to his Tablinum. Acacius’s back was to him. He could tell in light in the room he was wearing some of his finest armor.

“General Acacius? Your arrival better be important.”

The man turned sharply on his heel. Some of the armor clanked. He bowed.

“It is, the army is ready. I am taking Darius and our water fleet to finally capture the taking last of Numida.”

A smirk curled his lips. “Good. Teach those barbarians what it’s like when they entangle with Romans.”

“With pleasure sire.”

“Good.” He stepped closer to the general. “Now hear this, when I am here I do not like to be disturbed.”

He noticed despite his still respectful stance Acacius shifted how he leaned.

“Normally, a messenger would have sufficed but this is grand news. We shall take a moment and drink to the victory you will surely have.”

He looked at the doorway. “Aelia?”

On quick steps Aelia came in and poured some wine easily and handed them both a glass.

“May Mars favor you and our legionaries.” He held up the glass.

“With the grace of Mars and you, my emperor. Geta.”

“Yes.” And the glasses clinked. “May Mars accompany you.”

********

Before returning to his chambers, he went and knelt in front of the shrine he kept there. It was private, he didn’t feel like he had the prying eyes of others on him. It pleased him to see that some offerings had already been placed around it.

Closing his eyes he murmured some prayers. He felt good, strengthened. Mars had been guiding him and Acacius. Getting up, feeling good he returned to his chambers. The future was bright.

******

Aelia left, you were still looking at all the clothes and you were left lingering a glance at your bracelet that still sat on your wrist. His words from not long ago echoed in your thoughts.

You will be dressed and groomed accordingly….

Though to actually see it all, to feel it all was something else entirely. You were used to having a shift to wear when you slept and a dress that you had kept impeccable. Now, you’re had already worn one new dress and now since the new garments had arrived you were left breathless, such finery was beyond any dream or prayer you could have made.

Sleep began pulling on you. Rolling onto your back, before allowing sleep to claim you; you murmured soft words of your gratitude to the gods above for all that had been bestowed upon you.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @laura-naruto-fan1998 @helsa3942 @marrowfrog00

#joseph anthony francis quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #what the emperor wants #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta fanfic #joe quinn fanfic

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stellabk · 3 days ago

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OMG I FINALLY SAW GLADIATOR II AND LEMME TELL YOU. I HAVE SO MANY MORE IDEAS!!! GOD HE WAS FINE IN THAT MOVIE!

Also I was so confused because the first part had almost 100 likes and then parts two and three had LITERALLY none and then I realized I forgot tags so I fixed that. We love adhd.

Anywayyyssssssss

#emperor geta #emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii smut #gladiator 2 smut #gladiator ll #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #joeseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn

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ho-for-joequinn-fics · 24 days ago

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You Are Worth It

Emperor Geta x f!Reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors DNI or you will be blocked! mentions of murder, possessive!Geta, unprotected p in v smut, rough sex, slapping, choking, creampie, profanity, etc.

summary: You’ve fallen in love with one of Rome’s crazed Emperors and he with you. Your family hates it and have been plotting behind your backs to find a way to get you back home to them, but those plans change when word of mouth reaches Emperor Geta and he decides they have to be dealt with.

Emperor Geta was good to you, he treated you the way you deserved and loved you more than anyone thought possible of him. There was a side to Geta that no one else saw, a side that was only reserved for you, but with a side so hidden how could your family truly know that he could be trusted with your heart?

You were the youngest of four siblings and the only daughter to your parents. Your three older brothers were part of the Roman army and were sent out to war by Emperors Geta and Caracalla quite often. Despite their constant lingering absence, they still did their best to make sure you were safe at all costs. It wasn’t until their return from an almost six month journey that they discovered you’d been seeing Emperor Geta and now living with him.

Your brothers felt they’d failed you, but they also took their disappointment out on your parents for not trying to protect you while they were away for so long. Your dad may have been a retired soldier, but that didn’t mean he lacked the strength to protect you. No, he was just too afraid of the consequences if he even dared try to take you back from Geta’s clutches. But with your brothers back from the war, they and your parents were now plotting a way to get you back home and as far away from Emperor Geta as possible.

None of them knew that you’d been sneaking around with Geta long before your brothers’ six month absence, it was only then that you felt it was safer for you to see him publicly without the worry and fear of your brothers catching you. A big part of you hoped they’d have gotten killed while they were away, a pretty morbid thought regarding your own brothers, but your love for Geta was far stronger than the relationship you had with them.

Your parents had expressed their disappointment when they finally found out you were seeing Geta, but you didn’t let that get to you, you told them that you were in love with him and he with you and that nothing they could say would ever change that. They hated that they were losing you to someone so evil, which was why when your brothers returned from the war they decided to devise their plan to get you back and keep you away from Emperor Geta whether by force or finding a way to kill him.

A month had gone by since your brothers returned home from the war and they were discussing amongst themselves your family’s plan to kill Geta and bring you home while they were preparing for yet another upcoming journey to conquer another country the Emperors felt needed conquering. They talked about how they hoped to get the deed done before they left again for war, but one of Emperor Geta’s loyal soldiers overheard their discussion and sent immediate word to Geta who was enraged at what he was told. It was then that he devised his own plan to have your family killed, every last one of them, because only he could have you.

The same soldier that overheard your family’s plan was who Geta entrusted to do his dirty work, which was to kill your three brothers first and then take out your parents. He felt it was smarter to start with your brothers, that way your parents had no protection when they were to be killed in their sleep. Killing your brothers was easy, all their fellow soldier had to do was slip enough poison into their wine to kill them within minutes. Your parents, well they were strangled in their sleep one by one, so the deed to kill your entire family was a piece of cake.

Once Geta was made aware that your family was taken out, he found it to be the perfect time to tell you. He wasn’t sure how you were going to take the news, but something told him it wasn’t going to be an outburst of rage towards him. He found you curled up in your shared bed reading poetry, which had him smiling fondly at you as he moved to take a seat beside you, his hand reaching to take hold of yours. “My dearest girl, may we talk? I’ve got something I must tell you. It’s quite urgent.”

You looked up at him with a warm smile of your own, giving a gentle squeeze of his hand before bringing it to your lips to press a loving kiss to his knuckles. “Of course, my love. What is it?” Whatever it was, you were already mentally preparing yourself for the worst news imaginable, but either way you trusted him more than anything.

“This...may be hard for you to hear, my love, but your family was murdered last night. Every single one of them. I’m so sorry.” The look in his eyes as he stared into your own when he said this told you he had something to do with it and that he was in fact not sorry at all, you knew Geta well enough by now to know when his eyes gave him away. There were several seconds of silence between the two of you while you processed the news before he spoke up again. “Oh, I should add that it was I who put the hit on them.”

I knew it. Before you could say anything in response, he continued.

“But I need you to understand that I had to do it. It was either my life or theirs. One of my trusted men in the Roman army overheard your brothers talking about your family’s plan to have me killed so they could get you back from me. What else was I supposed to do? Lose you and my life? I could not let that happen. You are mine, you belong to me and I was not about to let anyone take you away from me.”

You melted beneath the touch of his hands when they reached out to cup your face, meeting his gaze with softened orbs and a small smile as you blinked a few times. If he was worried that you’d be mad at him, he was so far off. If only he knew that you’d been praying to the gods for something to happen to your family so you could be together without them trying to get in the middle of your relationship. “My love,” you murmured. “If you thought this news was going to upset me, then you were very wrong. I figured my family would try getting between us since they did not like you nor trust you, but I do because I know you better than them and everyone else in Rome who feels the way they did. I love you, Geta. You are worth it, you are worth losing my family for.”

“Gods, I love you.” He sighed before bringing you in for a deep kiss fueled by the pure love he had for you, one hand continuing to cup your cheek while the other wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to him. He hummed in content when you moved to straddle his lap, your thighs resting on each side of him and your arms wrapping around his neck while you pressed yourself flush against him. He felt as his cock began to stir beneath his tunic, which had him letting out a low groan into the kiss.

You felt it too, which made you smirk before you started rocking yourself against his cock to make it grow harder. “Mmmm... feels like someone’s excited.” You murmured, giving a light nip to his bottom lip before leaning back to start pushing his robe off of his shoulders, smiling when he did the same with your sleep robe after untying it.

“That’s just what you do to me, love. Can’t help it.” Geta mumbled, dipping his head down to start swirling his tongue around your nipple, earning a long sigh of content from your lips. “You know I’m insatiable for you, just as you are for me.” He took your nipple between his teeth then, giving a light nip and tug before wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard, humming as it had you arching your back to push your chest closer to him.

“Fuck. I need you. Please.” You whimpered, shifting backwards on his lap a bit so you could start pushing up the fabric of his tunic to free his cock, your hand wrapping around it and giving firm strokes up and down. You squealed when he stood up to toss you onto your back on the bed, giving your lip a hard bite as you watched him start removing the remainder of his garments.

As soon as he was naked, he crawled onto the bed and grabbed your legs to place them over his shoulders so he could force his cock deep inside you, pulling a loud scream of pleasure from your throat as the head of his cock hit you just right. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he started pounding into you, but that earned you a slap across the face before he was harshly gripping your jaw to get you to look up at him. “Eyes on me while I fuck you.” He growled out, only bringing his hand back to your thigh once your eyes were focused on him. “Atta girl.”

All you could do was moan in response, your jaw slack as you did your best to keep your gaze fixed on him, not wanting to disappoint him by disobeying his demand. Your hands found purchase on the bed where they gripped onto the bedding beneath you, your grip only growing tighter when Geta leaned forward to bend your knees until your thighs were pressed against your chest, giving him a better angle to fuck even deeper into you. “Oh! Right there! Fuck, my love, right there!”

“Yeah?” He grinned, leaning in to kiss you hard just as he started thrusting with even more force against the spot that had you unraveling the most, groaning into your mouth when your cunt started to repeatedly squeeze around his cock. “Feels so damn good when you squeeze my cock like that, darling. Keep that up.” He murmured into the kiss, his hands now holding your face while he continued his brutal yet delicious pace in thrusts. Being buried inside you grew to be Geta’s favorite place to be, especially when it had your cunt hugging his cock in the most delicious ways.

“L-love, choke me, please.” You begged with a moan as you gazed into his lust blown orbs, giving an even tighter squeeze around his length when his hand wrapped around your throat and gave a nice hard squeeze. His thrusts only faltered for a moment before he was resuming his bruising pace, his lips back on yours while he worked you both towards your releases, keeping a tight grip around your throat just like you wanted. “Yes, yes, yes, yes yes!” You chanted into the kiss, knowing it wouldn’t be long until you were creaming on his cock.

“Are you going to cum for me, darling? Make a nice big mess of my cock?” He leaned back then to watch his cock fuck in and out of you, his hand wrapped around your throat squeezing tighter so he could see the way your cunt clamped around his cock in response. Your rapid nodding of your head to answer his questions had him smirking, bringing his free hand down to press his thumb to your clit and start rubbing it in mind numbing circles. “Then cum for me.”

“Geeetaaaaaaa!” You squealed, your head thrown back and back arching off the bed as your orgasm took control of your body. You came harder than you ever have for him before, which had him letting out the most feral growl of approval when he felt just how creamy your cum made his cock. His release was only moments after yours, between the feeling of his cock so creamy and the way your walls continued clamping around him, he was done for.

His thrusts ceased once he was buried as deep into you as possible, his cock twitching as load after load of his cum spilled into you, wanting to make sure your insides were as creamy as his cock was. Your name left his lips as he came inside you, his own head tossed back as he relished in his own pleasure and the feeling of your cunt milking him of every drop he had to give. “That’s it, take every last drop of my cum.”

You leaned up to kiss him once more, your hands now grabbing his face and pulling him against you while you continued squeezing around his cock until he had nothing left to give. The two of you panted into each other’s mouths once your highs finally passed, your sweaty bodies pressed together still before he was peeling himself away from you and slowly pulling out of you to watch your mixed release drip out of your pretty little cunt. “Mmmmm...”

“Now this is a sight I will never tire of.” He mused with a long sigh of content, giving his lips a moistening lick before swiping some of your cum up with two fingers and finger fucking it back into you, grinning at the overstimulated whimper you let out in response. It was then that he finally moved your legs off of his shoulders, carefully placing them back onto the bed before moving to lay down beside you and pull you into his arms, his lips finding your temple while his hands gave soothing rubs up and down your back. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm... Perfect, actually. You never cease to amaze me, you know.” You smiled, nuzzling your face against the crook of his neck as you snuggled as close to him that you could. “Thank you. Not only for the mind blowing sex, but for loving me enough to not be afraid of having anyone who tries getting between us killed because trust me when I say, I would do the same for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Geta beamed, nudging his nose against the side of your head before pressing a kiss there. He was glad to hear you were on the same level as him, you truly were the only thing that mattered more to him than power, it’s why he was so afraid to lose you.

“Yeah. You truly are worth it, my love.”

“As are you. I love you, my sweet darling girl.”

“I love you.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are encouraged and greatly appreciated! 🥺🖤

Fic tags: @userchai @3rd-conchord @multi-culti-girl @dreamyjosephquinn @peakygirl1919

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x f!reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta smut #emperor geta #gladiator II #gladiator 2

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irrelevantwriter · 17 days ago

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An Emperor's Devotion

Pairing: Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) x Female Reader/You

Warnings: NSFW, Ancient Rome type shit, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, necessary floor sex and injury (for the plot)

Word Count: 2734

Summary: Part 3. Emperor Geta feels the need to prove a point.

A/N: Part three finds our favorite deviant emperor doing what he does best...serving cunt. And eating it. As always, there are liberties taken with Ancient Rome. We're all here for the smut anyways. And there might be a part four in the works. Maybe. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Read Part One here

*Read Part Two here

*Masterlist

***********************

The uproarious cheers of Rome eclipsed your husband’s greeting as General Marcus Acacius made his way up the palace steps.

You stood dutifully behind him, taking in the spectacle. The General and his army defeated another colony, expanding the Roman Empire once again. Another state of slaves for your insatiable lover.

“General! Welcome home! Rome celebrates in your honor,” Geta announced, taking the General’s hand. Like a good soldier, he kissed the jewels bestowed upon the Emperor’s hand.

“My greatest thanks, your highness,” Marcus replied, eyes shifting to you. “And the Empress,” he added, moving to take your own hand in his.

You let him.

He placed a stubble-laden kiss on your skin, something akin to desire crossing over his rugged features.

You smiled, accepting his greeting, though you kept your composure. You could feel Geta’s eyes on you. At the slightest indication of disloyalty, the Emperor would have Marcus’ head.

And perhaps yours.

“Welcome home, General,” you responded, taking your hand back.

Geta offered the General wine and a toast, to a new Rome. You remained at your husband’s side, watching the men talk of bloodshed and conquest. It made your stomach sour.

“A feast will be held tonight. For your victory,” the Emperor announced, jolting you back into the conversation.

“As you wish, Augustus.”

“And,” Geta started, a mischievous tone taking hold of his words. “Perhaps you might find yourself seeking the pleasures of the flesh? I offer you the best Rome has. Though I am aware you know that already. The whores love to speak of their dalliances with the finest of our Roman army.”

Marcus stiffened, gaze darting to you. You could see he was embarrassed by the Emperor’s lewd offer though he tried to hide it.

You were not naive to the thirst for women that most men held. The women of Rome did what they had to, and that often meant making themselves accessible to the men. The higher the status, the better for her. You were no better. You just happened to reach the top before anyone else.

Your husband was playing a game you were very much aware of. You tried hard to keep your amusement concealed. Seeing a usually stoic man like the General become nervous was an entertaining sight indeed.

Geta looked proud of himself. As if humiliating the General was his goal. It appeared he had succeeded.

“I-I thank you, your highness. Your generosity is astounding. Though I do not think I will need…such services,” Marcus clumsily replied, eyes landing on anything but you.

“Well, as you wish General. The offer stands,” Geta acquiesced, finally done playing with his toy. “My queen and I would love to entertain the masses, but we have business to attend to.” He reached for your hand, signaling your departure.

“Of course, your highness.”

“We will see you at dinner, General.”

And with that, Geta led you away. You followed silently, finding it strange that he was headed to your chambers and not his own.

Guards and maidens followed behind, but once you’d reached the doors of your quarters, he dismissed them. As he often did these days. He was not fond of the extra company.

He opened the door for you, letting you through. You breezed past him, making your way to the chaise and table near your balcony. As expected, wine and food awaited.

“Nearly a years time we have been married,” he started, voice deeper than just moments before. “And you are still so difficult to read.”

You smiled at that, removing the deep green palla from your shoulders. The material fluttered in the wind as it floated down to the chaise beside you.

“That amuses you?” Geta questioned, coming forward to pour you both wine. His eyebrow was raised, eyes lined with coal. They pierced you, searching for the answer to his query.

“No, Augustus. I am simply trying to understand why that bothers you so,” you replied, reaching for a grape dipped in honey.

Juices exploded in your mouth, the flavor sweet yet bitter. You took another.

“The General appears quite fond of you.”

You met your husband’s gaze, accepting the wine he offered. He stared down at you, testing you. He was playing a fool’s game.

“Most men are quite fond of me, Imperator. It’s why you chose me, is it not?”

You sipped from your glass, eyeing the man you’d married. He remained emotionless, as if thinking over your words. You, knowing where this tirade was surely headed, took matters into your own hands.

“It is rather warm.” You placed your wine down, fanning yourself against a nonexistent heatwave. “Will you bathe with me?”

Geta, stunned by your sharp change in subject, scoffed, “My conversation boring you, wife?”

You stood, meeting him where he was rooted to the ground, as if one of many statues. You reached for his mouth, surprised when he let you. You could feel how rigid he was. Something had him wound tight.

“I would rather have a different kind of conversation, my love,” you whispered, seeing surprise on his features when you rubbed honey into his lips. His tongue darted out to taste the sweetness, catching your fingertips as he did.

His eyes turned molten, his shoulders softened. His hands, as if of their own volition, grasped at you.

“Distraction is a weapon. One you seem rather fond of.”

You laughed at his words, leaning in so that his breath mixed with yours. “I am only what you want me to be. If you want me to be a distraction, then I shall do what my Emperor desires.”

He kissed you. Long and slow and sticky with honey. Your bodies pressed against each other, heat bubbling to the surface. His rings caught in your hair, yours pulled at the gold embellished tunic he wore. Frankincense and jasmine collided as you indulged in all you both had to offer.

“Dulcis distraction,” Geta breathed, chest heaving as he took in your kiss swollen lips.

“You think me sweet, my love?” You teased, making him laugh.

“The only thing sweet about you is your taste. My queen does not have the capacity for sweetness.”

He spoke with a reverence that made you shiver. And as his hands reached for your stola, you knew he was right. To be at his side, in front of all of Rome, was not for the faint of heart. You understood that. You became what was necessary to survive. You made Rome love you. You made your husband fall in love. You made him fall to your knees in pleasure.

He was at your mercy. And so was his empire.

“Come,” you beckoned softly, leading him towards your private bathing quarters.

He followed, fawning after you out of sight of prying eyes.

Steam billowed off the pool of milk and water. Flowers of every kind danced across the surface. Canisters of various oils and herbs lined the steps. One of your maidens waited in the corner and you dismissed her.

You could hear your husband start to undress behind you. You followed suit.

The water swayed as Geta walked into the warm bath. You heard him hiss, the sting of heat making him react. You laughed, letting your stola fall to your feet. He raised a hand toward you as you moved to the steps. You accepted the gesture, letting him help you into the inviting waters.

“You keep your bath much too warm for my liking,” Geta gently admonished, taking in your nude form as you submerged yourself, rose petals clinging to your skin.

“You accuse me of being a relative of Pluto. Perhaps it is true,” you teased, letting him pull you towards him.

“I say that in jest.”

He steadied you against his bare chest. Your nails raked over the muscle, tangling in the hair that rested there. It matched the trail leading down his taut stomach. A path you’d become well acquainted with in the last several weeks.

“My Emperor jests? A shocking revelation,” you mocked, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed.

His hands, while gentle at first, became demanding in their touch. He gripped your hips, releasing and then squeezing once again.

A warning.

“What has you so troubled?” You dared to ask, seeing his jaw clench. A tell.

“You.”

You cocked your head at his reply, not understanding.

“Many people covet what I have as the Emperor of Rome. I relish that,” he paused, fingers tracing up your sides. He moved in close, lips hovering over yours. “But I do not like to share.”

A shiver, a real one, ran up your spine at his words. It was a well known fact that Geta assassinated his brother Caracalla for the throne. Many agreed that his brother was unfit for such power. He was struck with a disease that affected his behavior. Behavior that had become quite outlandish. Even for the brothers. But there had been rumors. Rumors that Geta had killed him in front of their mother. A ruthless act. And for that reason, their mother had been sent away. Or so the rumors said. No one had laid eyes on her since.

It appeared, it was all true.

“Have I frightened you?” He whispered, a lone finger now tracing one of your nipples. The flesh budded at his touch.

“No, Augustus.”

“You understand my position? Why I must watch men like Marcus Acacius closely?”

You nodded, biting your lip when he moved his ministrations to your other nipple.

“Men like that would kill me and take what’s mine in an instant,” he growled, suddenly taking hold of your chin. “Would you let them?”

“No. I wouldn’t,” you breathed. For the first time since marrying him, you were afraid. But beneath the surface of that lay the quicksand of arousal that always threatened to take you down. It sat heavy in your belly, accompanied by that familiar pump of blood between your thighs.

Geta laughed at your words, as if not believing you. That didn’t stop him from taking your lips against his. His tongue invaded your mouth, twisting in invitation with your own. You desperately tried to keep up, feeling him harden beneath the water against you.

“Follow me,” he breathlessly commanded, ushering you to the steps.

You went, moving to sit at the stones edge when he gestured to do so. A chill made your skin prickle. You looked on in jealously, wishing to be back in the bath’s warmth with him.

“Do not look so sorrowful, wife. I mean to take care of you. To remind you just how generous of an emperor I can be.”

He moved closer, forcing your legs apart. You resisted at first, unsure of the angle, but he didn’t seem to care. He pressed on, hands roaming up your thighs, catching wayward petals as he did.

“Relax, my love.”

His mouth closed in, hot breath fanning over your damp curls. You struggled not to move, anticipating his touch. Needing it.

The moment his lips laid upon your skin, you cried out. The strength in your arms gave way, your hands instead tangling in his hair. His tongue wasted no time in finding your opening, sliding in easily.

He moved as you’d shown him weeks ago, his nose every so often bumping your bundle of nerves. Your nails scratched at his scalp and in return, his teeth lightly scraped over your sensitive flesh. Your thighs trapped his head, pleading with him to show mercy and praying he never stopped.

“Sweet like the honey she teased me with,” Geta murmured, adding his fingers to his torture.

You writhed, the chill no longer felt on your skin. Lust now heated your veins from the inside out, making you feel as if you were being burned alive.

“Geta…” you moaned, feeling him double his efforts at your call.

Bursts of light began clouding your vision. Your limbs convulsed as if you were possessed, cries of passion echoing off the bath walls. Geta did not stop.

“I-I cannot,” you whimpered, feeling overcome. You went to push his head away, but he was quicker, snatching your wrist.

“You can, my love. You’ll do as your emperor desires. Remember?”

His mouth and fingers took turns punishing you, pulling pleas of mercy from your lips. Geta’s name became a prayer. A prayer to the gods.

When you had thoroughly soaked his hands and chin, he relented. You felt boneless, hardly more than a corpse. Geta’s roughened laughter touched your ears, his warmth suddenly enveloping you.

Your eyes fluttered open, trying hard to focus as he wedged himself between your legs. He was hot and hard, seeking your body for relief.

His mouth found your neck and suckled, paying no mind to the stone digging into the flesh of your back.

“My name on your lips is what undoes me. It is the sweetest sound to fall from your lips.”

Without warning, he pushed himself into your flooded walls. He grunted, seizing your mouth and making you taste your release. His chin smeared it across yours, giving you no choice in the matter.

Your nails embedded themselves into his back, piercing the pristine skin. He growled, thrusting his hips that much harder. Your breath caught as he reached your depths. Depths that were once hollow but now remained full of him.

“Pleasure yourself,” he commanded.

His movements were becoming unsteady. His heart pounded against yours. He was fast approaching his peak. And since you’d shown him what it was to please you, he’d been obsessed with having you join him. He claimed it felt different. Better. Tighter. Sweeter.

Who were you to deny such a request?

Your fingers fumbled between your bodies, seeking the swollen bud just beyond your opening. Your touch caught his cock as he sheathed himself and you both moaned, the intrusion unfamiliar but welcomed.

You could sense the tension mounting in your husband. See his brow furrowing and his biceps flexing. He was the sun god above you, red tresses making a halo of light.

Your fingers found the spot you so desperately needed, circling the bud. You met his gaze, opening yourself up to him. He lunged forward, taking a nipple into his mouth. You cried out when he tugged at the appendage. His thrusts quickened, the force causing your back to scrape against the ground.

“Give yourself to me, Enchantress.”

And you did.

Geta called you his enchantress, but if anyone had magic on their side, it was him. Time seemed to stop as you both plunged headfirst into the heavens. You clung to each other, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Your skin slid against each other, limbs tangled in an orgasmic mess. Warmth filled you as his spendings made a home in your womb.

He collapsed atop you, head resting on your breasts. You welcomed the added weight, feeling grounded after you’d soared so high. Your heartbeats began to sync as your breathing slowed. Aches began to make themselves known at your back, but you paid little mind.

“Did you prove your point?” You teased, your voice raspy with latent lust.

Geta chuckled against you, shifting when you began to play with his hair.

“I think I did if your backside is any indication,” he quipped, reaching to grab what he could of said backside.

You let him touch and grope you as he pleased, feeling him go soft inside you. Even then, he didn’t remove himself. He was superstitious about such things. Like every emperor before him, he yearned for an heir. He made sure you were aware of that fact.

“I would not let them harm you, Augustus,” you finally said.

He stiffened, understanding the meaning behind your words. He raised himself above you, smears of coal painting his face.

“Out of fear or love?”

“Both.”

He accepted your answer.

“And you? Would you let them harm me?” You bravely pressed.

He was silent for a moment, taking in your body beneath him. A small curve of his lips was the only indication of a smile.

“I spend most days ensuring no harm comes to you, my love.”

You cupped his cheek, feeling wayward drops of his seed begin to leak from your depths.

“Out of fear or love?” You countered.

“Devotion.”

And looking into his eyes, that’s all you needed. Empires and men alike had fallen for less.

Part Four

#emperor geta #gladiator 2 #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fic

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storiesaplenty · 12 days ago

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Miscellaneous Masterlist

Imagine if you will, the two Emperors are vying for your attention.

They rained gifts after gifts upon you, from fabrics, to jewels.

They have thrown parties in your honour.

But you just can't decide between the two, and you tell them.

Since the two have shared their whole lives, they end up arguing between themselves about who deserved your hand.

But you remind them that you can be with both, as you kiss each of them.

That night was the first night you slept with the both of them.

Each of them taking turns to fuck you.

Seeing who can make you cum the most.

From eating you out, to fingering you.

You finally passed out while Geta was fucking you.

You would spend each day with one of them between your legs.

Or you would be riding them on their throne as the other one watched, until one day you had a plan.

"I want both of you in me." You told them.

"How?" Questioned Emperor Caracalla.

"Let me show you."

You know how to prepare for this as you talked to one of the many whores that you know personally from growing up on the streets of Rome.

Emperor Caracalla was below you, and Emperor Geta was behind you, making you gasp at how full you are.

How much they are stretching out your poor, abuses pussy.

Fucking you at different paces.

But you didn't care.

Not when it feels like they are truly are Gods among men, as they pull orgasm after orgasm from your poor body.

Emperor Geta cums first, his hips rutting against your ass as he fills you.

Emperor Caracalla laughs at his brother finishing first, before he grips your hips tight and moaning your name as you cums.

Him fucking up into you, forcing your combined juices to leave your body as he does.

You collapse on top of Caracalla, him rubbing your back as they both leave your body.

"Are you alright?" Geta asked, as they both looked concerned, and they never are concerned about anyone.

"Mmmm, let's do it again, but after we nap." You told them, already falling asleep.

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getaandlucius · 17 days ago

Text

A brief taste of honey (Lucius x Geta)

This is a story of two men, of rage, war and eventually: love. Inspired by Gladiator 2 characters Geta and Lucius.

Summary of part 1: Former emperor Geta survives but falls now under Lucius' regime. An unexpected story unfolds.

Part 2 in the making.

Warnings: angsty, severe emotional and physical (dis)stress, mentioning of war, battle and injury, mentioning of nudity.

"I want Geta brought to my private study later this evening," Lucius told the guard at the main entrance as he made his way to the baths. "Unscathed." He added. Guard Laurentius frowned slightly, then gave a quick nod. "Yes Dominus."

"Thank you." Lucius replied as he proceeded his walk toward the bath house.

As he reached the steamfilled rooms he noticed with glee that they were empty, the water rippling softly as he lowered his naked body into the warm water. Lucius, a shy man by heart enjoyed these quiet moments by himself, washing off the dirt and sweat of the day in the clean water while listening to the soft hustle and bustle of the voices outside. His mind drifted from the battle, to his mother, to former emperor Caracalla who had tried to escape his emprisonment this morning, and finally settled on Geta, who was being taken from his cell at this very moment.

He and his brother had been captured after having been defeated after the battle, a few days prior. The erratic minds of the twins were not to be trusted, yet killing them just because they were able to, did not fit the new ways Lucius was working to introduce. No, surrendering them to the new judicial ways was much more fitting of the modern times ahead. He dipped his head in the water, submerging his dark curls, letting gravity pull him under fully and stayed there a moment before coming up for air again. He pulled his tired body out of the bath and after drying off and pulling a thin cotton tunic over his head, he walked through the halls toward his private chambers.

His two guards stepped aside to let him enter and then pulled the door shut behind him.

Former emperor Publius Septimius Geta was kneeling in the middle of the empty room, his head bowed. The fading evening light behind him illuminated his honey-colored curls, turning them almost auburn, crowning his head and shielding his face from view. His wrists were bound behind his back, and his white tunic was slightly smudged from the dirt in the cells. The air of chaos and power once rippling off him in waves had long disappeared, leaving a young feeble man with no ways to defend himself.

"Geta," Lucius said as he approached, his eyes sweeping over the kneeling prisoner. There was no reaction, no acklowledgement of his pressence.

"Please lift your head when I speak to you Publius," Lucius ordered calmly, stopping just before him.

Geta lifted his head, his hair falling back to reveal the delicate features of his face. The makeup was gone, but his skin seemed equally pale, and the circles under his eyes were just as dark. Lucius noted that he had not slept. Geta avoided his gaze, staring somewhere in the distance, his face as still as a blank sheet of paper. There was no movement, no sign of life. He knelt like a man already half-dead, seemingly struggling even to do that.

Geta opened his mouth but then closed it again. His unfocused eyes remained hazy, like fog.

Lucius stepped closer, close enough to place a hand on the back of Geta’s head. His fingers slid into the curls, pulling gently to tilt his face upward. Then his hand moved forward, tracing the line of his jaw before slipping down and wrapping softly around his throat.

Surely, Lucius thought, he would provoke some reaction by touching such a vulnerable spot.

But there was nothing.

It was as though Geta wasn’t there. The absence of life in his eyes was disturbing, his body was as pliant as a doll in Lucius’s hands.

He was convinced he was to be killed this very moment, Lucius realized. A weak animal surrendering, exposing its belly, wishing for the end to come quickly.

Lucius frowned. Where was the fight? The pleading? The begging for mercy?

Geta’s head grew heavier in his hand. It annoyed Lucius, but it also surprised him. He expected tantrums to be thrown, scratching nails and biting teeth. But there was only quiet yielding. Then suddenly Geta cleared his throat, the vibration rippling through Lucius’s fingers.

"Where is my brother?" Geta asked solemnly.

"I do not know," Lucius replied honestly. "He tried to run earlier this afternoon, stabbed a guard in the eye and made it to the gate. My men have him. I have not yet heard back from them. Now that you mention it, I should have heard something by now." He added pensively. Geta made a soft sound in the back of his throat that he could not place. Lucius sighed and grasped Geta’s chin, tilting his face higher. "Look at me."

Geta’s eyes opened.

"I’m not going to kill you." He said simply, looking Geta straight in the eyes.

Geta remained silent, his lips slightly parted. His eyes flickered between Lucius’s, and a faint line formed between his brows.

He sucked in a breath. "Why not?" He asked, confusion lining his voice.

"I have some political reasons I do not wish to go into now." Lucius explained. "Aside from that, you will fall under the new regime. It is not formed yet, but it will be. And you will get a trial."

"Trial?"

"Yes. You will wait until the new council is formed. Then you’ll have a fair trial, to show the people that even men like you are granted a fair judicial proceeding." Lucius shook his head briefly. "Or should I say boys like you," He added, raising a shoulder, "Given the way you have ruled and acted—like a child." Geta frowned slightly at the stern tone, clearly not used yet to be speaken to in such a manner, and clamped his mouth shut. He averted his gaze. Lucius eyes remained where they were. "After the trial, you will likely be exiled but this is yet to be decided."

Geta gave a small nod, straightening his shoulders slightly. Complete surrender gave way to tension, like a loose thread being pulled taut. Lucius could feel the shift in the quickening pulse beneath his fingers and the faint ripple of the delicate muscles in Geta’s trapezius.

Geta inhaled, looking ashen suddenly, as if he were about to be sick.

"Let me go," he uttered softly.

Lucius let his hand fall to his side, not sure why he was so quick to obey his command and watched as Geta stood shakily. Then he saw him bringing a hand to his stomach before doubling over and collapsing forward, vomiting the little that remained in his stomach.

Lucius chuckled softly, remembering the countless times he’d gotten sick when he first started entering the arena. It made sense: the intense fear of death, followed by the relief of being alive a little longer, often worked heavily on the body.

Without another word, Lucius turned on his heel and left the room, ordering one of the guards to help clean up the mess and return him to his cell on his way out.

Please don’t share any of my works without my permission. Thank you kindly!

#lucius #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #lucius x geta #hanno x geta #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #paul mescal fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #geta fanfiction #lucius fanfiction #gladiator fanfiction #abrieftasteofhoney #emperor geta fanfiction #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #story

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inknopewetrust · 3 days ago

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#eddie munson x reader #dean winchester x reader #Sam winchesters x reader #pedro pascal x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #Steve Harrington x reader #arcane x reader #stranger things #supernatural #destiel #castiel x reader #emperor geta x reader #marcus acacias x reader #Joel miller x reader #fic writer #fanfic writers #fanfic writer

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multific · 27 days ago

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Love Beyond History

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: All husbands must love their wives. The Emperor was no exception.

In the magnificence of Ancient Rome, there existed a love story that defied expectations.

It revolved around Emperor Geta, a notorious figure known for his insatiable thirst for blood in the gladiator games, and his beloved wife, a gentle soul who despised violence.

As the sun cast its golden glow upon the Colosseum, Geta and his wife, you, found yourselves surrounded by a roaring crowd, eagerly awaiting the sensation that unfolded before you.

Gladiator games.

The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of sweat mixed with the metallic smell of blood.

While Geta enjoyed the brutality of the games, you struggled to moderate your own emotions with the darkness of said games.

Amidst the clamour and the rising heat, you felt a wave of sickness washing over you. You were sitting beside Geta, his brother watching from his own chair.

The sight of blood and the overbearing atmosphere became too much for your heart to bear.

Your face paled, and your breathing grew shallow.

As if sensing your distress, Geta turned to you.

With a concerned look, Geta gently took your shaking hand in his own.

He led you away from the frenzy, finding comfort in a secluded corner where the noise of the Colosseum was muted and it was a bit colder.

His voice, soft and soothing, whispered words of comfort and love into her ear.

"My Darling. It is probably way too hot for you, and also the blood. I know how much you dislike it."

"Geta. I'm sorry." you whispered as you finally felt like you could breathe.

"No need for it. I only wished for you to share the same love for the games as I do. But I see it now, this really is not for you."

"I'm truly sorry." Moved by his tenderness, you looked into his eyes, realizing the depth of his affection.

At that moment, Geta sealed his devotion with a tender kiss on your forehead.

It was a gesture that spoke volumes, an affirmation of his love for you.

As the night arrived in Rome, Geta and you retired to your chambers after dinner.

The flickering candlelight danced upon your faces, illuminating the room with a warm glow.

It all filled your heart with such happiness.

You believed, that in this room, you were only a wife and a husband, nothing less, nothing more.

No Rome, no power, no titles.

Just a man and a woman.

Geta, captivated by the beauty and kindness in you, watched you as you peacefully slept.

The Emperor rolled onto his side watched your face in the candlelight as you faced him.

Overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions, he was awestruck by the fortunate turn of fate that had brought you together.

Even if it wasn't fate. It was all him.

His selfish nature declared you as his wife the moment your eyes met his.

But in that moment, he realized that his love for you had transformed him. Softening the edges of his bloodthirsty nature and revealing a gentler side.

With a heart full of appreciation, Geta whispered silent words of adoration into the night.

He vowed to cherish you, to protect you from the darkness that lurked beyond the chambers.

And so, your love story continued to unfold, defying the expectations of a bloodthirsty emperor and his gentle wife.

It was the kind of love that exceeded history.

People the upcoming centuries learned about the brutal Emperor Geta and his beloved wife.

Truly a love story worth learning about.

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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lovebugism · 22 days ago

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✶ ┄ HOLY GRAIL !

part one | part two

summary: in ancient rome, where survival is determined by the whims of a mad ruler, the empire's beloved general gives you – his first and only love – to the crazed emperor to ensure your safety. (6k)

pairing: marcus acacius / fem!reader, emperor geta / fem!reader

contents: established relationship, strangers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of war and violence, mentions of sex work, swearing, smut 18+ (dubcon, m receiving oral, unprotected sex, cuckholding, exhibitionism) (this is a pretty dark fic so pls heed the warnings!!!)

Marcus Acacius was the name on the lips of a thousand fallen empires. His ledger ran a deep scarlet color, which dripped like proof from his sword. The war had destroyed the General over the years — had turned the man into an empty thing filled only by untamable ghosts. The relentless battle had wrung his boyhood from his body like a slow, merciless death. Any remaining innocence has since been replaced with violence.

Rome made a legacy of his grotesque evils, turned him into a saint. Marcus Acacius did not want to be a saint. He did not want to be angry; he did not want to be cruel. He only wanted to love and to be left alone with his tenderness. His mouth filled with blood instead.

You loved him like all doomed, grotesque things are meant to be loved. In the dark. In the shadows of war. In the depths of the soul.

“This is me,” he confesses, the great General Acacius, returning to you like a ghost to its haunt. “This is who I am.”

His golden armor is sullied from a victorious battle, tainted now with blotches of soil and dried blood that’s not his own. His dirtied, unholy fists tremble at his sides as he fights the urge to cross the threshold of your quarters to meet you. Marcus knows he doesn’t deserve to be held by you now. Not when he still wreaks of death.

He can still feel the breath of a fist on his bruised cheek, but the way his sword felt plunging through the beating heart of an enemy soldier plagues him most of all.

“Love turned on me long ago— It is not a burden I compel you to carry.”

So, please, do not love me, he doesn’t say. I only know how to destroy you.

You smile at him, eyes soft with sympathy, and cross the threshold of longing with an admirable effortlessness. You cradle his weathered, war-torn face in your palms, willingly staining your delicate hands with the blood stained there.

“I love you despite. So I imagine I’ll carry it anyway,” you coo to him, gentle eyes locked firmly with his heavy ones. “And I’m certain you love me in return, regardless of what you think the siege has made of you.”

“There is naught I can do about it,” Marcus admits, words heavy with choked-back emotion. He melts into your touch but continues to deny himself the want to hold you back. “Not while I still oversee this campaign. Not while there is a war to be won—”

“We love each other, don’t we?” you interject, pleading eyes searching for emotion behind his dark, stoic gaze. Marcus swallows hard. His scruffy chin scrapes your palm as he nods once in response. You grin and say the unforgiving truth out loud. “So fuck the war.”

You pull him down by his face to press a kiss to his unclean lips. Marcus rests his shaking hands over your waist and lets you build cathedrals in his mouth with your tongue. The blood in his teeth turns to holy water.

Marcus long understood that bringing you to the city would be his last act of love.

Keeping you in the heart of Rome was the only way he could ensure your safety, with the surrounding towns still under merciless siege. The people there were docile, and loyal most of all to the General who had won them a thousand wars. They would not hurt you because it was not in their kind too, and because they feared General Acacius’ wrath as much as they respected his mercy.

This was known to everyone in Rome except its Emperors.

Geta and Caracalla ruled together following their father’s untimely demise but shared not a brain between them. They were boys, after all, the oldest being hardly two-and-twenty –– it was in their nature to talk more than they listened, and to pretend as if they knew the world despite never leaving the city walls.

They were as cruel and as stupid as anyone who wished to rule an empire would be.

But the two of them relied heavily on their General to keep the restless public at ease. It made it easier for Marcus to bring you with him, knowing he had the trust of the most powerful men in Rome. He knew Geta kept meticulous care of his most precious gifts — all Marcus had to do was get you there, really, and the Emperors would do the rest for him.

It was simple, but it was not easy; though he imagines no war ever has been or would be. Both of you had survived, yes, but neither of you had been spared. Bringing you here was a testament to that, which you seemingly could not comprehend. You were as soft and green as the countryside he plucked you from, too naive for politics.

Marcus tells himself that this was the merciful decision, anyway, as he gives you a tour of Caracalla’s labyrinthine gardens — the place farthest from the feasting hall where the noblemen dined. Hidden behind climbing leaves, free from prying eyes.

“I can’t imagine why you would be so apprehensive in bringing me here. It’s beautiful,” you marvel aloud as you walk ahead of the man guiding you.

Your sandals pad faintly along the cobbled trail as you skim your palm over the bed of blooming roses. The petals feel like silk against your skin. You pluck one from the soil, careful to avoid its thorns, and hold it up to your nose. You turn to face Marcus with the crimson flower resting on your cupid’s bow.

“And it smells better, too,” you quip softly, tilting your head to your shoulder as you smirk behind the budding rose.

Marcus just barely manages to bite back his own grin until you reach out for him, tapping the delicate flower against the bridge of his strong nose. He exhales hard through his nostrils in place of a laugh.

Your giggling comes carried on the breath of a warm summer breeze — a symphony of salty ocean, dainty florals, and the pretty oils you’d bathed in. The wind billows through your thin, white gown and creates music with rustling leaves. You squint one eye when the setting sun peeks through the swishing tree limbs, bathing you in a golden-hour aura.

You’re as beautiful as sin. Sweeter than death. Smiling at him like this is the beginning of something that died the moment you entered the city walls.

Marcus clears throat and gently guides your hand away. His cautious eyes flit around the vacant garden. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder, you find, despite being the strongest man in all of Rome. You feel safest at his side, so you don’t know why he always looks so frightened.

“I know you are drunk on youth and immortality, petal, but we cannot get ahead of ourselves,” he advises, all stiff and stern, though the term of endearment spills effortlessly from his mouth. “We’re in the city now. So we must play the part. Like we discussed.”

He speaks to you with an unintentional sort of vagueness that makes you bow your head like a scolded child. Your arm falls limp at your side. A scarlet petal slips from its stem and hits the unforgiving stone.

“I know,” you murmur with a poorly hidden frown that conveys otherwise. Your sheepish gaze flits from the ground to Marcus’ unwavering stare and to the ground again. “I just thought— whenever we were alone, that we might—”

“We aren’t alone. We must behave as though the city is full of eyes. Understand?”

“I can’t,” you confess, peering up at the General from beneath your lashes.

Marcus’ chest stings, like the fiery sun blazing his newly-fashioned armor. “What do you mean you can’t?” he bites emotionlessly.

He looks like a corrupt sort of angel in this light, unnaturally handsome and hopelessly wartorn. He was as hard as the earth below your feet — a statue made of clay, iron, and marble — cold to the touch and melting only for you.

His heavy eyes were so brown they looked almost black, and they shone with a perpetual sort of gloom. His gaze swam with the prophetic darkness of a man who’s seen too much, though you often felt like you could drown in its void. For a man so adept at killing, he looked at you with a remarkable softness.

It wasn’t as shallow as physical desire. It was something far more cruel. You wanted Marcus Acacius the same way flesh wanted to knit itself together over a healing wound. It was simply in your nature to love him.

“I mean, it’s impossible,” you ramble with a concerned furrow to your brow. Your grip on the flower’s papery stem tightens until the bulb rattles with the force. “How am I to be here with you but not touch you? That’s like asking the seasons not to change— It’s unnatural, and it’s cruel—”

Marcus swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His hands begin to ache with the urge to touch you. He balls them into fists instead.

“It’s the only way I know to keep you safe!” he confesses, words sounding heavy in his mouth. His eyes flit across the garden in a paranoid search of something that isn’t there. “Emperor Geta will take care of you. I know he will. And his brother is a half-wit, but he is kind when he wishes. He’ll take a liking to you, I’m sure of it—”

You interject his anxious rambling with a stubborn shake of your head.

“I can’t be someone else’s,” you murmur, voice as wet as the tears glittering in your wide-eyed gaze. “I don’t know how.”

“You will learn,” Marcus tells you with an emotionless stare. Not because he’s sure you will, but because he knows you have to. “For me.”

Your pretty features swirl with anguish. “Marcus…” you whisper his name in a feeble whimper caught in your throat.

He does not soften at your emotion like you’re used to. He’s practiced apathy for so long that it comes naturally to him now. He bites his tongue to keep from kissing you and lets the blood stain his teeth all over again.

“If not for your own sake, then for mine. The Emperors would have my head if they understood the pretenses I brought you under.”

You flinch at his words, perhaps finally understanding the weight of the unforgiving world in which you live. The surest example of such cruelty stands before you now, in the only man you ever loved now using your purest devotion as a means to keep you pliant. But your anger for the merciless arrangement is long eclipsed by your yearning.

“Then I will,” you tell him, rigid with a glacial disposition Marcus hasn’t seen before now.

The choices here were few. Either you were slaughtered outside the city walls by soldiers and pillagers, or you were slaughtered within them — in the metaphorical sense that burns physically in your chest now.

Being without Marcus feels like a fate worse than death, but you want him so desperately to live. So much so that you’ll fall on the sword of your longing and bleed out at his feet. Knowing that you’re under the same sky would have to be enough for you.

You can’t tell which it is — sacrifice or self-slaughter — but Marcus knows it isn’t as poetic as all that.

Death is death.

Emperor Geta staggers drunkenly down the spiral stone steps of the west wing of his castle. The path to his chambers is illuminated by several dwindling torches hung along the brick walls. The subtle squeaking of his leather sandals sounds much louder in the quiet — filled only by crackling flames, a distant dripping noise, and the song he slurs under his breath.

The latter ceases suddenly when he stumbles to a stop at the sight of General Acacius. The man stands like a statue outside his bedroom door — arms crossed behind his back, old spine perfectly straight — like the obedient guard dog he is.

The thought makes the Emperor’s lips curl into a crooked smile. “What are you doing here, dog?” he calls to the General as he approaches him, voice echoing down the soulless corridor.

“Your nameday present, your majesty—” Marcus answers and tries not to make a face when the Emperor stands before him. The bittersweet scent of wine stains his breath, overwhelmingly so. Geta was never one to practice temperance. “—I was told to see that you got it.”

The younger man hesitates. “From my uncle?” he wonders aloud.

Marcus nods wordlessly in response.

Geta pauses for a moment. His wide, glassy eyes flit over the General’s shoulder to the arched doorway behind him. His stomach swirls at the thought of what may lie inside. The last nameday present his uncle sent from overseas was a monkey his younger brother has grown much too attached to.

“Well… What is it?”

Marcus swallows hard and steps aside. “Look inside, your majesty.”

Geta takes a deep breath in and swings the creaking door open. His bedroom is lush with crimson silk and golden candlelight, familiarly fragranced with cinnamon and sweet myrrh. It’s accompanied by something foreignly floral, a feminine rosy-lavender that catches his attention before his eyes ever find you.

He steps through the threshold and finds a strange girl standing by the window, before a platter of fruit and wine — bathed half in the silver beams of a full moon, and half in flickering orange flames.

White silk adorns your frame, so delicate it’s nearly see-through. One of your shoulders is mouthwateringly bare, and there’s a slit in the fabric that rises to your hip. You look as pure as a dove, though you’re so obviously built for sin.

The ground sways beneath Geta’s unsteady feet.

You crunch audibly into an apple before you realize anyone’s there. The juice runs down your chin before you swipe it away with the back of your hand. Only then do your eyes lock with the Emperor’s, who seems equally stunned to see you there. You tense and say nothing as you hide the bitten fruit behind your back.

“It’s a woman,” Geta observes to no one in particular, though his dark eyes have not yet wavered from yours.

Marcus stands behind him and nods — hands still clasped behind his back, heart still pounding against his ribcage. “Yes, your majesty. In plain terms.”

“Well,” the Emperor glances over his shoulder. “What does she do?”

“Whatever you want,” the General answers, though the words taste like vinegar on his tongue. He swallows the bitterness down like bile and leers at you, looking upon his lover as though she were a stranger. “You need only ask.”

Geta, satisfied by his answer, turns back to you. His initial surprise has ebbed into something more pleased, diabolically so. His pink lips curl into a sneer as he walks slowly towards you, eyeing you up and down with curious eyes — a predator stalking its prey.

“Is that true?” he asks you, voice ringing through the quiet room. “Or is he confusing you for a dutiful hound?”

“A dutiful whore, your majesty,” you correct with an acquiescent smile, following the story as Marcus intended.

The half-truth comes easily to you. Not a lie exactly, but not the whole tale either. You’d spent many of your years working in a brothel on the outskirts of Rome. You were a young woman, unmarried, without family or viable prospects — whoring seemed the most obvious decision then, though it feels so long ago now.

You’d waited your whole life for something, for Marcus, though you hadn’t expected it to kill you when you found it. You won’t die a saint if the crazed Emperor decides to take your head, but perhaps you could be a martyr. Perhaps that’ll be enough.

Fear beats through your body like a second heart, but your eyes never waver from the Emperor’s. It’s easiest to meet his gaze. He feels more like a human that way.

There are flecks of gold in his dark eyes, and dark strands in his gold hair. He’s got stubble on his long neck, spots on his broad nose, and wrinkles on his forehead. Not quite as perfect as the pristine white-gold armor would let on.

His eyes flit down your form once more. Something sparks in the deep brown of them, a flicker of silent realization. He spins suddenly on the heel of his sandal to flash Marcus an accusatory glare.

“Is she your whore, General?” he lilts into the heavy silence. His brows raise when he receives no answer from the man across the room. “The question was not rhetorical, Acacius.”

“No, your majesty. She is not mine,” Marcus answers, then clears his throat when the words get stuck there. It’s like he’s plunging a knife through his own heart. He can feel the cold sting of the sharpened blade and the burn of the blood on his skin. “Though, I don’t believe whores belong to anyone.”

A boyish chuckle spills from the Emperor’s mouth. “No. They don’t,” he says with an airy giddiness. “Not before now, anyway—”

Geta spins back again, pleated skirt fanning around his pale thighs. His smile fades with an eerie swiftness. “What are you waiting for? Undress,” he commands with a wave of his ringed hand.

Your wide eyes flit instinctively past him to Marcus, who still idles in the doorway. Only then does he realize how long he’s been staring at you. He forces himself to glance off in another direction, but his gaze keeps finding yours — like a magnet, or a planet with its own gravitational pull.

Your eyes lock, and the only thing you hear is each other, though neither of you has spoken a word. This is the only way, you hear his voice in your head as clearly as your own. This is the only way to stay together. The only way to survive.

Geta mistakes your fear.

“Don’t worry about him, little dove,” he coos, and taps the bottom of your chin with his fingers — as soft and petaled as your own. He smiles when your attention turns to him again, speaking loud enough for the General to hear. “He’s only the guard dog. And good boys get scraps, don’t they, Acacius?”

Marcus’ face screws like he’s tasted something sour. He’s grateful the Emperor isn’t looking at him to see it. “They do, your majesty,” he monotones.

“So you will watch. And report to my uncle how his lovely present fared,” he calls to the older man, though his eyes remain locked with yours. You tense when his pale hand reaches suddenly for your face. He holds your cheeks in his fingers until your lips jut in a soft pout. “Let’s hope I don’t have to send him back your head, little dove.”

He says it with an absentminded effortlessness, as though it’s something he’s done before.

Still, you manage a small smile and blink up at him with innocent eyes. “What good is a dead whore, your majesty?” you quip.

Geta’s grin widens. “Precisely. Now undress.”

You reach for the singular sleeve of your slip with trembling fingers. Your right hand sweeps across your left shoulder, skin blazing with fear and anticipation. The fabric trails down down down your arm before falling to your feet in a puddle of milky white silk. Your bare body glows silver and gold between moonlight and flame.

Goosebumps pebble over your skin despite the humid summer night as Geta circles you like prey. His eyes trail slowly down your form in time with his rhythmic steps. The sound of his sandals scrapping the stone floor, crackling candlelight, and subdued breathing are the only sounds in the quiet room for several long moments.

The Emperor disappears behind you, and you forget how to breathe. Your wide, wet eyes find Marcus once more — pleading, though for what, you cannot say. His face reveals nothing but wrath burns in his gaze.

Geta reappears at your right side. You smell grape wine on his breath when he nears you, breathing heavily through his mouth as he reaches out to touch you. His ringed hands smooth over your collarbone. Your breath catches in your throat. He smiles as though your fright pleases him.

“You’re skittish for a whore,” he muses, playful in a way that makes your stomach wrench. “Are you sure the General didn’t bring me a virgin?”

You swallow hard as his hand trails down your body. Over the swell of your breast, skimming his thumb over your taut nipple, before tracing the expanse of your ribs. His fingers run down your stomach and past the thatch of hair between your legs. They dip finally between your thighs.

Geta hums a faint moan at the velvet feeling of your pussy. The way your lips part for his fingers, silky skin warm and wet to the touch.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, your majesty,” you answer, breathing hard through your nose when he pulls his hand away — a warmth you find yourself begrudgingly grieving.

“I need only ask…” the Emperor coos, running his middle and pointer finger over your bottom lip. They shine with the honey you leak despite yourself. Your mouth parts, and he rests the pads of them on your tongue. “…Do I not?”

You nod wordlessly through the salty fingers in your mouth, trying to imagine their Marcus’.

Geta smiles when he parts from you. “Undress me,” he demands.

You work at his tricky armor with nervous hands and bated breath.

You unclasp his cape first. The white fabric, now free from its chain, falls heavily to the floor behind him. Your fingers have gone noticeably clammy as they struggle with the sleeves of his tunic. It takes you a beat too long to loosen the laces at his shoulders. The cloth falls finally and puddles around his feet, leaving his lean body on display before you.

His torso is lean and mostly hairless, save for splotches of chestnut on his sternum and stomach. His skin is smooth and flushed from the alcohol. His stomach is slim but noticeably full. The Emperor is well-taken care of, though his subjects outside the keep suffer from the consequences of war.

Your trembling fingers curl around the hem of his loincloth. His pale skin is warm to the touch, boiling with desire while you freeze over with fear. You crouch before him as you drag the garment down his scruffy thighs. You hear Geta sigh above you when his half-hard cock meets the cool summer night air.

He’s paler there compared to the rest of his golden body, though the mushroom tip glows a faint strawberry-red color. A vein trails in jagged lines to the base of his heavy cock, fading as it reaches the thatch of dark blonde hair at his pubic bone. He’s not nearly as thick as Marcus, though not many people could hope to be — but he is long and thin and soft like velvet.

“How do I look?” Geta wonders as he steps out of his loincloth. He tilts his chin to his chest to peer down at you, on your knees to untie the intricate laces of his sandals. You blink up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Without my armor,” he adds, then repeats. “How do I look?”

You realize, then, that he wants your praise. Though you’re unsure why, you’re not in any position to deny him of it. “You’re a— a very handsome man, your majesty,” you respond cautiously, with a wavering smile.

You hear his breath catch at the compliment. The corner of his mouth flickers upward, and his nostril flares as he takes a deep breath in.

“Well, go on, then,” he insists suddenly, nodding his head to egg you onward. “Good whores don’t keep their masters waiting, do they? You don’t want to see me impatient, little dove.”

You wrap his stiff cock in a tentative fist, averting your gaze as you give an experimental kitten lick to the bulbous, strawberry tip. Your tongue swipes away the pearlescent pre-cum beading there. The salty tang is foreign on your tongue, sweeter and thicker than you’re used to.

You imagine your lover when you take the Emperor’s cock in your mouth. A practiced form of dissociation that comes naturally to you now.

You focus on the way the stone floor digs into your knees as you cup his balls in your hand — a desperate attempt to finish him quickly. Geta shudders when you swallow him whole, burying your nose in the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock. His head tips back as he groans at the ceiling.

“You are a proper whore…” the Emperor moans with a delirious smile. He tilts his flushed cheek to his freckled shoulder to sneer at Marcus, then frowns when his eyes meet the back of him. “Are you distracted, General?”

The man keeps his back turned and his eyes trained on the wall, counting the bricks there to distract his racing mind. His mouth snarls at the Emperor’s words. His hands ball into fists as he fights to keep his composure.

“Just giving you your privacy, your majesty.”

“Nonsense!” Geta laughs, loud. “You should watch! You should observe— so you know what to tell my uncle.”

Marcus can hear the mischievous lilt in the younger boy’s voice. Like it’s all just a game to him. Like you’re just a whore to be played with, and like Marcus’ only hope of companionship is warfare. Both might’ve been true once, but not since you find each other.

The general smacks his lips against his teeth. “As you wish,” he deadpans and spins on the heel of his sandal.

He’s strangely grateful to find the Emperor’s body obscuring your own. Geta’s lean, pale form towers over your kneeling one — back muscles flexing, hips thrusting, fingers knitting in your hair.

But Marcus can still hear the sounds of your mouth on the other man’s cock. The room fills with heavy breathing, wet noises, and the Emperor’s unabashed whines. Embers of envy burn in the General’s empty chest. A wildfire of want and wrath rages behind his ribcage.

You swallow with Geta’s cock in your throat and squeeze softly at his balls. You hear his breath hitch just before a lengthy moan spills from his parted mouth. Several loads of salty cum spit down your throat a second later. The man shows you little mercy as he holds you by your hair, keeping your nose pressed to his pubic bone. You take shallow breaths through your nose and try not to choke.

You pull off of him when he lets you go. A string of saliva threatens to keep you connected. You take a deep breath in and swipe at your swollen mouth with the back of your hand, staying on your knees while the Emperor tilts his head back. He exhales a breathy laugh of relief at the ceiling. You peer up at him with wide, wet eyes, still so uncertain of your fate.

“Proper whore, indeed,” Geta muses, almost to himself, as he drops his heavy head once more.

His flushed chest sparkles with a foreign feeling at the sight of you beneath him — eyes teary and fearful, lips swollen and rosy, features flushed with sweat and sex. His cock jerks, still sensitive but threatening to harden again. He grips himself with a loose fist.

“On the bed,” he instructs suddenly, then grins madly at your shock. “You didn’t think I was done with you, surely. Not until I mount you like a mare, anyway— Treat you like the bitch in heat you are…”

Geta cups your warm cheek in his free hand. His touch is strangely gentle as he cradles you there, right before he smacks gently at your jaw to urge you upward.

Your bare feet pad towards the bed, then. Geta swats your ass as you go and laughs when you squeak in response. You fight the urge to look at Marcus, lest you see the rage burning in his eyes — lest he see the heartbreak swimming in yours.

Marcus watches you crawl over the silken sheets, both of you sporting similar far-off gazes. He feels a bit like a ghost now. An empty, invisible thing, doomed to watch the rest of the world go on without ever being able to live in it. It’s dreadfully symbolic of how he’s lived most of his life, and how he’s spent the years loving you. Because even if a ghost is full of love, the only thing it knows to do is haunt.

The silk pillow feels cool under your burning cheek. The mattress dips under the Emperor’s weight when he kneels behind you. His ringed fingers smooth over your ass and down the arch of your back. He treats you with an uncharacteristic sort of tenderness, as though he were molding you out of clay.

“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he whispers under his breath. “And timid, too… I like that…”

Your pussy clenches at his words despite yourself. Geta’s chest swells with pride accordingly. “You don’t have to be scared, little dove. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Despite his words, he does not bother to ready you for his cock when he positions himself at your pulsing entrance. You hadn’t expected him to, of course — not many men were as kind as Marcus in that way, who often treated your pleasure as if it were his own. But the slick sticking to your thighs has made your pussy more than pliant. Your velvet walls swallow Geta’s cock with a pulsing vigor.

The Emperor groans as he fucks into you, savoring every inch as he buries himself to the hilt. His ringed fingers dig into the plush of your waist, as though you were a toy he didn’t want getting snatched away.

“Look at the hound!” Geta giggles boyishly to himself. “He’s itching for a feel of you— I just know it.”

Marcus remains as still and stoic as the battalion trained him to be. He reveals nothing on his face, though his skin prickles with flames of envy beneath his armor.

Marcus Acacius was not a jealous man. His love for you was a testament to that. He visited the brothel you boarded in and spared the same coins as every man in the establishment did. But it was different now. Because the Emperor does not deserve you, and he forces Marcus to watch as if he knows it, too.

Something within him seethes, like a feral animal trapped behind his ribcage, desperately clawing its way out.

“Look at him,” Geta snaps when he sees you staring at the wall, eyes glassy and glazed over. He’s grinning all over again when your gaze snaps to Marcus’.

The soldier’s weathered eyes burn with tears then. General Acacius has faced death a thousand times over, but it wasn’t quite as heartwrenching as this. His wrath simmers to a boil. He swallows it down like fire.

This is her salvation, he tells himself. This is how she survives.

Your features twist with the anguish of being seen as the Emperor lays himself over your back. His slick chest sits flush with your spine, pinning you to the mattress. “I bet he can taste you now. Smell you,” he murmurs in your ear, chapped mouth brushing the shell of it. “His mouth is salivating at the thought of putting his tongue on you— Isn’t it, dog?”

Marcus swallows through the emotion threatening to strangle him. He blinks away stinging tears and feigns an air of nonchalance. “It would be… impolite to talk so brashly about something that doesn’t belong to me, your majesty,” the General responds. Obedient. Loyal like a hound.

Geta grins wide. “Good answer, Acacius.”

When the Emperor finally fucks into you, it’s with a sloppy sort of precision. There is no rhythm or care to his thrusts. He is led only by his blinding pleasure, like a man who has only ever fucked playthings and his own fist. He props himself on one forearm and curls the other beneath you, holding your breast in his ringed hand.

Geta’s flushed cheek presses against your own while he slides in and out and into you again. You hear his groaning as you feel it rumbling in his chest, still laid against your back. You stare at a framed portrait on the wall across the room and wait for it to be over, even as your body refuses to dismiss its simmering orgasm.

Your swollen clit ruts against the silk sheets with each of the Emperor’s sloppy thrusts. You can feel a wet spot forming beneath you, and your stomach twists at the thought of seeing proof of your own pleasure.

His balls smack your leaking cunt, creating a symphony of lewd noises — moaning, whimpering, clapping, smacking. Marcus thinks the sounds of war were more merciful than this.

“Do you understand what that means, little dove?” Geta croons into your ear, words choppy through his labored breaths and irregular thrusts. “You belong— to me now… So whatever you used to be— whoever’s you used to be— no longer matters.”

He thrusts once, hard, and shudders above you with a choked-back groan. You grit your teeth to swallow down your own noises of pleasure. The assault on your clit, though unintentional, is still yet relentless. You feel the distant white-hot burning feeling begin to swell in the pit of your stomach. A coil about to snap.

“Fucking me— Making me feel good—” the Emperor pants, punctuated by his hips against your ass. “—Is your only duty now. Understand?”

You nod, cheek running over the silk cushion as you grip it in your fists. “Yes, your majesty,” you gasp.

Geta presses his smile to the apple of your cheek. He can feel you leaking around him. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is, to be sure. A proper whore, indeed.

“Now… Take my spend like a good bitch, and thank me for it—”

He fucks you harder, and your face twists with a pleasure you’re too weak to fight away.

Your gaze falls instinctively to Marcus as your orgasm threatens to swallow you whole. Your eyes squeeze shut in a feeble attempt to hide. Your mouth parts with a silent moan as you cum around the Emperor’s cock.

“Thank you, your majesty,” you whimper obediently into the pillow as you tremble beneath him. “Thank you.”

Geta buries a whine in your neck when he cums again. He gives you only two pitiful, warm loads but still possesses more stamina than your Marcus. He stills, then shudders, then rests his unforgiving bodyweight on top of you when pleasure makes a puddle of him. And of you, you assume, as a mixture of your spend leaks out of your cunt and onto the sheets.

“Write to my uncle, Acacius—” Geta slurs into your skin, heavy through labored pants. “—A thank you for my nameday present.”

Marcus forgets, until then, that he can still be seen. He felt more akin to a corpse hidden in the walls, forced to spend his afterlife in a merciless purgatory. His heart has stopped beating, frozen over, and now sits dead in his chest. He will never be as gentle as he was with you. He will be bloodied knuckles and pulsing wounds. Rough and cruel and angry.

“Yes, your majesty,” the General nods, thankful that it’s over now.

Geta rolls off of your body and onto the empty spot beside you — not shy about his nude form or yours. The sudden lack of warmth makes you shiver.

“And tell him to send another— To keep the General’s bed warm, too,” he says, patting your ass with his palm before smoothing tenderly over the skin. “One whore’s as good as any other, I’m sure.”

Marcus flinches at the thought of being with anyone other than you. He couldn’t hide the look of disgust if he tried. It makes the Emperor laugh loudly in response.

“Oh, did you— Did you want to try this one?” Geta muses knowingly, pointing to your limp body, still trembling beside him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“No. No, no, no— See, this one’s mine,” he corrects the General as if he were a child. “And it would be impolite to touch something that belongs to me, would it not? It would be treasonous, even.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Marcus nods, lip flickering in a mere hint of a smirk as his plan finally comes to fruition. “It would be.”

The Emperor sees you now as his property, and no one hurts what belongs to him without meeting a certain death. Marcus is comforted only by the thought that nothing can touch you now. Not even him. But perhaps that’s the price he pays for love. Perhaps, in the end, love is grief.

“So best tread lightly, Acacius,” Geta warns with a crooked smile, petting you like a dog. “I’d hate for someone to get hurt.”

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stardancerluv · 20 hours ago

Text

What the Emperor Wants

Part Twelve

Summary: Interesting moments for Geta and the girl who is his.

Notes/Warnings: dated notions of religion, dated notions in relation to “god/s”, dated notions of talking in one’s sleep, a touch of angst, fluff. Took some liberties with history with the idea of a concubine, marriage. Enjoyed using some of inspiration of the myth of Eros and Psyche.

nutrix: An ancient Roman word for “wet nurse,” nanny. The ring is based on rings around that time.

❤️s, feedback, comments, reblogs are always welcome! Ty for reading! Want to be tagged? Let me know!

The breeze was gentle as it blew through your hair as the horse you were on kept a good pace with Geta’s. The rain from the previous night was long forgotten along with the cloud of discontent that had fallen over Geta.

You were able to forget how the guard you had slapped the night gave you a lingering look when you had climbed up the animal.

“I am enjoying this.”

He looked over at you.

“Are you enjoying more than the last time you astride such a beast?”

“Yes. Grateful for the easiness of the stride. And I feel blessed to see all that Goddess Diana has bestowed on this land. It is beautiful.” You smiled.

“Yes, she has very giving. I feel the same. I am glad to be away from the dust of the city.”

Glancing over at Geta, you saw him look off into the distance. He looked truly at peace.

“It is also pleasing to not have to deal with senate and their infighting at times. Or worse, the ones to preen or grovel for my attentions.”

He chuckled, it was a rich and carefree sound. One you were still not completely accustomed to hearing. His face was soft with the good mood that has filled him.

“Caracalla can handle their attentions.”

You nodded, yet inwardly that worried you. His violent streaks scared you just as much as the more playful ones he shared with Dondas, while serving him, Geta & the general.

“Talk more to me blossom. I want to hear your lovely use of words.”

“The airs are sweet and fragrant as it swirls around us. Quintus, is pleased and proud to have you atop him. His gallop is strong and robust.”

A great warmth came over you as you spoke to him. You were reminded of the sweetness that had encircled the two of you, the mere night before.

“He’s a good horse. I’ve had him since he was a pony.”

Watching him, following his lead and it was not long till the horses slowing their pace.

You spotted a some of the guards, a flutter of unease fluttered in you. You knew they kept Geta safe; you don’t know how you felt about them. Well, perhaps it was just that one guard who made you nervous. You hoped he had not told the others slap.

The girls you would serve along side with, all talked. Some were not nice when you had arrived. They made sure you knew your place. If that be had not taken ill you would have never served in the arena.

Slaves appeared from the shrubbery and trees; they came forward and slowed the horses to a stop. They eagerly helped him down.

“Help her.”

Soon, they came over to you and wordlessly helped you down. None of them looked at you. He came over to you.

“We will sit over here and eat.”

You nodded and when you reached a rolled out carpet that had some platters of food. More than what your family would have had for weeks.

*******

He looked you over, the clothes hung wonderfully on you. You looked like a proper lady. It was giving him musings, perhaps once again Aphrodite was giving him a blessing.

A bird let out a call as he glided through the sky. He watched as you glanced up, your slips curling into a smile. Your eyes twinkled.

“Blossom?”

“Yes Geta?”

When you looked at him, his words ceased.

“Being here, reminds me of being a little girl.”

“Tell me about it.”

“With the soft green grass or firm brown dirt under my feet, I would run around. I’d love gathering flowers for shrines.”

The slice of pear you bit into was crisp. Watching the pleasure filled paused it gave you, drove him sink his own teeth into a slice.

You patted your lips before you continued.

“Since, I’ve always been small I would be the one check on eggs that would come from the gallus.”

He smiled. “So from checking on the state of a few gallus and their eggs, to pleasing me.”

You nodded, and a soft laugh came from you.

He paused, raising an eyebrow. The warmth, the feelings he had towards you were growing.

“At times, I would sing to them. They liked that.” You looked at him under your lashes. “That would please them too.”

“I do suppose I have picked someone special when I saw you.”

“Oh Geta.”

You splayed a hand across your face. It did not hide the dusting of rose that came to your cheeks.

“I wish to see you.”

Reaching over, he gently pulled your hand from your face. He caressed your cheek. The rose color deepened. These reactions he caused in you made him very happy.

A shadow fell over the two of you. Squinting, annoyed he looked up, moments later the smell of the man assaulted his nose. It was a member of his guards not cloud. His annoyance grew further.

“Sire. She didn’t slap you did she?”

He watched as the man swallowed.

“Do I need to handle her?”

“No, please leave my presence. You have blocked the sol.”

“Yes, sire. My apologies.”

With a clinking of armor he turned and left.

Once again the sol was bright once again shining down at the two of you. His annoyance began to evaporate, he glanced at you. All the color was gone. You were as pale as the clothes you wore.

“What is plaguing you?”

You blinked. “Geta?”

“You are the color of this.” He ran a finger along the material of one of your sleeve.

Something flickered in your eyes. He watched as you glanced around before you settled and met his eyes. You took a breath.

“Last night after returning to my room he gave me a look I didn’t appreciate. I asked him about it. He remarked that he was looking at the Emperor’s concubine so I slapped.”

You drew back.

He could not suppress the chuckle that rose up in him.

You were feisty. He would be deceiving himself, if he didn’t admit he found it refreshing.

“Geta?”

“You slapped one of my Praetorian Guards?”

“I did.” Your voice was low.

But how should he handle it with you, he wondered.

“I had said moments before I didn’t want anyone to catch sight of you;” He shrugged. “Tell me was it for the look or that he called you my concubine?”

“Both.”

“Interesting.” He stood, he spotted Gallus. “Come here.”

Gallus, came to attention and nodding he came over.

“Yes, sire?”

“Take a few of the men with you that you trust and bring that man here. Things may become rough.”

He made a fist and clapped his chest. “As you will it sire.”

He glanced down at you. “Stand.”

*********

Inwardly you felt yourself tremble. You couldn’t have lied to him it. But now you didn’t know what to do. Running away wasn’t an option.

Once you were standing you held your hands behind your back. While you watched Gallus gather some of the men, you wrung your hands.

“Geta.” You whispered.

“It can wait.”

You nodded. Yet, the slice words his sharp tone felt like a slap.

As your fingers found the bracelet the memory of him, the moment and other small moments did little to ease you.

You swallowed when they returned.

“Your sire called for my presence?”

“Yes.”

Glancing at Geta as he spoke, you noticed that his earth colored eyes had grown dark.

“I was informed that you called her my concubine.”

“I did.”

“Did someone tell you this or was this something you believed was the truth ?”

“Yes, sire I believed it to be the truth.”

Geta came over to you. “Give me your hand where the gift lays.”

You did as you were told.

He took your hand and showed your unmarred wrist. He let it go, then he moved swiftly behind easily you felt him behind.

“Don’t struggle.” He whispered close to ear. “Let us look at her.” He said in a much louder voice.

With a quick nimbleness he pealed a portion of your dress away from you.

“See there is no mark. I have made no formal announcement.”

He came out from behind you.

“I do not approve of your interaction with her. She belongs to me and as such, you are to be sent back to the city effective immediately. There you will accompany the last legion that is joining General Acacius in the fight for Numida.”

Your heart thudded; your feelings for Geta strengthened. You wished there were words you could express.

*******

His body felt like it did when the gods spoke through him to deliver justice in the arena. He knew they must be pleased with what he chose to do for you.

He felt different, he felt powerful.

*********

The sol was warm as its rays danced on your closed eyes. Stirring from sleep, you there was deep, even breathing. You smiled. Glancing in its direction, your vision was filled with Geta. Lying on his back, his chest which resembled great, magnificent statues not only those crafted in his image but those of the gods in the heavens.

It was not till you shifted, to rest your cheek in your hand that your fingers were close to his as they rested on his stomach.

“Was I talking?” His voice was deep from slumber.

“Oh? No it was Apollo’s sol that awoke me.”

“Good. Hoping those days don’t return.”

His eyes opened a sliver, as they caught yours.

“Caracalla, after having his moments of turmoil, he’ll sleep and murmur nothings.”

He exhaled, before continuing.

“My nutrix, said I was already talking to the gods.”

“I believe it. They followed, guided you the son of the emperor.”

A soft smile crossed his face.

“That is true. They made gave their aid, where they saw fit. Some difficulties were whispered of. So I knew they were there.”

He gently scratched his stomach, before he moved and to lay on his side as you were doing.

“At a young age, my toy figures and horses were already my subjects."

He reached, his fingertips grazed your brow as brushed an errant strand that fell into your face away.

“Your son, your future will know that as well.”

“He will.”

You watched as something came over his face. Quickly, he pulled back and left the bed.

“Geta? Did I…”

He returned before you could finish the question you had pass your lips.

He took your hand that had come to lay loosely on your side. His lips pressed against one of your knuckles. Almost the same moment, it felt as if butterflies had let loose within you.

“Eros took Psyche in his love, I have taken you. He took her away from the dreariness of existence and I did the same. I wish for you to be my wife. Will you be mine but now as a wife?”

“Geta.” You trembled as you breathed his name.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @laura-naruto-fan1998 @helsa3942 @marrowfrog00 @misspendragonsworld

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stellabk · 11 days ago

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FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part I

Parts 2 and 3 are now up as well!

Summary - Two young daughters and their Patrician father live just outside of Rome in a small village. For the sake of their father’s revolution against the twin tyrant emperors, she and her sister must play the part of lovestruck concubines, even if one of them has too much of a fiery temper to pretend to like the arrogant Emperor Geta.

Warning(s) - binding with rope, abusive behavior (not from Geta), graphic violence, attempted SA, blood, broken bones, not historically accurate. I’m not sure what else, but if you see something else including any edits needed, let me know!

Deianira stirred in her bed from the smell of smoke and the sound of shrieks. Her eyes shot open and she leapt from her bed, brushing the red hair away from her face with her hands as she rushed toward her window. Her brown eyes grew wide as the temple across from her home began disintegrating as it grew more and more ablaze. Soldiers lined the outside, one atop a black horse, as a bulky soldier gripped at a woman’s hair as she knelt on the ground screaming pleas to let her children live. Deianira threw on her clothes in a rush and came rushing down the stairs. Her father stood at the door watching in agonizing silence.

“Father, do something! They’ll kill her and her children!”

Her father only stood frozen, unable to respond. She huffed out a breath of frustration as she pushed past her father, rushing toward the woman.

“We will only ask this once more: where is the man who rules over this village?” the soldier, who you could now see the glinting gold of the Roman insignia on his breastplate, shouted in the woman’s face as he pulled her long hair even further toward the sky. She yelped at the sensation while her two young sons shouted and sobbed for the army to leave their mother alone.

“Let that woman be! What crime has she committed to deserve such callous ruthlessness?”

The soldier’s head shot in her direction, the woman and children now quiet as they stared at their neighbor in fear. The man dropped the woman’s head as she fell to the ground on her face. He began to approach her, tall and burly frame stalking closer and closer like a leopard on the prowl. He stood directly in front of her face, towering over her and spitting on the ground just next to her unclothed feet.

“What right does a bitch have to feel the need to incessantly bark?!” He brought the back of his hand to her face making her stumble to the side. She stayed looking down, her hand slowly moving for the dagger at her side under her dress. He stepped closer to her, yelling blashphemous words at her as he knelt to her ear level just to insult her. He couldn’t get all of his verbal abuse past his lips as her knee came up to meet his croin then her dagger plunged into his throat. He stumbled back several steps with her following, the knife still lodged into his larynx, only pushing harder as he tried to move away. He looked at her with the last light in his eyes as his knees sank to the dirt right beside the woman he had just been tormenting. Deianira spit by his knees before pulling the crimson covered weapon away from his jugular as he fell face first into the red mud.

The general stared at her, unyielding of any emotion but his eyes possessed the faintest hint that he was impressed.

“Forgive my soldier,” the general hopped from the left side of his horse, petting its neck then stepping closer to the petite but obviously dangerous woman in front of him, who still held the dagger chest level and ready to attack once more. “He never has been very tactful. Though I will say, it is a shame you had to kill the fellow.”

“What is it that you Empire scum want with my village?” she hardened her exterior to not let her guard down; he could have only been acting cordially in order to strike her down, after all.

“We have our orders to find Publius, the man who this city follows.”

“What has my father done to incur the wrath of the imperators?”

“Unfortunately your father has refused to send the taxes of the townsfolk to their highnesses, and they took it as a sign he may begin an upheaval.”

“That is nonsense!” your father hobbled to your side. “I would never do a thing to seem like a transgression against my emperors. I beg of you, let me recompense my unintentional transgressions. I shall repay tenfold.”

“Father, you cannot be serious,” Deianira looked at her father. He quickly shot her a look signalling her that she had ashamed him enough. She sealed her lips to prevent any further disgrace to befall him.

“If you and your men wish to wait here for a moment, I shall go inside and wake the servants so they may prepare what you are owed.”

“Very kind, sir. The imperators thank you for your continuous support.”

Deianira’s father nodded to the general before beckoning her back into the house with his hand on her back. Once they were inside, her father closed the door and her sister, Publia, waited with her arms crossed over her chest and yet her wavy blonde hair looked as if it had just been brushed, perfect as ever.

“By the gods, what has happened to you, Deianira?” She brushed her soft cream colored hands across the cheek the soldier had struck, feeling the sting of her touch through the skin.

“Now is not the time. Father, why cower to those soldiers? We have wanted this rebellion to commence for a decade now. Why not stand against the tyrants that sit on the throne?”

“I have my reasons, girl. If you truly want to help our cause–the both of you–I suggest you come near and listen to me carefully. I shall not force on you anything you do not wish to do… We have all discussed the dangers of this revolt, and you both know what is at risk… what you may have to lay down for the sake of the people around us.”

“Father, please. Tell us what you are thinking,” Publia stepped closer to him.

Publius sighed, shaking his head, “I will send the gold and treasures to the emperors, along with my two daughters for an apology.”

“No,” Deianira scrunched her brows, hurt by the notion that their father would pass them along as if they were treasures to be claimed.

“Hear me first, daughter. Your sister is of the meek persuasion. She will make a good fit to tempt Emperor Geta. You, on the other hand, are fiery and hot tempered. Emperor Caracalla will love the challenge of trying to tame the wild beast. If you were to go, you could be a potential consort of the two rulers and bring them to their knees, also giving me the time to build up our recruits and prepare them for the slaughter.”

“But father, if we become nothing more than a consort, we may lose the chance to marry,” Deianira furrowed her brows, holding back her pending explosion of fury from her family.

“She does have a point, father. Not to mention if we are consorts, what shall become of us if we become with child? Should we be exiled, never to see you or any of our loved ones ever again?”

“I understand, and as I stated, I shall not force you both to do this if you do not wish it, but if you do this, we may yet save our people. But you both knew that this revolution could come with great risks.”

SIlence loomed overhead like a broadsword on a small string. Publia was the first to break it.

“I must live up to the name that is yours as well as mine. We are for the people, and I shall be anywhere the rebellion has use for me.”

Deianira hesitated, fighting her head which said to stay under the small blanket of safety in the village, and her heart which cried for the revolution.

“I shall also go. My name my mother gave me might not be of Roman descent, but she gave it to me with purpose.”

Father had the servants carry out gold and treasures in carts, one right after the other. The handmaiden dressed the two doomed sisters in beautiful, luxurious dress for their journey before sending them off with only a few of their close items. The eldest sister walked out the door first as Deia’s father stopped her.

“I want you to heed my words. I do not want you to relent your animosity. Act as if you are being forced to go. Fight them as much as you possibly can until you feel as if Caracalla has “tamed” you. Go forth with the fire of your hair.”

She nodded one last time to her father before he walked her out toward the general.

The general stood beside his horse, waiting for the two women. “Thank you once more, Publius. Your daughters will be well taken care of.”

“Thank you, General Acacius. I am sure they will be taken care of with the utmost diligence.” Your father lowered his head to Acacius in respect.

“However, my men do insist we tie this one to ensure the safety of the rest of the men.”

Deianira smiled with a scoff. “You believe rope will be enough to stop my wrath? If I wish it, I shall bear my teeth to your mens’ throats.”

The rope was tight against her arms as two soldiers wrapped it around her, pinning them to the sides of her torso. A man helped her sister into a carriage, then her, making sure to give her the ample support without the use of her arms.

Before they knew it, the carriage and militia surrounding them made their leave, all of them but two looking back at the smoke from the attack.

The sisters jostled down paths in the carriage that held them, Publia sleeping soundly as Deianira squirmed against the ropes that burned her skin, trying to release some of the pressure. The carriage slowed to a stop, and more bustling noise could be heard from outside it. Publia peeked over the edge where she sat on the floor of the cart, watching as men carried their food cargo in crates and satchels to start camp. She squatted back to her sister’s level ,letting her know what was happening. The women sat as they watched men building tents and a few fires around them as the sun sank further and further down.

General Acacius approached the two of them, “We have a tent for the two of you to share ready if you would like to relax for the night. Dinner will be ready momentarily.”

Deia’s sister pulled her to her feet and led her to the tent. As time passed, she still remained bound, her sister forced to feed her since she lacked the ability to do it herself, and also made up her bedroll. The sun had completely set on the camp, and it grew quieter. The two women slept soundly, though Deianira began to shift in her bedroll at the increase of close sounds. She groggily opened her eyes and looked toward her sister, and was immediately fully awake. A soldier held a knife to her throat and another hand against her mouth, Publia’s skirt showing her loincloth undergarments as she cried quietly and shook. the man had not yet noticed that she was awake, so she knew she had to act fast, but how would she fend him off still bound? In a matter of instinct, she charged for him and threw her full body weight at him like a spear, feet first into his side. The man grunted as he rolled onto the floor, Deia taking it as a sign to head but him with all of her strength. His head fell to the tent floor, rolling over onto hi back as he groggily put his hands against his forehead in anguish. Deianira straddled him, pushing her bare foot against his neck, then snaking the other around to hold his head firm and watch his face turn blue. He grappled for the lost weapon, pawing at her with the other in an attempt to get her off, before he slowly stopped, all light leaving his eyes and head falling to the side still discolored.

Two more guards rushed in from the commotion, seeing the display and their deceased brother. One charged toward Deia, knocking her on her back and off of the dead soldier. He ran toward her with the knife that had been discarded on the floor, but she kicked with both legs into his rib cage, knocking the breath from his lungs. The other grabbed her off the floor by her torso and held her back against him, giving the other soldier an opportunity to attack. He came closer with the knife twirling in his fist and fury in his eyes, panting to try and recover his lost breath. Deianira kicked behind her into the mans knee cap, pushing it into a wrong angle as he screamed before lifting her other leg to kick the man in the same place as the one that was behind her and now on the floor. He cut at her leg, earning a hiss of pain, charging another attack with the blade at her. As if a wild tiger, she ran forward and bit into his neck hard. He screamed at first, then began to gargle. She tasted the metallic taste of his blood, smelled it as it burned at her eyes, but she didn’t relent. If he moved , she bit in harder. He fell to the ground in a heap, still struggling for death, and she still held tightly with her teeth as she collapsed with him. General Acacius stormed in, tens of soldiers behind him now and staring on in horror. Deia finally felt the breathing stop under her lips and let go. Her mouth, legs and arms were covered in a mix of her and the soldiers’ blood sitting criss cross on the tent floor while her sister cowered in the corner. She panted, spitting as much blood from her mouth as possible, tears burning her eyes from the blood exposure.

”Do forgive me, general… they attacked my sister.”

He only nodded, looking at the floor and two bedrolls that had blood splotches scattered on them, then to the girl sitting on the ground covered in blood like a carnivore after devouring a good hunt, and finally to the sister who still remained in her bedroll hat had escaped without a drop of blood or scratch on her.

”We unfortunately have no way for you to clean up, nor anything to change into. Please, get some rest. I shall be outside your tent to ensure nothing like this happens again.”

Publia hugged her sister’s back while the other soldiers dragged their dead companions from the tent leaving a trail of blood behind and the two sisters shared their bedroll that night out of fear for what was to come.

#emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii smut #gladiator 2 smut #gladiator ll #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #emperor geta #joseph quinn

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ho-for-joequinn-fics · 22 days ago

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Thank you @myherometalhead for this perfect masterlist edit! 🥹🖤

18+ only! Minors DNI with this masterlist, my fics, or my blog! You WILL be blocked!

I don’t anticipate writing more fics on here since my main focus is my older Eddie series over on my main blog, but I just wanted what I have already written to be easily accessible. Emperor Geta is all I’ve written for 🖤

The Emperor’s Angel 🥵

Servant Turned Empress 🥵

Rage, Ropes, and Release 🥵

Display of Death 🥵

You Are Worth It 🥵

Geta Bloody Geta 🥵

If I do end up writing more Geta fics in a spur of the moment situation, then I will add them to the masterlist as I go 🖤

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x f!reader #emperor geta x general acacius!daughter #emperor geta x senators!daughter #emperor geta x empress!reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta smut #emperor geta #gladiator 2 #gladiator II

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irrelevantwriter · 22 days ago

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His Wife, Her Power

Pairing: Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) x Female Reader/You

Warnings: NSFW, Ancient Rome type shit, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, power couple tings

Word Count: 3242

Summary: Part 2. The Emperor of Rome learns just who he chose to be his queen.

A/N: Part two is upon us. And its gonna get nasty. Again, I took major liberties with Ancient Rome. Let’s pretend okay. There also might be a part three 👀 Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Read Part One here

*Masterlist

***********************

You released a breath, feeling the last of your hair being freed from the confines of their pins. Your maiden brushed through your hair gently, nearly lulling you to sleep. Lavender emanated from your skin, making the temptation of slumber all the more intense.

“Your highness, the Emperor has called for you,” she whispered, setting the ivory comb aside.

You nodded, a kind smile aimed her way. “Thank you. I’ll be along shortly,” you gently dismissed, not wanting to be followed.

She understood.

You took a moment to gather yourself in the solitude of your own chambers. You thought back on the day and the events that led you here. It’d started as any other and now you were possibly facing a fate much worse than death.

Geta had been infuriated at you. He did not wish to eat dinner with you nor bathe with you. You hadn’t seen him since he’d threatened a night of merciless tyranny.

Your husband, while sadistic at times, was simply a man. He did not want for much when it came to a wife. But you…you yearned for so much more. More than him crawling atop you. More than the uncoordinated coitus you’d grown accustomed to. And despite your husband’s misgivings, you did love him. You did lust for him.

But he had barely scratched the surface of just what kind of woman he’d married.

A knock from outside your door let you know a guard was waiting to escort you. You glanced down at your attire, pleased with the color choice. A robe of red and gold, similar to that of your husband’s, adorned your frame. It concealed what lay underneath. A sheer stola, the shade similar to the deepest scarlet rose you’d ever seen. One that lay in the gardens just beyond your chambers.

Your sandals padded softly along the marble floors, soft echoes following you. A guard was placed at your front and back. At first glance, it looked to be for your protection. But something told you otherwise.

The journey to your husband’s quarters was long. Unnecessarily so. Once you’d made it to the entrance of his chambers, the guard at your front knocked on the door. It opened, revealing the Emperor’s own maiden. She smiled, eyes downcast and not meeting your own as she greeted you.

“Your highness, the Emperor is waiting.”

She stepped aside, letting you through. You thanked her, holding your robe together as she left, the door closing in a muted thud.

Soft light glowed throughout the room from several candles. A tray of fruits and meats sat near goblets of wine. By the looks of it, your husband had already helped himself.

“You seem nervous.”

His voice startled you. He made himself known when he stepped out of the darkness of the night, sheer curtains blowing in the gentle breeze of his balcony.

He wore a robe that nearly matched yours though his was much more intricate and regal.

“If I appear nervous it is only because I wish to please my emperor,” you said with a bow of your head.

Geta scoffed.

“Placations will not get you far here, my love.”

He reached for you, beckoning your forward. You took his hand, letting him lead you. He bypassed the food and poured you a hearty glass of wine, maroon droplets sloshing over the side as he did so.

“Here. You’ll need it.”

You took the drink, bringing it to your lips. You sipped, the pungent taste of grapes making you feel warm already.

“My, my…someone is in a hurry,” Geta teased, his own glass poised in the air as if to make a toast.

You belatedly realized he’d meant to toast with you. Humiliation crept its way up your spine.

“I’m sorry, Augustus,” you softly offered, licking the excess wine off your lips.

“It’s alright. I’d say that’s the least of your discretions, wouldn’t you?”

He smiled and you couldn’t tell if he was speaking in jest or just waiting for the right moment to strike.

You watched as he took a long pull from his glass, swallowing nearly all of its contents. A wayward drop made its journey down the hill of his Adam’s apple and over his exposed chest. Your stare was unabashed. He took notice.

He looked at you for a long moment and it nearly made you uncomfortable. You took another sip from your wine, feeling that fuzzy sensation start to move through your limbs.

“You, my wife,” he started, placing his cup on the table, “are truly a stunning sight. Do you know that?”

You smiled, eyes aimed down at the rare emotion in your husband’s voice.

“You don’t believe me?”

You placed your glass down, shaking your head. “Of course I do, Augustus.”

“You know all of Rome has you in their hearts. Their Emperor as well. A slave to you. And you dare to seem coy when I remark upon your beauty?”

He was teasing you.

“A true lady of Rome knows of her beauty. But she never lets others know. That is her strength,” you replied, meeting the slow burn beginning to take shape in his eyes.

Geta smiled. A hint of pride in his face at your words.

“Ah, there she is. What did you call yourself earlier?” He mimed as if he was thinking, a ringless hand lifted to his chin. “Oh yes! A jungle cat. My jungle cat.”

His features shifted then. His shoulders squared. His chin up and pointed down at you. An Emperor coming to life.

“You were quite the spectacle today, wife. A rarity even for you,” he remarked as he slowly started to circle you.

“Forgive me, husband. I was speaking out of turn. That is my error.”

You flinched when his hand weaved itself into your loosened tresses. He played with the ends, his chest nearly touching your back.

“While I appreciate the gesture, I much prefer your talk of freedom and sorcery.”

He moved to stand in front of you again, any traces of anger or irritation erased.

“I thought of your words for the remainder of the day. And I have to admit,” he paused, eyes lasciviously roaming across your figure. “I am intrigued.”

You felt your nipples pebble beneath your clothing at the way he was taking you in. He looked starved. A wild animal ready to pounce. It made the heartbeat centered in your chest travel downwards. It stopped between your legs.

“I am not a sorceress,” you attested, squaring your own shoulders when he laughed.

“Some say you are. Displayed by the way the people adore you. The way your Emperor does.”

He stepped closer, hands reaching for the opening of your robe that lay at your breasts.

“I only love who I have a duty to love. There is no crime in that.”

Geta cupped your cheek, tutting down at you. “Of course not, my love. But I want to see what lies beyond that duty.”

He pushed your robe off your shoulders, revealing your barely hidden form beneath it. The fabric fell to your feet, leaving your arms naked. A breeze kicked up, making your nipples even more prominent against the sheer fabric.

Geta took you in slowly, the flames of his gaze heating the chill of the night.

“I want you to give yourself to me. Freely. It is your turn to take, my love. You have my explicit permission.”

A thunderous wave accompanied the heartbeat between your thighs at your husband’s words. His hands made a home at your hips. His lips, at your allowance, pressed gently into yours. And it was you, drunk on the power wielded over to you, that opened your mouth to welcome him in.

Your tongues danced together as one, the taste of wine evident. He grasped at the fabric concealing you and grunted against your lips. You pushed his own robe from his shoulders, baring him to your eager eyes. He was no Roman soldier, but he was built sturdy as any god carved from marble.

“Let me touch you,” he pleaded, the words sounding like a symphony to your ears. You nodded, allowing him to undo the knot at your shoulder.

Your own hands reached for the knot at his waist, the only piece of clothing he wore to cover his modesty. You’d never initiated such a thing. Geta buried himself into your neck at the action.

Within seconds, you were both bare. His hands tangled in your hair while yours tugged at his. He tasted the column of your neck, moaning when he tasted something sweet. Honey.

“I wish to show you something,” you breathed, pulling him from your chest.

He nodded, eyes unfocused as he tried hard to listen to your words.

You led him to his own bed, releasing him so that you could lay back. You were on display for him. Curves highlighted by candlelight. Your hair was fanned around you, creating a halo. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think your husband was worshipping a goddess at her altar. He looked like a man lost in the desert, gazing upon you as if all hope was centered between your thighs.

For him, it was.

You took him in. Unruly curls, wild eyes, and a cock as hard as the stone columns you resided in. He panted as if he’d run a mile to get to you. Sweat glistening off his pale skin. He was his own sight to behold.

“Do you know, my Emperor, that I cast a hand upon myself at night? Without you?”

Geta’s eyes hurriedly found yours at your words, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

To demonstrate your point, you caressed yourself, soft stomach tightening as you traced delicate shapes into the flesh. He followed your movements, entranced.

“Not possible,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

“It is a man’s duty for pleasure. Not a woman’s.”

You giggled at his ineptitude.

“Oh, on the contrary…,” you cooed, your hand slowly making its way down your body. You passed over the curls nestled at the apex of your thighs and instead dipped a shallow finger beyond your folds. A soft gasp fell from your lips, your eyes closing briefly. An ocean of need sat beyond your walls. Wet and waiting.

“You have aroused yourself?” He asked, somehow looking amazed and stupefied at the same time.

You saw his cock twitch.

“At times, yes,” you answered with a gasp, your finger catching the hidden source of pleasure just above your folds.

“And you seek pleasure on your own? Without me?”

He was not displeased as you’d anticipated. He was curious, hand reaching for himself. You watched as he squeezed the base, surely staving off the same unquenchable need you felt.

“I do,” you admitted, finally plunging a finger into your depths. Your palm brushed the outside of your folds as you did, sending lighting bolts of ecstasy through your veins.

“I want to see,” Geta demanded, one hand still holding himself.

You acquiesced and spread your legs, letting his eyes feast upon you properly. One hand worked another finger in while the other cupped your breast, gently tugging at your nipple.

You moaned at the feeling, nearly forgetting your husband was witness to such a wanton display.

“Do you wish to touch me?”

Geta nodded, swallowing as he joined you on the bed. You reached for his hand, putting a digit to your lips and lathering it in saliva. He watched in rapt fascination as you led him to your core. His hands were hardly calloused, but still rougher and bigger than your own. One of his fingers felt like two of yours, the stretch utterly blissful.

“You’ve drenched your thighs,” he observed, taking a moment to see just how wet you were. You let him do as he wished, giving yourself over to his touch.

He teased your entrance, using your arousal to coat himself. When he used his fingers to spread you, you trapped his hands between your thighs, the emptiness you felt too overpowering.

“Please touch me, Augustus. Fill me,” you begged, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

He dutifully did as you requested, slipping two fingers inside. You arched your back, inching closer to his charitable touch.

“You are mesmerizing,” he rasped, feeling your inner walls tighten around him.

“Curl your fingers. Inside.” You gripped the bedding beneath you as he slowly pushed in and out, taking your instruction. Stars filled your vision as he did so.

You were on the cusp of coming undone and without thinking, you joined his hand, manipulating his thumb so that he brushed against your delicate bundle of nerves. On the fourth pass, your body tightened and bursts of white light appeared behind your eyes. That feeling that you’d never found with him, but always with yourself had descended upon you. And just like every occasion before, you soared.

Your chest heaved as you floated back down, Geta’s touch still strong against you. You whimpered and gently pushed him away, the sensitivity too much. You watched as he looked at his hand, coated in you. He rubbed two fingers together, the digits never meeting. There was too much of you for him to feel his own touch.

“That is what a woman giving herself to you looks like, my husband,” you said with a satisfied smile, nodding to his hand.

Geta looked down at you, searing your skin. His cock was still hard and now dripping with its own need. He used his hand, the one coated in your essence, and began soothing his own ache. His bicep tightened, his stomach taut as he peered down at you, sprawled out and lust drunk.

“I have never met another like you,” he panted, eyes rolling when he paid special attention to the head. “You may not be a sorceress, my dear…but magic is what surely lays beyond your depths.”

You smiled up at him, seeing his chest flush red. You leaned up on your elbows, reaching a hand out to stop him. He did so reluctantly.

“Kiss me.”

He met you in the middle, arms holding himself up as his cock brushed your stomach. He kissed you hungrily and with desperation, hissing when your hand encircled him. His forehead came to rest against yours, completely overtaken by your touch.

“If you want to believe it is a spell between my thighs that has you prisoner, then so be it,” you whispered against his lips.

He grunted when you stopped, the delay of gratification beginning to frustrate him. Before he could complain, you pushed against his chest, signaling that you wanted him beneath you. He’d never had you in this position and you could see him questioning such a request.

“Let me show you, my love. Let me show you what having me means.”

Without another word, he did as you asked.

He sat propped against feathered pillows as you straddled him. His eyes immediately went to your breasts. He feasted on them, pawing and nibbling every inch of honeyed skin. You held him to you, feeling his hips brushing up to meet yours. When he grazed your opening, you both moaned.

You reached between your bodies and steadied him, forcing him to meet your gaze. You placed him at your entrance, sensuously lathering him in you. And as slowly as you could manage, you began to ease him inside. His arms instantly encircled you, fingers digging into the flesh at your hips. You did the same, hugging him to you as you became one. It was not the first time, but it would feel that way for many reasons.

“Gods, that feels…divine,” he exhaled, his lips brushing the tops of your breasts.

“Like this…it feels like you're in the very depths of my soul,” you confessed, shifting your hips ever so slightly. The movement caused you both to draw in a breath. “Only you’ve been here, my love.”

Geta hummed in approval, thrusting his hips upwards. You gasped, your own hips beginning to find a rhythm atop him.

“Are you certain? You speak of this pleasure as if you’ve had it with another.”

You threw your head back when a particularly sharp thrust made you see stars. Geta gripped your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I haven’t,” you assured him, burrowing into his neck. “It’s only been you. You are the only one to see me this way. Explore me so deeply.” He made it a point to seat himself deeper at your words, making you lose your breath. You sought out his lips in return. “You are the only one to fill me with seed.”

He kissed you. It was bruising and matched the speed of his hips below you. You held on tight, feeling him draw pleasure from you unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

His hands held your hips, keeping you in your place above him. He watched you fall apart with every rock of his hips. When he could see tears mount in your eyes, he felt for the spot you’d shown him just above where he was sheathed in you.

His fingers fumbled, unfamiliar with how to touch you. But the moment you tightened and gasped around him, he knew he’d found it.

Your nails dug into his back, his own hands claiming their place on your backside. Euphoria mounted at the highest hill and you could feel yourself getting ready to fall down it. Moisture collected in your eyes, the feeling of it all too much.

“You are mine. You belong to me. To Rome. And you are mine to tame,” Geta growled, pulling your chin down so that you faced him.

“Yes, yes…I’m yours. All yours,” you deliriously agreed.

He nipped at your lips, hips still fucking up into you. “Such a good wife.”

Ironically, his words were your undoing. You began to fall, careening through the heavens as your entire body tensed with ecstasy. You couldn’t make out what was real and what was not as wave after wave dragged you under. The only thing you could be sure of was your husband’s voice as he fell alongside you. Together.

A warmth spread through you as your mind returned to your body. You were utterly satiated, barely able to keep yourself upright. Geta did so, leaning into you as the last of his seed painted your walls. You welcomed it, opening your hips up further to take all that he had to give.

Like a good wife.

When enough time passed and the breeze of the night made itself known again, you shifted your hips, meaning to retreat. Geta stopped you.

“Stay. Like this. Just for a little bit,” he commanded.

You did as he said, not in a rush to part from him.

This was out of the norm for you both, but it was welcomed. You caressed the muscles in his back. He let his hands dip along your waist and hips. Sweat and your releases bound you together as the candles melted down.

“You do not know of the power you possess, my love,” Geta softly confessed, his lips placing barely there kisses along your neck.

You met his eyes, staring down at the cooling depths of mahogany. You cupped his cheek, feeling the beginning roughness of an unshaven face.

“I do, my Emperor. A true lady of Rome knows she holds all the power.”

Part Three

#emperor geta #gladiator 2 #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fic

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