#emperor geta fluff

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Nine

Summary: Emotions take bloom.

Notes/Warnings: Hints of dommy, emperor Geta. Dated views on feelings, ownership & religion.

I saw Gladiator 2. ❤️ed Love Geta. Wrote half of this before seeing it. Only shifted somethings 🫣🥹 my story a smidge.

❤️s, comments, feedback, & reblogs are welcome & appreciated!

Something in him that he wasn’t familiar with came over him. Shifting where he sat, he glanced back at you. There a short distance between the two of you.

“Move closer.” He murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

Once you were settled, he reached for your hand and held it over his shoulder.

He kept his attention on the dancers. A smile spread across his face. He felt good.

“Sire?” You felt confused.

His thumb grazed the softness of your wrist. You trembled.

“I want to feel your touch.” He pressed your hand to his chest.

You didn’t say anything further. Your touch was subtle as he continued to enjoy the fruits and bread before him, with an occasional sip of his wine.

Occasionally, he bring his hand to yours and press it against him before releasing it to let you continue your idle touch. Which felt as delicate as a butterfly wings has they flutter over new spring blossoms.

Catching the eye of one of the personal guards. He motioned for the man to come over.

In hushed tones, he told him to ready the carriage and to send word that villa was to ready for his arrival in the early afternoon. And to have the men ready as well to give a proper escort for himself and you.

The man replied with a positive affirmation, he knew it was possible. He had given them shorter notice when Caracalla had gone through a period of prolonged feelings of distress and tantrums. The would be much easier.

******

You held the breath in you when he motioned for the guard to come over. Their voices were hushed and low. You could not decipher what was said despite being close. You watched as the man gave a nod, stood straight and left with great haste.

Your thoughts whirled at the possibilities of what the exchange could have been. Your stomach turned.

Though as you felt his thumb graze the softness of your wrist, you were brought back to the room in which you sat.

“Diversion from the city lays ahead of us.” He told you softly.

Merriment still surrounded you, torches flickered and hushed pleasant voices grounded the music that player to accompany the dancers that continued to swish and twirl in the center of the room.

“That will be delightful Geta.” You smiled.

Tingles, from how your arm and hand were prickled at you. It reminded you on mornings where you had woken up after laying on your limb. You didn’t dare roll your hand or pull it back. Despite being the emperor, you surely believed he had those same tingles. But you enjoyed this and didn’t wish to disrupt his pleasure.

Feeling a gentle tug, you looked and caught Geta’s gaze. “Yes, Geta?”

“I’m growing tired. We shall retire to my quarters, there is something we need to discuss.”

“Yes.” You replied softly. “Yes, absolutely.” Before his hand released yours, his thumb once again grazed your wrist.

*******

He glanced at you as the two of you walked down the passageways. The footfalls of the two of you were the only ones that mattered in his opinion. The torches flickered and cast shadows here and there.

Looking at you, once again that feeling stirred in him from earlier in the evening. It reminded him of the excitement on the brink of a banquet celebrating a victory or watching a good fight in the arena. Never towards a person, even less towards someone who belonged to him.

His guards opened the doors to his quarters. He ushered you in first.

“Go to the balcony.” He told you, when you began to turn towards him.

You nodded.

He went over to where the guards stood.

“I do not want to be disturbed, Gallus.” He turned to the guard, he saw the most. “If anything else needs to be done before dawn, please do so. I do not want to delay our departure once dawn breaks. And inform Aelia she is to pack her belongings and hers, if she has not already done so, since she will be traveling with me as well.”

“Every well, sire. They are well prepared for your arrival at the destination and for your departure from here.”

“Good.”

With a nod, he closed the door.

He took off his laurel crown and set it down. Running his fingers through hair, he looked at your figure as he walked over to you. He paused, watching you.

You were gazing at your hand, he had enjoyed holding it. The gods have blessed you, he mused. Your hands were as lovely as the ways you twined words together. They were skillful in touch and in mending as well, as he glanced down where you had tended to his wound which stung with its freshness.

“Geta.” Seeing him, you turned with a smile that curled your lips.

He nodded, as he grew closer.

“Tonight’s festivities after justice was served were very pleasing. Do you agree?”

“Yes. Those dances were fascinating. Nothing, I had ever seen before.”

He smiled. “It was the same for me. They have traveled from one of the new providences. It was to celebrate them now being one with Rome.”

“That is wonderful.” You looked down.

He drew your chin up, he studied your features. Yes, he would definitely have to have a craftsman, capture you. It was as if the gods themselves had wielded a paintbrush or sculptors tool when you were created.

“Yes, Geta?”

He could feel your breath. Its steady increase pleased him.

“I’ve grown tired of city and all of the politics. We shall depart and enjoy the good airs and feel in good humor soon.

“We?” Your eyes grew.

He chuckled. “Yes, we. As much as I do enjoy my solitude. And anytime away from Caracalla can feel very good; I wish you to accompany me.”

********

With cloaks on and the blue light of the dawn, you had climbed in and sat with Aelia and Geta was opposite the two of you in the carriage. It was not long, before the streets of the city were shadows in the dust of the wheels and horse’s pace. The horses did not pick up a good trot till out of the confines of the city to not create a disturbance.

******

You tried, struggled even to stay awake, an eagerness to look out the windows had grabbed you. It was exciting to go somewhere you had never been. Even, Aelia had told you briefly how much nicer it was at the villa. Especially with Caracalla staying at the domus in the city.

Vaguely, you wondered about the woman who sat beside you. She was loyal without question to Geta. She had been firm yet show a warmth, a kindness towards you that you had not expected. Not many were. So you accepted and appreciated it.

On either side of the two of you were also guards, you didn’t speak to them and they didn’t speak to you. You barely ever looked up at one. They scared you. Glancing over at Geta, you noticed that he had even bowed his head to sleep. It had run its soft lulling touch over all of you. Your eyes had been growing heavier.

Before succumbing to its soft touch, you caught a glimpse of Geta from under your hood. His lashes laid on his cheeks, his hair like sun-rays themselves were peaking from the edges of his cloak’s hood and his features were soft. Your heart quickened realizing like this he resembled the sculptures you had been blessed to see. He truly, was touched by the gods.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @heartsforjosephquinn @helsa3942

[belokhvostikova]

I’m turning Marie Antoinette saying, “You were not what was desired, but you are no less dear to me. A boy would be the son of France (emperor of Rome), but you shall be mine,” into a very much needed wholesome Emperor Geta x Wife!Reader headcanon, when their first baby is a girl! <3

[trulyumai]

a break in the night

pairing: Emperor Geta / Wife! Reader

synopsis: no one knew just how much the emperor cared for his wife, after all, he hid it so well. how could anyone see such a show of anger coming? and over your wellbeing no less…

warnings: cussing, yelling, anger, angst.

Enjoy the story!

No one expected an invasion in the night. No one heard the trespassers skulk about the grounds, enter the halls and find the emperors chamber with ultimate ease.

It raised questions.

How did they get in so easily?

How did they find the chambers?

What made them target you?

Geta was hardly in his personal quarters, mostly, he sat out in his studies— just by the library and planned. His men would be by his side, offering the best advice and protection they possibly could while you would be away wandering the grounds.

At dusk, you would find your dear husband, kiss his cheek and ignore his comments about such a display before heading to retire for the night. “goodnight, my love,” you whispered.

The name was always changing, but it always gravitated towards some loving endearment. It made Geta scowl. Made him want to rip out his own heart for how it seemed to flutter and skip by such simple phrases.

Geta watched you go and tightening his fists before eyeing the map displayed across most of the table in front of him.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

He hadn’t meant to stay out so late.

His eyes were heavy, little slits amongst the darkened room. Leaning on his hand, his jewelery began to feel uncomfortable, it itched at his skin a little too much.

Getting angry the emperor ripped off his rings before carelessly throwing them amongst the objects upon the table. “Fucking—"

Furiously getting up, the goblet at his side fell down the ground with a loud clatter. He had to concentrate.

On the plans.

The invasion.

The war he was suppose to be winning.

Screams, horrible fear induced screams erupted, echoing throughout the halls, the corridors that made about the secured building.

Geta’s head snapped back so fast his vision doubled. Usually, he would leave such a predicament to his guards.

But he recognized that pitch, that voice.

It couldn’t be?

“Wife!”

With his hand pushing his figure off the table, he ran. Bolted and turned. Pushing anyone, everyone out of the way until he reached the cracked door of his solitary.

He hasn’t even realized his guards were missing, not at their usual place by his side.

“Wife!” He called, already pushing the door open. This feeling was new. It made his fingers shake, his knees weak and his mind numb.

He couldn’t lose you already. Not when he was so early in his reign. Not when you doted on him so. Not when he barely got to love you in return.

A mumble called out with a voice so light Geta doubted himself upon hearing it. With furrowed brows he craned his neck, to where such a sound emitted.

And there you were.

Clutching your neck with a tight, bloody grip.

His lips, his face, flinched with such a sight. He just stood there, in the middle of the room like some bystander.

“G-Geta,” you felt so cold. It was odd, because usually, this room ran overwhelmingly warm. Especially now, with candles lit in every direction. Your husbands eyes were so wide, the white of his orbs shined bright against the flickering lights as his hand lightly shook at his side. You were trying to be strong, to not pass out, or cry in desperation.

But seeing your husband, who was usually as distant as a stranger, look at you so… scared, made you weak.

Weaker than the blood loss had made you.

Swallowing down the spit that had gathered, Geta rushed forth, descending down to get a better look at you.

“Let me see, let me—,” your hand moved, slumped down against the floor in a solid maroon color.

The wound started at the base of your neck, to the curve of your shoulder. A sloppy, rushed cut. Jagged and oozing with vast amounts of blood.

“I’m scared,” your eyes leaked with a teary wetness. It trailed down your cheeks until it met with the bloody mess upon your body.

Geta shushed you, taking a solid grip of his robe before ripping it with a strong tug. The material gave away easily against the pressure and it found home upon the junction of your neck.

It smelled so comforting that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and whimper at the firm pressure.

“I’m going to carry you, little wife, don’t close your eyes.” No longer wasting time, the man did just that.

He picked up your frame like nothing, but the action let out a pulsing fiery pain from the wound, earning a loud cry to spill from your lips. Geta frowned, mumbled some incoherent apology as his legs skidded across the stone floors.

Your head bobbed as the emperor picked up his pace, his voice sounded as if water blocked your ears. It was muffled—uneven.

Noticing your slackened form and droopy eyes, Geta let out a desperate cry. “Stay with me. We’re almost there.”

“I’m sorry, Geta” his robe scratched against your cheek. So rough, so soft at the same time.

“Don’t be daft, just stay awake!” Geta couldn’t help but keep glancing at you. You and your blinking eyes, that tired, bloody smile.

“Please, forgive me,” sticky fingertips met with the man’s cheek, blood stuck instantly to his pale skin.

“I love you.” The fingers went limp, they dragged down the emperors face leaving a thin line of blood that went towards his chin.

“Stop! Wife, love, please!” His breath grew heavy and his legs shook. Letting out whimpers and moans the man finally had the left wing in sight.

A healer, a healer, a healer—

Bursting through the first door, Geta came to his knees, with you still protectively held in his arms.

Out of breath, the man’s words were chipped and uneven.

“Healer— my wife— now!”

The people in the room dispersed, guards left their post in search for the accuser, the citizens left all together, in fear of seeing such a weakened display, and the healers gathered together, to take the empress from Geta’s hands.

“My lord,” an older white haired gentleman bowed before the orange haired ruler. His hands placed politely before him, he smiled sympathetically at the emperor.

“We will need to remove her from your hold and begin immediately—”

“No.”

Confused expressions emitted through the healers, the elderly man furrowed his brows as he wearily glanced at the bloodied couple.

“No.. my lord?”

“You will do it here. Now.”

“In your.. lap?”

A look of contempt was all that was given, before the white haired man nodded along. Urgently talking amongst his peers. They grabbed sutures, herbs, any medicinals that could possible help, were taken and placed before the two.

“We will begin now, my lord.” A nod was received, Geta’s eyes never strained from your face. He studied each and every freckle, looked upon your tear stained cheeks and down to your grim looking cut.

It would surely scar.

A growl broke out between his lips, startling the helpers in the vicinity.

The fireplace emitted the room in light, graciously allowing the healers to patch up their empress in a lit and warm room.

But such a light had nothing against the burning embers that raged within Geta’s eyes.

For there will be death, that much he was sure.

[multific]

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/

[littlexdeaths]

“you know… i’m kinda into it.”

eddie pulls away from you with a furrowed brow, glancing down at where you’ve been snuggled into the crook of his arm.

“you’re kinda into what, sweetheart?”

you feel a little embarrassed based off his initial reaction, but gesture to the screen nonetheless. where the ginger haired emperor is perched on an ornate chair, man spreading with the smuggest expression on his face. and it’s making you feel things you didn’t expect to.

“the emperor… his cunty persona is kinda doing it for me.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a third head, placing his warm palm over your forehead in mock concern.

“emperor geta? baby, are you feeling okay?”

you playfully shove him off with a slight pout of your lips, “stop teasing me, i’m serious.”

“alright, alright… just didn’t think you were into pompous assholes, sweetheart.” he chuckles.

you both settle back into the lumpy sofa to continue watching the rest of the film. and your boyfriend can’t help but notice the way you press your thighs together whenever the emperor comes on screen. which has him tugging you closer into his embrace with a deep pout.

but you come to a startling realization closer to the end of the film, and you erupt into a fit of giggles.

“… he kinda looks like you, ed.”

“he does not.”

[stylesispunk]

'Hands in the hair of somebody named Marcus'

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

summary: the cursed blood of Geta and Caracalla runs through your veins sealing your fate. However, the General Acacius is willing to fight for you.

w.c: 5k>

warnings: angst, violence, power imbalance,and fluff.

a/n: I had this one in my drafts but after watching gladiator ii twice. I had to finish it and write about my beloved General Acacius because he deserves it. I hope you like it. This may have a part ii depending on its performance. PLEASE DON'T BE MEAN. Reblogs and comments are always. appreciated 💌

| dividers by @/saradika-graphics |

Inhale.

Exhale.

Breathe in, breath out.

There was it, the rattle breathing inside Marcus Acacius lungs. The way life has turned out for him felt like cuts all over his skin.

Sometimes he felt he could even breath from how bloody his hands were. How dirty his name felt to his own honor. How salty his tears felt down his cheeks every night. Every time he closed his eyes at night, the screams pierced through his ears.

Mothers mourning their children.

Men mourning their wives.

Families destroyed.

All because of him.

All because he must have served those two spoiled kids so called emperors of Rome.

And he still couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of you, someone so pure and kind was cursed to share the same blood as them.

Every time he came back to the city. He witnessed on first hand, how badly you were treated by them.  The laughs, the humiliation, the segregation, and how your voice had been silenced just for you to be unwillingly part of a legacy that felt like your back being split in two.

Marcus was aware of the adoration people felt for you, how your kindness had reached to every single person in the empire. People loved you, but you were nothing more than a puppet under their fingers.

And he felt pity for you.

He could see the way your eyes seemed lost in the arena, in the way your hands trembled where Geta or Caracalla looked at you with disgust when you didn't approve of the madness they had arisen under their control.

You were the opposite of them.

You were Kind.

Kind as no one had been on here for so many years. You shared the same dream of Marcus Aurelio.

An empire for the world and a refuge for those in need.

and Marcus looked at you with tenderness in his heart from afar.

Most of the time you didn't acknowledge him. He knew you weren't really fond of him or the idea of him leading armies to claim cities under the glory of Rome.

For you, he was just a general repeating the same cycle of madness.

And you didn't acknowledge him until Geta slapped you on front of him for not showing your gratitude towards him after his returning from battle.

The sting lingered on your cheek after his slap, not from the force but from the humiliation of it. The room fell silent, the tension arose like flames to the fire. Geta and Caracalla, with their arrogant disdain, seemed to punish your perceived disobedience.

But Marcus? His expression shifted, subtle, yet profound. His sharp gaze, so often unreadable, burned with an intensity that wasn’t anger but something close to defiance. He stepped forward, his towering presence demanding the attention of everyone in the room.

“Enough,” Marcus said, his voice calm and gentle, the command laced with quiet fury. The word carried weight, a warning not to be ignored. Your brothers exchanged a glance, clearly displeased but unwilling to challenge the general directly. They turned and left, leaving muttered curses in the air.

The room fell silent once again, and you found yourself standing alone with General Acacius. Your hand hovering your cheek, the skin still warm from Geta’s punishment. You didn’t look up at first, embarrassed not just by the slap but by the realization that Marcus had witnessed it. You had worked so hard to ignore him, to keep him at a distance, but now, there was no avoiding him.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he said softly, his voice a startling contrast to the authority he had wielded moments ago.

You finally raised your eyes to meet his, expecting pity but finding something else entirely different, something softer. “It doesn’t matter,” you murmured, attempting to dismiss it, but he shook his head.

“It does,” Marcus said, taking a step closer. “You shouldn’t have to endure this, least of all from them. They’re your blood”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw him not as the general who commanded armies in your brothers’ name but as a man standing apart from their cruelty. He wasn’t like them, not entirely.

And perhaps, you thought, he never had been.

Your gaze lingered on Marcus for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say something—anything. But you couldn’t. Your throat tightened, and you turned away, moving to the window to avoid the weight of his attention.

“I don’t need your protection,” you said, though the words came out softer than you intended. “You’ve done enough by speaking against them. They will get under your skin for it.”

Marcus hesitated, his heavy footsteps echoing as he approached you. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for doing what’s right.”

His words made your chest ache. When was the last time anyone had done what was “right” for you? You stared out at the gardens beyond the window, their beauty feeling distant, unreachable. Your brothers had never cared about right or wrong, only power.

“I don’t understand you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You fight for them. You serve them. And yet…”

“And yet I see who they truly are,” Marcus interrupted gently. “I serve Rome, not their cruelty. There’s a difference.”

You turned to face him, his nearness almost startling. For the first time, his presence didn’t feel overwhelming. Instead, it felt… grounding. Safe. He stood tall, but his expression was open, waiting for you to respond.

“They’ll hate you for standing up for me,” you said, your tone cautious. “They don’t forgive things like that.”

“Let them hate me,” Marcus replied without hesitation. “I won’t stand by and let them treat you as they do.”

The conviction in his voice sent a shiver through you. You wanted to argue, to remind him that opposing your brothers would bring nothing but trouble, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you found yourself studying him. His broad shoulders, the sharp lines of his face, and the way his eyes softened when they rested on you.

“I don’t need anyone fighting my battles,” you said, though even you weren’t sure if you believed it. “I’ve survived this long on my own.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he replied, stepping closer, his voice low but steady. “You deserve better than survival.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words pressing against you. Before you could respond, Marcus straightened, his demeanor shifting as if sensing he had said too much. He nodded once, a gesture of respect, before stepping back.

“I should leave you to rest,” he said. “You’ve been through enough today”

Your breath caught at the sound of his voice, so steady and sincere, the words lingering in the air like a balm to your frayed nerves. You wanted to reach out, to say something and stop him, but you hesitated, unsure of what held you back.

Marcus took another step away, his broad shoulders tense, as though leaving you was harder for him than he let on. His words, though respectful, carried a tone of finality that made your heart twist.

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reluctant. He bowed slightly, taking your hand in his, and kissing it as his dark eyes met yours, “My lady.”

As if his words had worked as a kind of manifesto, the “soon” came no long after.

There you were in the gardens, barefoot, with your wild hair looking at the moon shining over the town you had been forced to call it home.

Marcus could see from your posture to your void eyes when you were there in the middle of your brothers, faking enthusiasm, while inside your bones you hate with passion this torturous show.

You didn't wish to be cruel to the world but kind.

You didn't wish to see blood coming out from innocent men who had fallen prey under the hands of the cruelty of the roman empire.

And you were exhausted of seeing and hearing the cheering of people celebrating death as a spectacle.

You didn't want this to be your life but just a nightmare you were going to wake from too soon.

And now, as Marcus could see the moon reflecting on your face. He was able to see through the golden jewelry and the soft material of your dress, he could see a soul pleading to the moon to set her free.

Something must have alerted you. You turned around facing him hiding under his cloak.

"General Acacius?" You whispered, closing your eyes a bit to take his form under the soft light of the moon.

"My lady" he replied softly, with respect to his tone.

“What are you doing here?” you breathed, your voice trembled under his gaze.

He hesitated for mere seconds, his gaze intense as it locked onto yours. “I could ask you the same, my lady,” he replied, a trace of sweetness in his tone. “It seems even those closest to the emperors need to escape from time to time.”

A silence fell between you, charged with a tension that both thrilled and unsettled you. The few stolen glances you’d shared over the past days had spoken volumes, but you had never dared to hope his heart could be beating as fast as yours in your presence.

You turned around again, your back to him. "I love coming here to look at the moon. " You spoke, breaking the silence "This seems to be the only place my brothers haven't tainted yet."

"How they don't know about this place?"

"My father sent this place to be built for his only daughter." You replied, and Marcus could notice how the corners of your lips graced with a smirk, even from behind. "A place for her to be a girl."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, General. Women seem to be useless for having a voice, less for ruling an Empire. Everything I can do is stay here and feel like I own something." You hold your voice for a minute, “I’m just a statue waiting to crumble.”

Marcus didn't reply to your words and if it wasn't for the sound of his steps getting closer you would have thought he left.

You could see his outline from the corner of your eyes, the way his face had been marked by cruel events you despise. A red mark on his cheek, a few scars on his neck and for brown eyes that contrasted from his hard exterior, shinning under the same moon as yours.

"How did you find this place, General?" You asked, bow fully looking at him. You were wondering how your brothers never knew about this place but him had been the first man to find it, just after his return.

He took a brief look at you from the corners of his eyes. "I would say that something brought me here," he paused for a moment, "but it seems like it was you, my lady."

You had to hold your breath for a moment. You didn't expect such words from Marcus. He was the beloved general of Rome. But to your eyes he was still a man who had built his honor from cruelty or that was what you thought.

"I don't believe so." You replied, despite the rapid beating of your heart, you didn't want to be fooled by a man with soft brown eyes and a heart that seems to be kind. "I do not desire a man to follow me, not less one who is the puppet of the cruelty of all this cold nonsense."

"My lady…"

"Please, you may go now." you said, turning your gaze back to the moon.

Marcus didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he lingered in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the faint torchlight flickering in the hall. His hand rested on the edge of the door, his knuckles tight and pale as if he were restraining himself from saying something he would later regret.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the embers in the hearth. The tension between you felt almost unbearable, a quiet battle waged in silence.

“I know what you think of me,” he finally said, his voice softer now, like the hush of a secret shared in the dark. “You see a man of blood and iron, one who serves an empire that devours cities for the Glory of Rome.” He exhaled slowly, almost as if gathering the strength to continue. “You’re not wrong to think that. There are nights when I wonder if all of this is worth it, if I am worth anything beyond my sword.”

His admission struck something deep within you, though you kept your face turned toward the moon. You refused to let him see the small crack forming in your carefully constructed armor.

“Then why stay?” you asked quietly, your voice carrying an edge of challenge. “Why continue to serve a cause you doubt?”

“I stay because I must,” Marcus said without hesitation. “It is all I have known, and it is all that has been asked of me. But you…” His voice faltered, and you felt the weight of his gaze, though you didn’t dare meet it. “You are different. You are everything this empire is not, kind, unyielding. Someone like you should be the one ruling Rome, the princess.”

You chuckled at the statement “My brothers would send me to death before I’ll have the chance to sit on that throne.”

Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your dress. His words shouldn’t have this effect on you, yet they lingered, stirring something unfamiliar.

“And that is why you should go,” you said, more firmly now. “You’re talking nonsense”

Marcus took a step closer, his steps echoing faintly against the cobblestones “Perhaps I do not belong here,” he said, his tone unwavering, “but that does not mean I will walk away so easily and let this empire fall under your brother’s madness.”

You turned to him then, unable to ignore the quiet determination in his voice. His eyes, those soft brown eyes that had once seemed so dangerous, now held a sincerity you hadn’t expected. For the first time, you saw not a general, but a man, a man who carried the weight of his choices and the burden of his doubts.

“You think you can change my mind?” you asked, your tone sharp despite the unease stirring in your chest.

“No,” Marcus admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I hope, one day, I can show you what I am talking about.”

Before you could reply, he bowed his head slightly, as a gesture of respect rather than submission, and turned to leave.

As the door closed behind him, you stood in the quiet of the garden, your heart beating fast while his words played over in your head.

The arena buzzed with the deafening roar of the crowd, their excitement spilling into the air as dust kicked up from the floor below. You sat stiffly behind Geta and Caracalla, their laughter and sharp whispers grating against your ears. This was how it always was, trapped in their own world, watching their cruelty unfold.

Today, the games were bloodier than usual, the violence more drawn out, as if they relished every clash of blades and every cry of pain. You tried to ignore the chaos, your gaze drifting to the far horizon, where freedom felt like a distant dream in the blue sky.

But then, a movement to your right drew your attention. You turned your head just slightly, your breath catching when you saw Marcus approaching. His expression was calm, unreadable, though his eyes softened ever so slightly when they met yours. Without a word, he settled into the seat next to you.

“General,” you greeted, your voice low.

“My lady,” he replied, his tone equally soft, though there was a subtle warmth in it.

For a while, neither of your spoke. The sounds of the crowd and the clash of weapons filled the silence between you, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.

“They love this,” Marcus finally said, his voice barely audible over the noise.

You didn’t reply, too focused on fidgeting with the material of your dress, your fingers twisting the fabric in small, anxious movements. The tension in your shoulders was noticeable, your gaze fixed on the arena below, though it was clear your mind was far from the bloodshed.

Marcus noticed. He always noticed. After a moment of hesitation, his hand moved, gentle, placing it over yours. His touch was warm, steady, and it stopped the restless motion of your fingers.

Startled, you glanced at him, your breath catching as you saw the softness in his expression. There was no judgment, no pity, only quiet reassurance. For a moment, you forgot where you were, the chaos of the arena fading into the background.

But the moment didn’t last.

“Ah, what’s this?” Geta’s voice cut through the din, sharp and mocking.

You flinched, quickly pulling your hand away as Geta turned in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he looked between you and Marcus. His lips curled into a sly grin, the kind that sent a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he drawled, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “Our dear sister has caught the attention of the great general. How… intriguing.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his gaze unwavering as he stared ahead.

Geta leaned back in his seat, his grin widening as an idea seemed to spark in his mind. He turned to Caracalla, nudging him with an elbow. “Brother, I think we haven’t been too generous with our sister, have we?”

Caracalla raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What do you suggest we could do for her?”

Geta’s grin turned wicked, his eyes gleaming with malice. “A little incentive for the games. Let the gods decide her fate.”

Your blood ran cold as you realized what he was suggesting. “Geta, don’t—”

He ignored you, standing abruptly and raising his arms to address the crowd.

“Citizens of Rome!” Geta’s voice boomed over the noise, silencing the arena. “Today, we have a special reward for our brave gladiators. A prize worthy of their strength and valor.”

Caracalla caught on quickly, his laughter echoing through the stands. “Indeed, a prize unlike any other,” he added, his voice dripping with amusement.

You shot to your feet, panic rising in your chest. “Geta, stop this!”

He turned to you, his smile cruel. “Sit down, sister. This is for the glory of Rome.”

You didn’t move, but your voice faltered, your protests drowned out by the cheers of the crowd as Geta announced his decree.

“The victor of this fight,” he declared, “shall win not only their freedom but also the hand of our beloved sister.”

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers, their excitement deafening.

Beside you, Marcus remained seated, his expression unreadable. But you could see the storm brewing in his eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he processed what had just happened.

And for the first time, you saw something in him that you hadn’t before, a quiet, burning fury, one that made you wonder just how far he would go to defy your brothers.

"They offered me as a price." You whispered to Marcus who was offering his arm for you to hold, as you tried to keep your composure.

You felt humiliated.

You felt that men owned you and despised the feeling.

Marcus didn’t respond right away. His arm remained steady, extended for you to hold, a silent offer of support. His face, though unreadable, betrayed hints of a restrained anger—anger that wasn’t directed at you, but at the cruelty of your brothers, the twisted spectacle they had made of your dignity.

“They did,” he finally murmured, his voice low but firm, so only you could hear. “And they will answer for it.”

You hesitated, your hand trembling slightly before resting on his arm. The gesture was subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but between the two of you, it felt like a silent pact. Marcus guided you to sit back down, his movements deliberate, as if shielding you from the prying eyes of the crowd.

“Hold your head high,” he said quietly, leaning just close enough for his words to reach you. “You are not a prize. You are a queen in all but name.”

His words, though softly spoken, struck a chord deep within you. They carried a weight that steadied the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you—humiliation, anger, and a raw, aching vulnerability you despised feeling. You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to sit straighter, your gaze fixed on the arena even as your chest burned with resentment.

The fight began, the clash of swords and the roar of the crowd filling the air. The gladiators fought with a ferocity that was almost unbearable to watch, knowing that your fate hung in the balance of their blades. You despised every second of it, despised the men in the arena who saw you as a reward to be claimed, despised the crowd who cheered for your subjugation, and most of all, despised your brothers for orchestrating this humiliation.

And yet, as the fight dragged on, your attention kept flickering to Marcus. He hadn’t moved, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on the arena with an intensity that made your heart race. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, fingers tightening with every blow exchanged below.

“They cannot do this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with barely contained anger. “They cannot decide my life like this.”

“They can try,” Marcus replied, his tone like steel. “But they will not succeed.”

His words were cryptic, but there was something in his voice, a quiet, unshakable resolve that made you glance at him. For a moment, you wondered if he already had a plan, if his mind was racing with strategies to undo the cruelty your brothers had unleashed.

The fight ended abruptly, the crowd roaring as the victor emerged, bloodied but triumphant. Your stomach churned as the man was announced, his grin wide as he looked up to the podium where you sat. You felt Marcus tense beside you, his hand gripping his sword so tightly you feared it might snap.

“Don’t,” you whispered urgently, sensing the storm about to break within him. “Please, Marcus.”

But he didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the victor below. And for the first time, you wondered just how far Marcus would go, not just to defy your brothers, but to protect you from their cruelty.

The victor's triumphant roar echoed through the arena, and the crowd erupted into wild cheers. You couldn’t bear to look at the man below, his eyes alight with the promise of his prize—you. Your stomach churned with revulsion, and your breathing quickened, panic clawing at your chest.

“Come,” Marcus said quietly, his voice cutting through the noise. His hand found yours again, firm but not forceful, and this time, you didn’t hesitate to take it. The heat of his palm against yours grounded you, gave you a tether to hold onto as you stood on unsteady legs.

You didn’t wait for your brothers’ gloating remarks or the smug expressions on their faces. Without a word, you let Marcus guide you away, his presence shielding you from the leering eyes of the crowd. The noise of the arena began to fade as you descended the steps, replaced by the rapid beating of your heart.

The corridors beneath the stands were dimly lit, the cool air a welcome reprieve from the suffocating heat of the arena. You kept your gaze forward, refusing to look back, refusing to give your brothers or the victor the satisfaction of seeing your fear. But inside, you were trembling.

“Marcus,” you finally whispered, your voice breaking. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere they can’t touch you,” he replied, his tone low and steady. His hand tightened around yours, a silent vow that he wouldn’t let you face this alone.

The two of you emerged into the open courtyard behind the arena, the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone walls. The sounds of the crowd were distant now, muffled by the heavy doors that closed behind you. You stopped walking, pulling your hand from his and turning to face him.

“They’ll come for me,” you said, your voice laced with frustration and fear. “They won’t let this stand. Geta and Caracalla—”

“They’ll have to go through me first,” Marcus interrupted, his tone sharp, his brown eyes fierce. “And I promise you, my lady, they won’t succeed.”

You stared at him, his words sinking in. He looked every bit the general now, strong, resolute, and unyielding. And yet, there was something else in his gaze, something softer that made your chest tighten. He wasn’t just protecting you out of duty or honor. There was something personal in the way he looked at you, in the way he stood so close, as though shielding you from the world.

"I can fight in the arena" he said, "for you."

You stared blankly at him, shocked at your core.

"What would you win from that? Do you want to own me like those men?" You asked.

"I do not wish to own you, my lady. You're not property. You're a free woman, and If I win, I'll become your husband and you would never have to endure those humiliations ever again."

"Just because I would be yours." You whispered, still broken at the thought of not being enough.

"You would be my wife, not my property." He clarified, "I will live and fight to keep your honor just as you deserve"

You looked away, heart pounding, his words washing over you like laurels over your skin. A part of you longed to believe him, to let his offer pull you from the grip of your family’s ambitions. But fear clung tightly, rooted in years of being nothing more than a pawn in your brothers' power games.

"General…" you murmured, voice wavering. "If you fight for me, you put yourself in danger. And if you fall, my life will only become darker, lonelier. I don’t want your blood on my hands."

He stepped closer, his eyes steady, fierce. "I would rather risk everything than stand by while you suffer. You deserve a life where you choose, where you're loved, not used."

Your throat tightened, emotions swelling. "But if you fight and lose, you’d be at their mercy. They’d make you a symbol. A warning to anyone else who dares to defy them."

He lifted your hand, pressing it to his heart. "Then let them try," he said, his voice unyielding. "For you, my lady, I would face even the wrath of the empire."

His touch was gentle, but his resolve was unbreakable. In that moment, you realized he wasn’t just a man willing to fight for you, he was someone who saw you as more than a title, more than a sister to emperors. He saw you, truly.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you risk this for me?”

For a moment, he hesitated, the stoic mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the man beneath. “Because you deserve more than to be treated as a pawn in their games,” he said finally. “And because I…” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if the words were too much to say aloud. “You don’t deserve this.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion.

"Acacius… if you truly wish to do this," you whispered, your fingers trembling in his, "then I will stand by your side, come what may."

He smiled, a rare softness breaking through his stoic exterior. "Then we’ll face them together, my lady. And if they stand in our way…" His eyes darkened, a spark of defiance glinting within them. "They’ll learn that love is a force they cannot control"

"Do you believe you could come close to loving me?" You asked, heart pounding.

His reply didn’t come from words. Instead, he squeezed your hand over his heart.

His words lingered in the air, hanging between you like the delicate balance of a fragile moment. You searched his face, his steady eyes holding yours as if daring you to see the sincerity in them. For all his strength, for all his might as a general, Marcus stood before you as something else entirely. A man laying his heart bare.

Your breath hitched as his hand moved from yours to gently cradle your cheek, his touch warm and careful, as if he feared you might pull away. You didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you leaned into his palm, your heart pounding so loudly you thought he must hear it.

“May I?” he murmured, his voice soft and hesitant, as though you were something precious, he was afraid to break.

You nodded, unable to speak, your eyes fluttering closed as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative and light, testing the waters of your comfort. It was not the kiss of a conqueror or a man accustomed to taking what he wanted. It was the kiss of someone who had been waiting, who had held back his own desires out of respect for you.

The first touch was fleeting, but when he felt you relax into him, he deepened the kiss, his other hand settling on your waist to anchor you against him. The world around you faded. The distant noise of the Coliseum, the threat of your brothers, even the weight of your own fear. All that remained was the warmth of his lips, the steady beat of his heart beneath your other hand.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet that followed. “Loving you,” he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion, “would be the easiest battle I’ve ever fought.”

[mykuup]

Λ𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘝𝘔 (toward pleasure)

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My Masterlist

Summary : Marriage is a fragile thing, like the roman citizens’ opinion. A rumor is heard that the Emperors are still virgins.

And scared for the future of Rome and it’s greatness, everyone is shaming the power as boys can’t rule the big city.

So the Empress will call for your help, forcing you to make a choice between honour and duty.

wc : 6.8k (I know I said around 2.8k on my poll but... 🤷‍♀️)

Warnings : No spoiler from the movie // SMUT // fluff // angst // cheating //oral (f receiving) // masturbation (m receiving) // unprotected piv (it was Antiquity, wrap it irl guys) // loss of virginity // virgin!Geta // soft!Geta // married!reader //  kinda non con at first? // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : Well, well, well… It seems like I was starving as hard as you all guys about him because I… ahem got carried away 👀

I am FERAL his character and I can’t wait to see tiktok edits, fanarts and fic about him. I need my feed to be flooded by his ginger hair and chocolate eyes. Pleeeeaaaaaaaaase 😭😭😭😭

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!  No proof read so every mistakes you would spot is my own as I can’t see shit anymore 😅🧡

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai

(feel free to dm me if you want to be added/removed from the taglist 🧡)

You’ve always lived in the palace, but you weren’t the lucky one owning it. From the day you were born, you roamed the same corridors as the royal family, knowing you would never become a part of their world. Your father served as a cook, your mother as a loyal handmaiden, and you—at just four years old—became another fixture of the Emperor’s household.

That was the same year Empress Julia gave birth to her second son. While she nursed the future of Rome, you began to work and achieve small tasks. Yet Julia, ever kind-hearted, allowed you moments of reprieve so you could play alongside her sons. Your join laughter echoing through the marble halls making her smile with tenderness. And for a fleeting time, it felt as if you belonged here.

But childhood innocence is something fragile, and it suddenly shattered when Emperor Septimus Severus left Rome for battle. His sons —Caracalla and Geta—began to change. Their bond frayed in their father’s absence, giving way to bitter rivalries and arguments, that spilled into the halls, their harsh words cutting through the air in front of servants.

They still softened a bit when they saw you. The boys, so cruel to each other, grew gentler in your presence, their voices dipping low as if you held the power to quiet the storm. By the time, the gap between your lives widened, your days consumed with the duties of a servant. But even so, their glances lingered. You weren’t a child anymore, but a beautiful young woman—your features refined and your presence magnetic. Their teenagers’ eyes betray the stirrings of something deeper as they notice the curves of your figure and the softness of your lips. And perhaps, they envied each other for noticing you first.

Everything changed when their father died on the battlefield. Septimus Severus was sent to Eboracum to claim the land as a part of the Roman Empire, and he wanted his sons to join him in learning how to fight and seeing what it was like to win a battle. But fate decided otherwise, and after the tragic death of Septimus, Caracalla, and Geta returned to Rome as Emperors. From that day, the jealousy, and cruelty between them grew more and more evident. As their mother tried her best to make it look like a healthy and happy family who could be trusted to rule Rome, the Senate, and the servants knew what was truly happening within the palace walls. And then, rumors slithered outside the golden doors and the luxurious gardens, and the citizens of Rome began to amplify everything they heard.

You weren’t living in the palace anymore as you had married a fabric seller several months before the brothers’ return. But you heard about them as soon as they were back in Rome, and every rumor you heard was more horrible than the last. You knew Caracalla and Geta, but you didn’t want to believe they could tear each other’s throats apart in front of everyone. You were scared. You were scared for your parents who were still working there. Scared for Rome and its greatness, and scared for their mother, Julia. You remember how kind she was and how deeply she loved her sons. 

One day, as you were shopping in the dusty streets of Rome, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned around, and your eyes widened with happiness when you saw who was calling.

‘Mother! What are you doing here?’ You both hugged each other tight, happy to meet under the midday sun.

‘Let me look at you; you’re so pretty!’ she said as she took your hand to make you twirl on your feet. It’s been a while since you haven’t seen your parents, the palace wasn’t open for citizens and you weren’t part of the servants anymore. When you look back at your mom, you raise a brow, wondering why she suddenly looked so serious. ‘Is there somewhere safe to talk?’ she asked, her smile faltered a bit.

You took her hand and led her to your little house right outside the city center. Your husband was away, buying new fabrics in the countryside. After the long walk, you poured a glass of wine for your mom and asked her why she was there.

‘My sweet child, the Empress asked for you,’ she simply said, and your eyes widened in shock.

‘What are you saying?!’

Your mom continues, ‘Julia asked me to reach out to you. She needs your help with one of her sons…’ The way she trailed off her sentence made you freeze in place.

Your brain tried to make sense of what she was saying, and finally, you understood. The rumor. Every Roman citizen was whispering about the emperors and their behavior, but over the past few weeks, a particular rumor had started circulating the streets, and it was a harsh one.

How could a boy rule our great city?! He’s not even a man, just a spoiled little boy!

‘Mom, what are you truly asking me?’ you enquired, scared of her answer. But she got up and took both of your hands in hers. ‘Come back with me to the palace and talk with the Empress, that’s all.’

You sighed. ‘It sounds easy when you put it that way. What about my husband?’ Your mother sighed in return, knowing too well why you were worried. She looked at you, ‘Please, she’s desperate. And maybe if they see you around, they’ll stop fighting for a while, like—’. You cut her off, ‘Mother, we’re not kids anymore. They’re cruel, brutal human beings. We were never friends anyway; it was just work. It always has been…’

Your mother sighed. ‘You’re right.’ She let go of your hands and finished her glass of wine. ‘But Julia has always been good to us, and as a citizen of Rome, you have to answer when your Empress is calling for you.’

You sighed, knowing your mother was right, and that couldn’t go against the Empress’s command. You looked at your mom, grabbed her arm, and the two of you left your little cottage to walk back toward the palace.

You remembered this marble floor too well. The scent of fresh flowers and exotic fruits was still lingering, a sweet souvenir of your years spent here. It was late in the afternoon, and your mom let you wander into the palace as she needed to get back to work. She knew you would remember your way between all those doors and corridors. As you were heading to the Empress’s quarters, you heard the servants chatter and laugh, like they were making fun of something.

You cross the long hallways, passing by Caracalla’s side of the palace. The brothers were now living in different parts of the palace as they weren’t really getting each other. Their mother tried everything to ease the build-up of tension between her sons but nothing could change their minds. You take a turn before crossing Geta’s hallway and walk until you reach a big golden door watched by two centurions. One of them opens the door for you and you walk into the Empress’s room.

Golden light filtered in from the high, narrow windows of the Empress’s accommodation, casting long shadows over the marble floor. The room was opulent yet stifling, filled with the silent weight of power and expectation. As you clear your throat, Julia slowly turns away from her gold mirror, her dark eyes reflecting worry and a glimmer of resolve. 

‘You’re here,’ she murmured, her voice steady but laced with an unspoken relief. She rose from her seat to greet you with a hug, as you had always been part of her world. ‘Gods be praised your mom finds you!’ You could see her eyes sparkling with hope and a big smile was enlightening her face. But you wanted to be careful and not raise her hopes too high.

‘Your Highness, my mom told me—’, she gently cuts you off. ‘Oh please my dear, you can call me Julia, it’s not like you're a stranger in this palace.’ You smile and you continue as she offers you a glass of honey wine. ‘Julia, my mom told me you needed my help. I’m here to listen to you and do my best but I’m not sure I’m the one you’re looking for.’

She sighed and walked toward the little balcony. She looked at the flowers underneath, enjoying the last rays of the dying sun, and she whispered your name, ‘I’m pretty sure you heard about the rumors.’

You hum, feeling the pain it causes to her. ‘I’ve watched you all grow up within these walls. You became a very beautiful woman and my sons became Emperors.’ Her gaze softened when she turned to look at you again. ‘And as much as I tried my best to raise them the right way, I’ve failed. And now everyone in these damn streets is insulting our family…’

‘Julia, you didn’t fail as a mother. You didn’t fail as being the Empress of Rome!’ You affirm as you join her on the balcony. ‘They were children when they lost their father, this could have messed up something in their mind…’

You stopped yourself here, already regretting how wrong it came out. But the Empress knew too well that their sons—only one truly, had a problem, and you were kinda right. She exhales, taking your hands in hers and looking straight into your eyes. ‘One of them is still a child in the citizens’ eyes…’ Your eyes wander into hers, trying to understand what she is talking about. ‘So I need a favor from you, something delicate, involving you and my son,’ she paused to let you process. Your eyes widened in shock when you finally understood what she was implying and fear flooded you. You swallow hard, trying to find the right words.

‘Julia… I can’t do that, I’m married and—’ she stopped you. ‘That’s why I’m asking you. I know you would be perfect for that. And I know that he trusts you, even if you both haven’t seen each other for a long time.’

You were completely taken aback and before you could retort something, she continued. ‘I wish I could ask you that as a friend, but duty is making me ask you as the Empress. He’s my son and the Emperor of our great Rome. Citizens have to trust him and enemies fear him. As long as he remains a child in a golden robe, no one will be afraid to stand up to him. Caracalla needs to get away from the power and I’m already working on it, that’s why I need you to meet Geta.’

You feel a wave of relief when you understand you will not be coldly tortured by Caracalla tonight. The oldest was the more tortured, acting like a child not capable of thinking by himself. He was the one who craved for violence and wanted to hurt the maximum of people, not caring about feelings. Geta was cruel too but when you think about it, it was maybe because of his brother…

‘Julia I—’

‘I’m not asking to marry him, even if I would be pleased to have you as the new Empress. I just need you to teach him love.’ You snort, but guilt flooded you when you saw the despair in her eyes. You let her hands go and paced back into her room, pinching the bridge of your nose. It was unreal, yet you couldn’t let down the Empress's demand.

‘One time. And no one must know.’ you simply said, and suddenly you could see in Julia’s eyes the reviving hope for her son and for Rome. 

The moon was rising on the warm summer night as a servant finished putting some flowers in your hair. The Empress let you take a bath and borrow one of her silk dresses. You were stressed because you had no idea how you would bring Geta into this. It was quite delicate and not a usual subject to talk about with your Emperor…

The hallways felt bigger around you, the walls incredibly high. The marble was cold as ice under your bare feet despite the warmth of the air. You took a deep breath and swallowed hard as you stopped before Geta’s door. It was massive. Gold lions and flowers were craved in the heavy wood. But no one was keeping it. The Empress asked the centurion to go away for the night, pretending Caracalla needed to be watched over. You didn't even knock on the door, pushing it with all your strength and letting it close by itself once you were inside. The slam of the door made Geta startled and he stormed out from the other room to see who was intruding on his space. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. His clenched fist loosened, and the rage that was invading him let its place for something else. Surprise and defiance.

‘Good evening Your Highness.’ you simply say with a little smile. You wanted to look comfortable enough to gain his trust so he could, maybe, relax a bit and get into his mother’s plans the easiest way possible.

Geta checked you in from head to toe, taking his time. He noticed the several flowers tangled in your curls, how your skin was a little bit flushed, and how your chest was rising heavily. He took a second look here as the valley between your breasts was on display, the delicate silk only covering a little of your body. When his eyes trailed down, he could see two huge slits letting your legs and thighs appear under the torchlight. His jaws clenched and he tilt his head, waiting for you to talk again. You cleared your throat as he wasn’t helping you at this moment. The way he detailed you made you uncomfortable but you couldn’t walk back now. You take a step closer, your eyes locked into his. Instinctively, Geta took a step back. You stopped and tried to relax; you needed him to trust you for this, even though he was still ignoring why you were here in the first place.

‘Geta,’ your voice soft and laced with something he couldn’t picture yet. ‘Do you remember me?’ You wanted to go easy on him. You knew how tense he was because of his brother and now that you were here anyway, you could take all the time you needed. You could see his shoulder relaxing a bit but his hands were still clasped tightly on his robe.

‘Why are you here?’ he suddenly asked and you were surprised by his voice. It’s been so long since you haven’t heard him. He hadn’t a really low voice but he sounded like a man already. You wanted to avoid this particular question at all costs, but it was obvious that he would have asked after all those years…

You decided to tell the truth in your own way. ‘I’m here to help you.’ You walk toward him, ignoring how he was pacing back every time you were getting close. ‘I can see how tense and on edge you are. I’m simply here to help you release all the steam.’

Geta arched a brow at your statement but before he could say something, his back hits the wall behind him. You were still approaching closer and it felt like he was missing air right now as he was trapped between you and the stone wall. For the first time in his entire life, Geta was unsure of himself, not knowing how to behave as he couldn’t read the situation. You stop right before him, letting only a few inches between you two. Geta’s eyes flitted to your breasts then to your eyes and you almost missed the soft pink rising on his cheeks.

‘If you want to talk, I can listen. If you want to scream your lungs out, I’ll be there to bring you honey wine.’ You took a step back to give him some space and turned around to wander into his room. ‘I just want to make sure you’re feeling better once I leave this place for good.’ you add with a smile as you pace yourself in the second part of his quarters.

His bedroom was luxurious, heavy embroidered curtains were draped on each side of the window, letting the soft hum of the breeze come in. Carpets made of fur were all around his large canopy bed. Several pillows made of wool were adorning the linen and gold sheets. As you were detailing your surroundings, Geta’s soft voice calling your name made you turn around.

‘Are you here because of the rumors?’ His flat tone made you feel guilty. You could see the sadness in his eyes as he was looking anywhere but in your direction. You could feel his shame and the silent rage that was storming inside of him. He was boiling and you knew he would be capable of killing everyone who would mock him for that.

‘Geta,’ you called and his eyes snapped to yours. ‘I’m here as a friend.’ You weren’t sure it was the right word until you saw the same sparkle you saw earlier in his mother’s eyes. Hope.

‘Friend?’ he repeated, not sure you pronounced it. You smile and nod. ‘You’re my only friend.’ he added and your heart broke at the statement. You weren’t truly his friend, you never were. But at this moment, you would agree to be whatever he needed to feel better. You had sympathy for him, you didn’t know why and didn’t want to look further into it. He swallowed hard, and slowly walked toward you, as if afraid you would disappear if he was too brusque.

‘Why don’t you sit on the bed with me so we can talk?’ you say as you pat the part of the bed beside you. The young Emperor sat, avoiding his body to brush yours. He dared to take a look at your face and lips before looking down as if he was ashamed. ‘I don’t want to talk.’ he responded, his voice wavering.

‘It’s okay’ a soft smile playing across your lips, your hand coming to rest gently on his shoulder. You felt him tense immediately, his cheeks turning red and his eyes wide. ‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ you assured him. ‘Everyone begins somewhere and—’ he rose to cut you off but you knew him too well. ‘Everyone, even emperors and empresses. So it would be my honor to show you if that’s what you wish.’ He nodded quickly, his eyes darting the floor again, and you could see his hands tense with anxiety. You reach out, letting your fingers gently brush over his rings and knuckles. ‘It’s alright Geta,’ you whispered. ‘Let me guide you. We’re friends remember? You can trust me.’ 

The young man lifted his gaze to yours, and you felt his whole body ease under your calming touch and voice. You pause, giving him time and space to relax before drawing him a bit closer. His breath was short and you could almost feel his heart beating fast. ‘I…I won’t pretend that I know how any of this works I—no one ever explained it to me and…’ Geta was stumbling upon his words, but you squeezed his hand to bring him back. ‘Start by letting yourself breathe.’ you instructed, your voice warm but firm. ‘The hardest part is to simply allow yourself to let go. Start here.’ You placed his hand over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your fingertips. ‘Take in each breath, slowly.’

Geta looked at you, searching for mockery or judgment. But all he could see was your genuine smile and the reassurance in your eyes. And like that, his breathing softened. You notice that fear leaves his eyes, replaced by a curious vulnerability. He watches you with quiet awe as you continue to speak.

‘It’s not about what you don’t know,’ you told him, your tone soothing. ‘It’s about being here with someone else, and sharing yourself—whatever that means.’ You lift his hand to feel his fingertips lightly on your cheek. ‘See? Nothing to fear.’

A hint of relief flickered over his features as he let out a nervous laugh. Geta let his shoulders and his whole body relax as he grew more comfortable thanks to you. ‘You make it sound so simple,’ he admitted his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to disrupt the moment. He was already so lost in you, all he wanted was for this night to never end.

‘It is,’ you say softly. ‘When you stop thinking about what’s expected, it becomes simple. Just follow your instincts, and let yourself… feel.’ Your words were gentle as your hand still guided his, showing him how to move without hesitation.

Gradually, Geta’s movement became steadier, his initial awkwardness fading. He was more confident as you kept your eyes locked in his. His hand shyly travels from your jaw to your temple, softly brushing away a fallen lash. You hum in encouragement, sensing his confidence growing and you offered a smile as he slowly took the lead, your presence anchoring him. His other hand cupped your other cheek as his thumb brushed your plush lips. He looked at you with something like wonder, a smile tugging at his lips. ‘I never knew it could feel like this,’ he confessed, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

You genuinely smile at his reaction and, without second-guessing, your hands landed on his shoulders to pull him closer. You slowly close your eyes. ‘This can always feel like this if you find the right person,’ you murmured as you felt his breath on your lips. And suddenly you froze. Pictures of your husband coming back to you. It was just for a second but Geta felt your body goes stiff at his touch. Concerned he did something bad, he pulled back and walked away from the bed. ‘I—did I hurt you? Have I done something wrong?’, his face and tone were only panic. 

‘No, you’ve done nothing wrong I just…’ You weren’t sure it was a good idea to tell him what was on your mind at that moment. He trusted you, and he was doing great. You couldn’t jeopardize everything. You shake your head to empty your mind and join him in the middle of the room. ‘I’m sorry,’ your voice a whisper. Geta hesitated for a bit but his hands finally found your body again. He felt like he could burn your delicate skin if he wasn’t cautious. He calls your name tenderly. ‘I know I’m not the right person for you,’ he said, referring to what you said earlier. ‘But you are to me. And it feels like I don’t have to be afraid of anything as long as I’m in your arms.’

You were surprised by his sudden softness. ‘Oh Geta,’ you sigh as you let your fingers tangle in his ginger hair. Your lips graze his mouth and you could hear him taking a deep breath. ‘Close your eyes,’ you simply say right before kissing him. The young man melted into your touch, your lips tasting divine. And at this time, he never thought he could be closer to the Gods. You pulled out gently, a soft chuckle escaping your lips when you saw his flushed face. ‘Fear isn’t needed here, Geta,’ you said softly, your fingers still massaging the back of his neck. ‘In this, you don’t have to play the part of the emperor. Just be yourself. Let go of what you’re expected to be.’

Geta’s chocolate eyes widened at your words, and he felt a strange sensation wash over him—relief, liberation even. He hadn’t realized how heavy the weight of his title felt until it was lifted, even for one night. With a quiet exhale, he met your gaze, a new light in his deep brown eyes.

‘And who am I, here, then?’ he asked, his voice low. ‘Who am I, without the crown?’ You gently pick up the crown of golden leaves that was adorning his head and put it on the little wooden table near you. When you came back to him, you cupped his face between your hands softly. ‘You are simply a man,’ you replied, your voice gentle. ‘A man who’s learning, one who can make mistakes. And there is no judgment here. Just a fact.’

Slowly, Geta allowed himself to let go. He leaned in closing the gap between you to kiss your lips again. You hum as his hands begin to explore your body—tentatively, at first, but growing steadier with each gentle touch. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and you couldn’t ignore the pleasant sensation growing inside of you. A soft moan escaped from your mouth, encouraging Geta even more. His lips traveled from yours to the delicate skin of your neck and you couldn’t help yourself. ‘Good,’ you whispered. ‘Trust your instincts, you are doing wonderfully.’

Geta felt the rush of your words pulse through him, your assurance a balm to his anxieties. And for the first time in his life, he felt his body reacted to yours. It was a strange sensation, like his blood was boiling. But it was sweet and warm. He kept kissing your neck and slowly started to trail kisses down your shoulder and your arm, his fingers finding the pulse at your wrist, drawing soft circles. He took your hand to put a chaste peck on your knuckles and spoke again. ‘I would like to take this off. I—I want to see you,’ he asked, looking directly into your eyes. You could see his chest heavily rising underneath his toga as he was anticipating your answer. You gently nodded and started to undo the pins at your shoulders when he stopped you. ‘Please, let me do it for you.’ You bite your lip, your eyes never leaving his.

Geta took his time, pulling out every golden pin, detangling every knot of fabric to take away the soft silk from your body. He let it pool at your feet, kneeling at the same time before you. You step off and stand before him. From up here, his eyes were almost pleading like a lost puppy. 

But what he was witnessing was something else.

You were a Goddess blessing him with your light, your warmth, and your beauty. He let go of your dress and gently took your ankle. You were balancing on your other leg when he started to kiss your forefoot. One of his hands crawled up to the hollow of your knee to secure you. And then, he left a trail of kisses from your ankle to your tibia and kept crawling up until he reached your inner thigh.

Never once did his deep brown eyes look away from yours.

He enjoyed seeing how you were reacting to his touch, and Gods blessed him he loved to touch you. His fingers were gently squeezing the fat of your thigh until he felt the beginning of your buttcheek. Your breath was as heavy as his, but the eagerness you noticed in his look was something you’d never seen before. You tilt his chin slowly to make him stand again and shiver when both of his hands land on your hips, his many rings a cold contrast with your heated skin. You pull him as you walk you both back to his large canopy bed. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘Always been.’ His newfound confidence turned you on even more and you kiss him again before taking off his toga. The different fabrics were heavy, the wild silk and cotton embroidered with gold threads pieces of clothes joined your dress on the marble floor. And as he did, you took your time to detail every inch of his body. 

His skin was as white as milk, light freckles and moles sparkling his entire being. You could see the subtle of his muscles and a light blonde happy trail under his navel. When your eyes traveled south again, you gulp. This was definitely not the body of a boy before you. No, you were with a man. It was fierce, standing up by itself, the tip already angry red glistening with precum. It looked a bit thicker than what you saw before and some veins could be seen at the underside of his shaft.

Suddenly self-conscious as you were silent for a while, Geta hid himself. ‘I—is this enough?’ he enquires, worried it wasn’t what you would expect. You snap back into reality and look at him, your face mixed with surprise and lust. You strut back to him until his cock was pressing against your belly. The contact made him shiver and you kissed him at the corner of his mouth. Geta hisses in pleasure when you take his grit in your hand. ‘You’re more than enough. It’s… it’s so heavy…’ You moan as you were slowly pumping him.

His mind was racing, his fingers on your hips softly bruising your skin. He wanted to feel every inch of you, kiss every part of your body. Geta wanted to please you, and he wanted to show you the same tenderness you had shown him. ‘Please,’ he whimpered between kisses. ‘I want to taste you better.’

Shivers run down your entire body at his words and you let yourself fall on the mattress, pulling him down with you. Geta was lying above you, keeping his weight away from you as he was resting on his forearms on either side of your head. You let your fingers drift through his hair, bringing his neck closer to your mouth. You kissed his jaw before licking his neck until you found his pulse and suck it gently. He moaned and he instantly wanted to try this on you. He mimicked every gesture, every caress, and the sounds escaping your lips were music to his ears.

Geta was definitely a fast learner. And with a little bit of guidance, his hands were brushing your sides while he was kissing the valley between your breasts. Still following his instinct and his arousal, he gently licked and niped at your nipple, his gaze still locked on your face. Your eyes were closed and your cheek looked like peonies. Without thinking, one of your hands grab your other tit and started to knead it, chasing pleasure. But Geta saw it and replaced your hand with his. You moan his name as your body reacts to his. You arched your back and your legs opened up a bit more, letting Geta lay flat on his stomach between your parted legs. He could feel the soft curls of your pubic hair tickling his abs, and all he wanted to do was discover this new part of you. So he slowly goes down, letting wet kisses on your soft belly until he stops between your center. You quickly rose on your elbows to watch him in awe, eyes wide, fear and uncertainty on your face. ‘Geta you don’t have to—’ but he cuts you off gently. ‘I told you I wanted to taste you. Please…’ he begs, his doe eyes hypnotizing you, his dark pupils even more blown away than before. You couldn’t say no to him when he was looking at you like this. He was like a starved man, a lost believer who finally found his sacred deity.

Geta brushes his lips on your inner thigh as you gently part your legs for him. He inhales your scent, invading his senses. He was already drunk in you. Hesitantly, he started to kiss you, not really knowing where to start. You chuckle at the sensation as he first missed the spot. But you reposition yourself slightly and when he kissed you again, his lips landed right on your clit. A satisfied sigh left your throat and Geta kept kissing you, amazed by how warm your body was there and how he could feel your pulse here. Eager for more, he let his tongue dart at your skin and—‘Gods be damned,’ he spoke. ‘You taste so good, it’s even better than sweet wine…’ You wanted to giggle at his statement but he took you by surprise as he dived back between your legs, now licking between your fold and making out with your pussy. His mouth was all over you and it felt like he was swallowing whole. His hot breath was like a soft caress as his muffled moans resonated through your entire body.

Instinctively, your hands reach for his head, fingers tangling and pulling at his ginger locks, your hips bucking up to chase your own pleasure. But you remember it wasn’t about you and you suddenly felt a bit ashamed that he was the one pleasuring you right now. ‘Ge—Geta please,’ you called at him softly. He detached himself from your core and looked at you. He was beautiful with his pupils all blown out by desire and his glistening chin. ‘Is something wrong?’ he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. But you reassure him. ‘Just come here’, you simply say and he crawled back to face you. You kissed him gently and shifted your position so he was now lying on his back. You straddled his thigh to sit right under his waist and take a look at him. Your fingers traced his slender features, trailing down his chest and abs until you reached his blonde happy trail. Geta took a sharp breath in anticipation. You could see he was aching to be touched, your fingers almost burning him with the most delightful fire. You start to pump him again, his velvety skin smooth in your palm. He whimpers as he lets his head roll back to the pillows. ‘Does it always feel like this?’ he asked between gritted teeth, pleasure already flooding him.

You giggle seeing Geta so desperate under your touch. But it wasn’t mockery. You were sincerely mesmerized by how responsive he was and how much he needed someone to be gentle with him. ‘It’s only the beginning,’ you whisper as you lean in closer to his face. ‘There’s more if you want to.’  His eyes snapped back at you in awe like you were saying nonsense to him. How could it be possible to feel better than he was already feeling? You tenderly caress his face and kiss his lips. ‘Is this a yes?’, you ask between kisses and he mumbles his answer like a whiny plea. ‘Pl—yes please!’ You kiss him one last time and position yourself right above him. His eyes never left yours as you were doing your ministration, his hands landing on your hips once again.

He could be used to that.

You tilt your head as a final question and slowly sit on him as he nods. Geta gasp when the head of his cock sunk in your pussy. You were hot, wet and it was so… so soft. You kept sliding down on him slowly to accommodate to his size, his length stretching you delightfully. His grasp on your hips tightened, leaving bruises in its wake as you kept yourself steady with a hand splayed on his chest, your body already arching back with pleasure. Once you were fully sat on him, Geta felt overwhelmed. At this moment he thought he was dead and that you were a Goddess sent by Olympus to take good care of him. But your voice moaning his name called him back to reality. ‘How do you feel?’ you ask. And he finally dared to look where your bodies were connected. His eyes trailed from your center to your breast and then to your face. And what a view. Your skin was all flush with the prettiest pink, your nipples were hard and pointing up, your breath was short and your body was glistening under the candlelight.

‘By the Gods I—you’re so beautiful, it feels so good!’ his tone was almost desperate and you blushed at his compliment. You lean in again, both hands anchoring at his shoulders. ‘Is it okay if I move?’ you ask, and he nods eagerly. ‘Do whatever you want to me.’ His lips crashed on yours to kiss you. And you swallowed his moan when you started to roll your hips slowly. Every sigh, every whine of pleasure escaping from his lips brought you closer to the edge. The way his cock was brushing that sweet spot inside of you, the way he was kissing you… it was infuriating.

Geta wrapped his arms around your body like you were his only lifeline at this point. Your pussy was so tight around him, gripping his girth like a vine, clenching from time to time when he started to move with you, syncing to your rhythm. Your name stumbles from his mouth on repeat, encouraging you to keep going. A deep growl comes out from his chest as he sucked at one of your nipples, the pleasure way too powerful for him to hold back. 

But a flash of lucidity strokes you and you gently push him away on the bed. You couldn’t risk getting pregnant with a possible heir for the empire, or worse, a bastard. And you were already married anyway… 

‘Geta,’ you whispered as you sank one more time onto his cock. ‘We can’t…’ But the emperor was lost in the pleasure and he kept moving to chase his release. You kissed him hard to distract him and pulled him out entirely from you, your hand replacing your now aching pussy. You were missing how full you were with him inside but you had to do it. You squeeze him hard, pumping him faster and faster until he comes, seed spilling on his stomach as he cries out your name.

You didn’t even try to join him, your release already long forgotten. You had done what the Empress asked you to do. Geta was satisfied so you could now leave this place forever and hope for your husband to never discover the whole story. But the man under you had other plans. When you tried to reach for a piece of cloth on the floor, he gently grabbed you by the arm. ‘Wait, where are you going?’ he asked, still a bit high from what just happened. Guilt started to set in deep in your chest. You were thinking about your husband, his kindness radiating, and the love he had for you. But at this moment, it was like he never existed, everything had been swept away by the man lying next to you. Geta had always been in your life but you never thought he could be like this. The softness of his touch and the tenderness of his words to you were something you could never have imagined. Yet, there he was, looking straight at you with a glimpse of panic in his eyes as you were ready to fly away.

‘Nowhere,’ you sigh. ‘I was just reaching for something to clean you up.’ You offered him a little smile and he blushed when you nodded at the mess you both made on his stomach. You carefully wiped away his cum before throwing away the cloth. ‘I never knew it could feel like this,’ he confessed, his voice filled with wonder. He lifted his hand to cup your cheek and his deep brown eyes locked with yours. ‘You—Thank you for everything.’ He kisses you chastely before laying under the heavy covers.

‘I’m glad I could help you, Your Highness.’ you respond and Geta’s heart broke. His name wasn’t on your lips again, and the sudden loss of intimacy felt like a spear in his chest. You saw the disappointment in his eyes so you decided to stay for a moment. You crawled back to the bed next to him, his face lighting up in an instant. His arms hugged your waist and body, keeping you as close to him as possible. ‘I wish we could stay like this forever,’ he mumbles against your forehead as he was slowly drifting off.

After a while, when you were sure he was deep in Morpheus’ arms, you gently untangled yourself from his embrace. You picked up your dress and silently walked away from Geta’s bedroom. You checked on him one last time, his chest heaving softly. ‘I’m so sorry’, you whispered as you leave his quarters, and you didn’t know if it was for him, for your husband, or for yourself.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The fathers of Rome

Marcus/Geta/Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, crying, kissing a bit emotional, birth, family issues, written before the movie came out characters may be different

Summary : Two Emperors and the general of the army all had important duties and responsibilities but by the grace of the gods and with devotion of love the three most influential men find themselves with the news of a pregnant wife. Each of them has a slightly different approach to taking care of his pregnant wife and the birth, because a birth could always go wrong and the gods were rarely merciful.

info : I wanted to write something sweet for the three of them and I know that they could be good fathers (if you romanticize a little bit) now have fun reading and have a nice day.

masterlist

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Marcus Acacius

It was thought that the battlefield was his home and the sword was his wife but few knew that in a vast field of olive trees and wheat fields stood a large villa in which a woman lived with a small household and prayed between her altars to the gods that her beloved husband would return home safely.

A story of a leader of the army of Rome and his wife a former oracle who met him, foretold him his future yet his eyes, his voice and his being would not depart from her own prophecies.

An initial love of safety in times of peace, she appreciated his protective nature in a world that belonged almost entirely to Rome, danger still lurked everywhere. He, in turn, was captured by her grace and care, this devotion to those in need or to himself when she waited on him to heal his wounds and the two felt safe and complete together.

A husband who rushed home on horseback so fast he rode to her from the support posts when the emperors called him back the sleep was won she saw the shadow on the horizon from the balcony and even mounted her horse to meet him, ,,My heart" he embraced her each time still seeing the dirt and emaciation on him after being away for months sometimes years.

His hands closed around her, an embrace, a heartfelt kiss, tears in her eyes when she finally saw him again before they rode back to the villa together, she helped him bathe and wash her before he pulled her into the water himself, not wanting to leave her side and unable to do so for too long, he had missed her, not only her lovely eyes, her voice that he loved to listen to, her hair that he ran through and her hands that he clasped every time he wanted to be close to her but couldn't in public.

But with such intimacy comes love and with love comes desire, desire for each other, desire for each other's bodies and this desire was pursued many nights and on some bright days they were also close until he had to leave again, for the next raid not knowing that only two months after he was gone he received a letter with scrawled writing full of excitement.

A letter that moved him to tears when he read it for the first time, ,,I'm going…to be a father" he mumbled to himself in his tent above and above he realized that love for each other would grow into a life, a little baby that would look like both of them and a big smile stayed on his lips as he hurriedly wrote back to her expressing his joy and his heart, how excited he was himself, how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and praying to the gods that the battle would be won quickly.

The letters changed from weekly to daily as her pregnancy progressed and he received drawings of what she looked like, along with dried flowers she was growing that were made into tea and tinctures to help her body.

The couple were happy with words, kisses seemed to spread across the infinity and she was sent a piece of clothing by Marcus and remembered that he would return to her and their child.

Everything went well until he received the letter that she would go into labor in the next few days, the war took longer than expected, but it was the first and only time he gave his sergeant the lead and started the journey back on his own responsibility, which would take several days, but he had to go to her the fear and worry that something could go wrong that he would lose her or that the child was not healthy.

Fear and worry clutched at his heart as he drove his horse faster and faster as fast as he could back home where he burst through the front door and heard the screams of pain that scared him to death calling her name, he hurried up the stairs to the shared bedroom where he found her crouching by the bed, apparently lying down would lead to complications.

,,Love I'm-I'm here everything will be fine" he murmured hastily pressing kisses on her hand which she immediately grasped painfully and screamed again as she tried to get their child out of her, he could still see the love for him in her tear-stained eyes on her sweat-smeared body they were both covered in blood from the death of the battlefield and the birth of new life as she continued to push and the midwife helped her too.

She screamed out his name her pain and Marcus became more and more afraid of losing her with every pain she had as she continued to hold her giving her courage and hope when his own hands trembled as he heard the ,,I can see the head my lady keep pushing" from the midwife who did everything she could to make the birth as easy as possible.

,,You can do it my heart I'm here push again" he whispered to her as she looked at him in pain he saw the fear and yet the deniability that he was with her before she let out one last scream and he heard a bright scream next to blood splattering on the floor, a bright scream that echoed and seemed never to stop.

,,Congratulations, a healthy baby boy!" the older woman announced, dabbing the newborn baby lightly before wrapping him in linen so he could be held better, while Marcus helped his wife back onto the bed, covering her lightly and giving her a long kiss, ,,I am so very proud my darling," he whispered placing a kiss on her head, before taking his son in his arms, those light, dark hairs on the delicate head belonging to him but the pretty eyes were hers.

His eyes filled with tears of pride and reassurance as he stroked his son and gave her the little bundle she clutched, ,,A piece of love from both of us," she uttered, crying with happiness as she looked into her son's curious face and he chuckled at her as the two parents spent the next few hours together on the bed with pure happiness as the little baby went from laughing with gurgling laughter, to crying and finally falling asleep exhausted in the equally exhausted arms of his parents.

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Emperor Geta

The younger but stronger emperor of Rome, the warrior and leader who did not subordinate himself and enjoyed the Coloseum. A young man whose golden lure was not the only thing that seemed to be gold, he bought and made whatever he wanted, be it new armor, a sword, an army or even slaves that he could kill or do anything else with.

But in his life, his only blood besides his older brother Caracalla, there was only one marriage predestined by his father that he should marry her.

Pretty, coming from wealth and power but not a woman he had chosen, it was like fate, his father had decided like a god on the life of his son but it had been like that for some time now and as much as the couple was celebrated in public, the false smiles and hand-holding of the inner circle was seen through, they were both torn.

As much as they tried to understand each other and she appreciated his gift of attention to Rome, as much as he thought she was pretty and appreciated her patience as a true virtue, they never seemed to be in the same mood. There never seemed to have been a thread of fate.

,,Can love ever arise from a loveless duty?" she had once asked him when he wanted to retire in the evenings, avoiding her to occupy himself with his important things that his older brother wasn't interested in and always finding an excuse to avoid her.

She saw the guilt disappear from his eyes in the blink of an eye, saw him straighten the rings on his fingers before he replied with a ,,Love comes from the heart… a duty from the words of others" before he left her room and avoided her for another night, a night that followed one after the other until one day they attended his brother's wedding, Caracalla also married a highborn woman and gave the Roman Empire its first heir, as it should be - it was all just a matter of time.

A fact that Geta also knew, even if with a smile his bright eyes wished nothing but death for his sister-in-law, a plague that she and his brother would have to endure,

,,I want to see you in my chamber after the feast and that is not a question" he murmured to his wife who looked at him with an uneasy look, she had seen the looks, knew what was going on in her husband and yet in a horrible fate she felt the duty in her heart she had to bear him an heir.

The festivities dragged on for a long time, but with wine that overwhelmed her senses she distracted herself from what was going to happen, what he was going to do just because his place in the order of precedence would be changed, she followed his words, made a simple excuse and retired to her husband's room.

She had also heard the wine on his lips as that night began with a kiss, senses dazed by wine and yet there was still a kind of tenderness in his touch despite his hatred, she still held him close to her heart, something she clung to as hope.

A hope and love a lust she would not have expected from him overcame the nights of nights she saw for the first time his jealousy coupled with love,.

,,I know you are trying my love" he told her again and again his hand placed on her tree day after day she seemed to realize if she was pregnant until the day one of the midwives and his healer confirmed she was pregnant and a few tests brought the uncertainty to an end.

She still couldn't believe it was true, she felt his arms around her body and words of praise but double-edged words coming at her as Geta looked at her with a look that told her he had never felt more love for her than now, ,,My Empress pregnant with my heir" he murmured and immediately let the news spread everywhere rubbing it straight into the face of his brother and especially his sister-in-law who was not yet pregnant.

The time after that was filled with happiness and yet paranoia, he was only more attached to her, paying attention to everything and having the room for the child decorated with her taste, choosing the furniture and the colors, ,,The room of the future emperor," he announced to her as she leaned on him and saw the room with pictures of heroic deeds and old legends showing victories.

,,A truly impressive room," she admitted and felt her hands relax on her now round belly as time passed, the moons and suns came quickly and her pregnancy increased, the closer she got to the birth the more excited Geta seemed to become, insisting on being present the whole time…an insistence she kept, only a few moons later her contractions came and the palace was filled with screams and weeping.

Geta shouted at the midwives and healers to kill them all or he would kill them personally while he supported his wife with words and did not flinch when her bloodied hand reached for him, ,,You are doing very well I am with you dear, with our son you will make it" he told her again and again kissing her forehead and giving her hopeful kisses until he shouted more death threats until the news came that it was almost done.

The last screams were full of pain and she clung to him even more, the pain increasing with the thought that had plagued her for months and her heart stopped when she heard the voice of the midwife saying ,,My emperor it's a…girl" and the room slowly fell silent, only the shrill cry of the baby could be heard, a baby without the right sex, a girl no heir.

Her heavy breathing and the tears rolling down her cheeks as he pulled away from her with a jerk, she was supported by her midwives who helped her onto the bed and took care of her as best they could while she watched Geta take her daughter in his arms and turn his back on her, not seeing how he looked with this "disappointing" birth.

,,Everyone out now!" he shouted making the little baby cry again and yet everyone complied, ,,Geta I'm-I'm sorry" she started trying to get to him when she heard a sniffle and paused, at first she thought it was the baby but it giggled and a clearing of the throat was heard before he turned to her.

Her worry vanished when she saw his expression it was pride, it was appreciation it was happiness, ,,The future of the empire an empress from the love of her parents…she will become a goddess" he murmured and came to his wife in bed put the baby in her arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the head while he held his wife's hand and gently stroked it.

He was not disappointed he had gotten something so much better, he had gotten love and a wife who was everything to him a family of his own the only imperial family of ancient Rome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Caracalla

The elder son, the first emperor to rule with his younger but much more suitable brother, a pair of brothers who ruled together and brought Rome to the top of the world with its army and its strength, but above all a young man with a woman at his side.

A woman, the Empress of Rome, beautiful, handsome and caring, popular with the people and not underestimated in politics because of her own country of origin and family…but a young woman without children.

A woman without children from an age when she would not be empress she would take other jobs nor have a choice but an empress was not a politician, a warrior or even a farmer an empress was and should always be a mother first so it has always been but not with her.

The wedding was moons ago and even if it was a little difficult at first their hearts were close she loved her playful husband who was always loving to her and had a penchant for entertainment of any kind.

As long as Carcalla wasn't bored, he knew that his brother was concerned with everything else, including politics, for which he had little taste when it wasn't a matter of attack or execution, she could only entertain him by acting, playing or playing in the arena, and as much as they both enjoyed it, she became more unhappy.

,,Your smile is fading, don't you like it? I can hire a new actor or buy new slaves right away," the blonde immediately offered and waved the troupe out so he could talk to his wife who had been laughing all evening, her hand detached from her belly and handed him the parchment he had skimmed over in the morning.

A parchment with the emperor's seal, a message from his brother that Geta had taken a wife of his own on a state visit, ,,The betrothal and wedding, what's with that, starlet?" he asked, tossing the paper carelessly aside before rising and going to the table of fruit and helping himself to the grapes.

He didn't understand the seriousness, the worry or even what it meant for the future, not that they hadn't slept together often, the wedding night had been consummated and they had often shared the bed but it had never led to anything, she rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand and seeking his gaze.

,,Cara. ..you're still the older one, a duty is on me and I don't know if I can ever give you…an heir" she said the lump in her throat almost cutting off her voice hoping he would understand.

She saw the humor fade from his face and he considered before he gave an almost stunned expression and grabbed both her hands hastily, squeezing them and locking them in a hasty kiss over and over until she broke away to catch her breath, ,,Please I-it may well be me…all this he may be the politician but I am the elder, the first and you do your duty every day you are with me.

,,I leave no room for doubt, do you understand?" he demanded and she found his hopefulness, confidence and euphoria truly inspiring that a small smile crept onto her lips before he took her in his arms the imperial couple found themselves together again that night, taking help from potions, tinctures and many other forbidden practices that they hardly left the bedchamber together for the next few days.

It was clear to everyone what was happening behind the closed doors but after trying and trying this hope was to pay off with her first discomfort and the first change, ,,Congratulations my Emperor you are finally pregnant" the healer announced as he listened to the results of the test and her report, her tears wetting the tunic of her husband who hugged her and twirled around and was all the more pleased.

The news also pleased the people and even when she saw the looks on Geta's face and his wife she knew she had done her duty she would give Rome an heir, she had not disappointed Caracalla, ,,You can never let me down everything will go well the gods are with us" he told her reading she put up stowage in the child's room and her own for the next moons so that she was protected and the child inside her.

The protection seemed to help Geta until a point, and everything seemed to go well until the day of the birth, when blood and tears covered the floor, ,,What's wrong with my wife?" Caracalla who was holding her hand on the bed but the dagger at his side seemed to slaughter anyone who did anything wrong.

He kissed her hands and fingers, tried to cool her forehead with cool cloths and tell her again that she was doing well, ,,It seems that the Empress is pregnant with twins," said one of the midwives who had already brought out the size of the belly and the prolonged birth.

It was news she needed to cry out and Caracalla was filled with joy which he only showed when she continued to scream and push with the help of Caracalla who got into a kneeling position and the moments of pain merged until the first child was pushed out, ,,A boy!" the midwife shouted and took care of the little creature while the younger one continued to hold on to her husband.

The blonde gave her a proud kiss on the head, ,,Do you hear that? Our son love you can do it I am here" he murmured over and over until another cry from her side and a second bright cry told them that it was done that night a boy and his sister were born, Caracalla proudly and happily held the little babies and immediately spoke to them while praising them over and over.

The little family was not only complete but was now a little conversation of their own for each other, they had brought themselves together through love and received two sweet little gifts because they believed that their love was stronger than anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@morallyinept

@parvanovel -> I konw pregnancy is one thing but it's fluff so have fun :)

@sweetpascal

[lovebugism]

✶   — LOVEBUGISM'S WIP LIST ! —   ✶

in which i give you all a glimpse into my never-ending wips in a desperate attempt to keep up with my drafts (▰˘◡˘▰) i've tried to put these in order of my plans to release them, but knowing me, that's always subject to change hahah (updated 07/17)

📼 —   ; ONCE BITTEN, TWICY SHY (vampire!eddie munson)

summary: by the summer of 1986, eddie munson has died and come to life again. more harrowing than that: he can't seem to stop running into the pretty lifeguard from hawkins community pool. he finds out very quickly that gloom and sunshine do not mix. (fluff, smut)

🍽️ —   ; MIRACLE ALIGNER (richie jerimovich)

summary: as far as you're concerned, the only thing you and richie have in common is mikey berzatto. the extent of your quote-unquote relationship begins and ends there. others are starting to think you hate each other so much you just might be in love. (angst, hurt/comfort)

🕊️ —   ; HOLY GRAIL (emperor geta & marcus acacius)

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. (angst, smut)

📚 —   ; SINCERELY YOURS (eddie munson)

summary: five high schoolers with nothing in common are forced to spend an entire saturday in detention together. eddie munson, the school rebel, sets his sights on the pretty little brainiac who refuses to pay him any mind. he slowly teaches her that there's nothing wrong with being a little bad. (a breakfast club re-write) (fluff, hurt/comfort)

🦇 —   ; AS THE WORLD FALLS DOWN (eddie munson series)

summary: the freak with a smushed pack of cigarettes meets the princess with a broken heart in a chance of a lifetime encounter they have no idea will lead to an entire lifetime of chance. (an st4 re-write) (fluff, angst, smut)

👨‍🏫 —   ; WHEN I KISSED THE TEACHER (professor!steve harrington)

summary: you're a burnt-out student trying to survive graduate school. steve's a washed-up writer looking for inspiration for his next book. you end up helping each other in ways neither of you expected when the school year began. (fluff, angst, smut)

[foundtherightwords]

(most of my fics are CC x OFC unless otherwise stated)

Tom Grant (Make Up)

Winter Light (AO3): angst, slow burn, sickfic, post-canon, non-explicit smut | 5 chapters + optional epilogue, 14.8k

Arthur Havisham (Dickensian)

The Road Forgotten (AO3): angst, slow burn, fix-it, post-canon, revenge, non-explicit smut | 14 chapters, 42.7k

Irresistibly Contagious (AO3): sequel to "The Road Forgotten", Christmas fic, fluff, found family | One-shot, 7k

Billy Knight (Lethal White/Strike)

The Quiet Chaos (AO3): angst, slow burn, developing relationship, post-canon, non-explicit smut | 10 chapters, 36.2K

The Simple Thought of You (AO3): sequel to "The Quiet Chaos", angst, childfree, proposal, non-explicit smut | 3 chapters, 9.2k

Ralph (Timewasters)

All Our Yesterdays (AO3): friends-to-lovers, slow burn, a bit of angst, time travel, post-canon, non-explicit smut | 14 chapters, 53.8k

Come, You Spirits (AO3): sort-of-sequel to "All Our Yesterdays", fluff, funny, spooky, established relationship | One-shot, 4.6k

Time Out in the Upside Down (AO3): "Stranger Things" x "Timewasters" crossover, funny | One-shot, 1.8k

Leonard Bast (Howards End)

Through the World's Far Ends (AO3): Leonard x Helen fix-it, World War I, angst, hurt/comfort | One-shot, 7.2k

Prince Paul (Catherine the Great)

The Firebird (AO3): fairytale AU, magic, adventure, slow burn, non-explicit smut | 16 chapters, 66.7k

Michael (Hoard)

Love, If You're Near (AO3): angst, hurt/comfort | One-shot, 6.8k

Derwin Grunauer (Overlord)

As the Sun Will Rise (AO3): post-WWII, Beauty and the Beast retelling | 21 chapters, ~82k

Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2)

Fallen Empires (WIP): canon divergent, alternate history, slow burn | 20 chapters, ~70k

Hellcheer Masterlist

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part 6

Summary: A new dynamic between and the reader who belongs to him. Things take place the dark of the night.

Notes/Warning: 18+, pinv consensual intercourse (be safe!), virginity lost, blood & a dagger is mentioned, ownership, womanhood is mentioned, worship and belief of old gods, mentions of someone that pays Geta in the middle of the night (no spoiler, please read!)

Strigil: to clean off the oils or soaps off a body. Sperlonga: where Julius Ceaser first emperor of Rome was born, Borghi più belli d'Italia: means the most beautiful village in Italy.

❤️s, reblogs, comments, feedback are all welcome! Thank you for reading. 💐

You felt as his eyes drifted over you.

"I am very proud of you today."

Licking his bottom lip, he bit it. He looked as of

he was thinking of what else needed to be said.

"You did not make me regret my decision."

"I am glad."

A smile curled his lips.

"Come here."

Your heart beat harder as drew closer.

"I wish to relax for the rest of the night."

He pointed to a bottle of oil.

"Rub that into my back. While you do so, using

your words like an artist, tell me where your

people come from."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is." He took a seat on a stone bench near you.”

"Rub that into my back. While you do so, using your words like an artist, tell me where your people come from."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is." He took a seat on a stone bench near you. Nearing the bottle you saw a very elegant strigil. When you picked it up, it scrapped against the marble table

"It's very sharp.'

"It is. So be careful, I do not wish to shed my blood tonight."

You nodded.

"If we are to shed any blood, it will be your womanhood."

"My womanhood." You echoed.

You had heard of it being possible but hearing it again made your stomach churn.

He turned more towards you from where he sat and looked at you. His hair cascaded over his brow like a sunset.

"Yes, it is the sacrifice that is made to the great gods of the heavens and to your emperor?”

"Yes, Geta. I understand:

"You better. I do not feel you are a hysterical girl.”

“I’ve never been known to be one.”

“Good.”

He sat once again with his back to it.

You placed the strigil down. You rubbed your hands together, warming them. You mother had always taught you it is better to touch with warmth then coolness.

Pulling the stopper you brought the bottle of the fine oil to your nose. Your eyes, grew.

“Sire?”

He didn’t move. “What did I say about that?”

“Geta,” You swallowed. “I am sorry.”

“It’s fine. It shows how well you have been trained.”

Even though you could not see it; you were convinced one of his cooler smiles curled his lips at that remark.

“Yes.”

“What is it? Why the pause?”

“The oil. It is the same used on me earlier.”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“But, but…” You voice trailed off as the words failed to be expressed.

“You belong to me. I will share the best with you when I choose it to be.”

“Oh?” A flutter went through you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, don’t make me wait any further.”

“Yes, yes of course.”

You placed the bottle down, then once again rubbed your hands. A good spirit filled you at the thought. You would keep in a good temperament whenever you could.

Picking up the bottle, you poured some of the oil on your hands first, instead of just dribbling some on his back first. If had always felt more comforting when done this. You hoped he would feel the same way.

In the brief moment before your hands felt his shoulders, you were certain they tingled. Perhaps it was the goddess Venus blessing you tonight. You murmured a soft prayer to her and then laid your hands upon him.

Your heart felt like it would erupt from you. It was beating very hard.

Your hands drifted, rubbed and gently squeezed where it felt needed. His posture stopped being rigid after some time. But he didn’t utter a word, you took it as a sign he was enjoying himself.

Pausing for a breath, you poured some more oil onto your palm.

“Oh, yes. You have grown to silent.”

He looked at you over his shoulder. His profile sharper than the coins that attempted to bear his likeness

“You are to still tell me of where your family comes from.”

“Yes.”

You placed the bottle down once again.

You began to move your hands down lower on his strong back. A strong warmth burned him. It was the strength of the gods, you were certain of it.

“My family lived on the brink of forever. Where the water laps against golden sands are a brilliant and turquoise.”

“Does it go by the name Sperlonga?”

“Yes, Geta I was told that is its name.”

“You come from a mighty land. The great Tiberius came from that ground.”

“Our first Emperor, Geta?” You gad heard whispering among the elders.

“Yes, yes he was.” He paused. “Now, I know quite more about you.”

“Geta, I am confused.”

A chuckle came from him and he turned away but then moved more so he could face you.

“Borghi più belli d'Italia.”

He said simply, his tongue becoming elegant. He spoke of the sentiment you heard frequently of your village.

“And you, are also quite lovely. Your roots are from there. Though I would dare say being in Rome and working so closely to your emperor, only helped with your beauty. The goddesses and gods are kind to you.”

You trembled, you didn’t know what to say. You bowed your head.

“Thank you Geta.”

He nodded, before reaching for and grabbing the strigil.

“Time for you to finish.”

“Yes.” Though you placed it down.

You went to the plant with its large leaves and knowing which ones were dying, their edges browning, you pinched them off at the stem and brought them over and placed them under foot.

“For an easier clean.”

He nodded.

You took a breath, steadied your hand and soon scrapped away the layer of oil. His skin had a new radiance. His features, the strength underneath shone through. Once done you, wiped the strigil and placed it on the table and put the stopper back into the bottle.

He rolled his shoulder. He made a soft, pleasant sound and soon stood. Once again he was close and you were reminded of how he could tower over you. A smile was on his lips.

He brought your chin up. “You didn’t even prick the skin.”

“You warned me, so I kept my breath and was careful yet thorough.”

“Good for that.” His thumb caressed your jaw. “Remove your garments and go and lay in the bed.” His eyes narrowed. “On your back.”

You nodded. And he let you go.

Your heart had beat hard before, now more. Besides the bed is where you loosened the knots and undid the clasp that bore his profile. Not know where to go exactly, you went to its center.

He came over, he did the knot of his belt. Soon like falling leaves, his braccae fell to the ground, not far from where your garments laid.

He crawled over to you. Your stomach fluttered. Truly, the gods had been kind to him. He was trim and sharp like the staues artists have erected in his honor.

He came to rest beside you. “I will touch you now.”

“Yes Geta.”

Soft sounds came from you as his finger tips grazed from your cheek, to your throat to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts.

“Oh, it feels good. I am sure one day they would be good for a babe to suckle at.”

“I hope so.” Your voice shook. His touch was light, barely felt it. But made you very pleased. Soft sounds came from you.

A smile curled his lips.

His hand drifted over to where your heart was. You don’t know why but you shifted a breath.

His dark eyes found yours.

“My heart, is thudding hard.” It was all you could say, you were terribly breathless. Could barely hold onto one.

“That is how it is. You have not departed yet, from this world for the underworld blossom.”

“Oh?”

He nodded.

Moving back, his hand then splayed on your chest. He smiled. “See I felt it move faster. It is responding to me.”

“I believe so.”

His hand then traveled along the curve and softness of tour stomach.

“Your body pleasing me greatly.”

You nodded. “I am glad.”

You gasped, your eyes grew when you found his hand cupping you.

“This feels good.” He gave you a squeeze. “Soft, warm. Ready, to welcome me?”

“Yes.”

“Open your legs for me, bid me entrance.”

He climbed over you, the sight made tingles come from the very center. The sensations, were welcome but they did spread through you. In your breathless state, you glanced away from his magnificence.

“Am I so ill to the eye. Should I have warmed you with wine like my brother does with the dancers, he randomly beds?”

His words were sharp, they stung.

You quickly looked back. “No, Geta. It is just you are truly like a god before. And I can barely catch my breath. I do know what you shall want me to do.”

An edge remain but his words were softer.

“Let your body, let your heart lead. They will know what to do.”

“As you wish.”

Soon, with his free hand you felt as he opened you further so he could properly settle between your legs. The tingles, you had felt earlier caused a needy ache in you. Perhaps, it was that part of you that knew what to do while being guided by the fates.

You felt as he brushed against you, a soft sound escaped your lips, a mixture of pleasure and surprise. It had felt good. You glanced down. His arousal was quite big, it matched the rest of his beauty.

“Your body as responded to me. Just like the ground is thirsty for the water from the rains, your body is ready.”

“Yes. But am I not too small. I do not want to cause any displeasure in you.”

You were taken aback. You had not expected to be more ready then you were. Perhaps it was from his gentle words and touch. You tried to understand how you were feeling empty, feeling an unexplainable need for him. But you wanted this and would not stop him.

“A sword sheaths itself, that sheath must must be barely big enough to hold the sword it is safe. You are perfect, for me. Though, I should remind you there will be pain. It is the sacrifice that must be made. From this night forth, you will forever be mine along with your woman hood.”

You nodded. You felt there was no great sacrifice then to one’s emperor who had already been far kinder then you could have ever expected.

At first, there was quite a bit of pressure and it was not long before the slice of pain ripped through you. You gasped and called out, arching against him. You clawed at the soft fabrics under the two of you.

He still and waited till your body called and it did, but sweat broke out as if you were out in the sun. It must be from warmth that came from him. The pain soon ebbed.

“Shall I continue?” That was when you realized he had truly stilled but was still deep within you.

“Please.” Something you were unfamiliar began to build within you and you wanted more of it.

Soon, Geta easily began moving easily in and out of you. His breathing shortened and sounds, came from him you had never heard before.

There were sounds you had heard them in the neighboring sleeping quarters where you lived before he brought you to the domus.

Soon, his fingertips grazed between the two of you. A sharp pleasure ripped through you.

“Your bud is as delicate as the flowers you love.” His voice was raspy. You were lost in your sensation to barely realize what he said. All you knew was he spoke.

It cleared your thoughts all you could do was make your own incoherent sounds you grasped onto him. You felt like you could shatter yet you entire body tightened.

“Oh Geta.” You whimpered under him. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t, my blossom.” His voice was strained.

A moan was ripped from you as his fingers grazed once again between the two of you.

You bucked and felt as everything with your erupted, it felt absolutely amazing. Once you could see beyond the bursts of stars in your eyes you were melting under Geta.

He arched against you a final time and soon, uttered his own very deep moan. Be he came to rest his forehead against your shoulder. His breath was hot he panted before he moved and was laying on his back beside you.

You honestly do not know what came over you, perhaps it was the goddess Venus herself that truly liked the union of you and Geta. But in glow of the pleasure that had filled you; turning you looked at Geta.

His lashed laid softly on his cheeks as he breathing began to steady.

“Will be do this again?”

He smiled, though his eyes didn’t open. “Yes. Though that was enough for one night. Like wine, I do not want to grow terribly addicted to you. Not good for an emperor or you.”

“Oh.” His words fell over you like a shadow. You could tell how it made you feel but the glow began to shrink in its size.

His finally opened and he looked at you. “Also, so that words don’t fly faster then then already do at the senate or the forum, you must go back to your chambers but I will see you for our morning meal.”

“Yes.”

You knew enough to get up then and easily wrapped the elegant fabrics around you. He rolled away as you glanced over. It made a pang go through you.

*******

Once in your room, you paused after closing the door. You felt suddenly very hollow, as if his ownership finally was realized. You hugged yourself tightly.

After sometime, not knowing truly how long you stood and were going to prepare for sleep which is beckoning. When you realized, the golden clasp was not in your possession. His words echoed in your mind, they had given you a chill. Yet, you didn’t want yourself to be the cause of those loose words. So carefully you crept once more past his sleeping guards, something you would tell him about over perhaps some more full, very crisp and pleasant grapes.

You opened the heavy door and in the few candles that remained flickering in his chambers, you made your way to the alcove where his bed was.

A scream came from you that you had never known to be in your possession. It came from somewhere deep inside of you. There beside his bed was a man holding a very large dagger, he looked like he was prepared to strike.

Geta awoke, the man brought down the dagger. Moving just so it only managed to slice at his upper arm instead of his heart; where he had appeared to be aiming for. The sight of crimson was stark to the rest of the night. Everything became fuzzy, your knees began to buckle before all became black.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @missonlypost @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @heartsforjosephquinn

[trulyumai]

Be My Distraction

pairing: emperor geta / wife! reader

Synopsis: Bloodshed wasn't in your interest. good thing you had your emperor there to comfort ill feelings.

Warnings: blood, violence, fighting.

Enjoy!

You’ve been married for eight months and twenty three days. It was rough in the beginning— to be belittled so easily and forgotten within every moment the two of you spent together. 

But over time, the jokes, the pradling eased. He didn't grab you as much, or as roughly as he once did. The scratches, the bruises faded with time, no more did they grace your cheeks, your arms. 

You learned early on that the man craved violence— sought it out in the coliseums every so often. Blood didn't seem to bother the emperor, in fact, the more that the maroon color graced his presence, the better. 

You, however, could do without. 

It was so hot- so stuffy that day. Humidity clung to your skin like an unwanted sickness. Sweat dabbed at your brow as you tirelessly fanned at your face, sitting just beside Geta himself. The crowd was ever so loud, jovially crying out, impatient for the show to begin. 

The emperor sat, knees spread with an arm bent on the rest attached to the chair. 

“This will be a good one,” Beside him, his brother; Caracalla hummed in agreement, giggling at the aggressive pushes and shoves the citizens gave to one another. 

You couldn't imagine how hot it must be down there, so close to the pit. 

Even up in the stands, you thought you might melt. 

“Wife, did you hear me?” 

Flinching you looked back at Geta, meeting his intense gaze upon your form. 

“W-What?” 

“I said, are you ready to be entertained?” 

The movement in your hand stopped, it was useless trying to fight such a heat. Not wasting a breath you answered. 

“Of course, husband.” 

Smiling, the man stood and raised his arms to the citizens. Screams erupted, they cried out in response to the man of such power, of such terror. 

With his arms back at his sides; the signal was given. 

The fight could commence. 

Roughly turning back to the box, Geta sat upon the edge of the throne, waiting to see the first death of the match. 

Not wanting to disappoint him, you stood straight, facing the clashing of swords, the crying of men. A particular soldier had ill timing with his slash, missing his foe entirely. It left him open for a second, but that was all the time that was needed. With a quick slash, the man's entrails dangled from his stomach, painting the ground a bright red. 

It was unbearable to see such a display of violence, to see these men's lives end right before your eyes. 

Your palm met with the skin of your lips, afraid of the rising bile you covered your mouth tightly, eyes gazing over with wet desperation. 

A distraction— you needed one and quick. How embarrassing would it be for the wife of the emperor to throw up her morning meal? 

In front of her own citizens? 

Nothing was working, the sounds, the clashing was too loud. The blood littered the field, running freely over the crevices with its own dirtied purpose. 

Your breathing was beginning to be too fast, too quick to catch up with. 

Think, think, think- 

“Wife?” 

Oh gods. Not now. You couldn't take the poking, the showing of bodies that lay limp and torn. 

Geta noticed the desperation in your eyes, the way you squeezed your mouth shut like a tragedy just struck before the coliseum.

“Wife. Look.” 

“Geta please-” 

A hand reached out, a mirage of colors graced your vision. 

His hand? 

His.. rings? 

“Oh…” you sighed, reaching out with both hands to grip onto the bigger one in front of you. 

“New rings?” you smiled. The bile no longer burned the back of your throat, with ease it bubbled down and the taste of your previous meal left instantly. 

“Indeed. See this one?” His pinky moved lightly, it moved up and down meticulously.

You nodded and the jewelry around your neck sounded out. The man couldn’t help but look upon it, with a smile of his own. 

The golden chain you wore, decorated in the finest stones lay about your image, resting just above your collarbones. He remembered gifting it to you not long ago, just upon the third full moon of this month's harvest. 

Your touch brought him back to the present. To your sweating form.

“This one brings good fortune.”

“Good fortune?” 

“Mmh,” he agreed, once more setting his eyes on the show in front of him. 

Couldn’t show everyone how soft he could be with his betrothed. His reign would lose its footing; a weakness she brought, they would say to him.

“What would you need that for, dear husband, when you have so much already?”

He could see you from the corner of his eye. Saw the way you stroked at his fingers with a light- loving touch. 

Your hands were much softer than his, he had to resist letting out a pleased sigh at such a discovery. 

“There can always be more.” He spoke low, distracted by the onslaught of men that paraded around the ground floor. 

“...I suppose.” The nausea was replaced with a wave of comfort. His heavy hand sat atop your lap, with your smaller fingers dancing across the new set of rings upon the man's digits. 

“Husband?”

Geta hummed. With no response, it meant he was starting to get impatient, itchy with anger. 

“Can I hold your hand here, for a while?” 

The emperor didn't say anything for a concerning amount of time. The comfortability was wearing off with every scream and groan that left the pit. Swords clashed on and on. 

Not wanting to upset your husband further, you tried to back up, to take the words out of the air. 

“Im sorry, forgive me-” 

“I suppose.”

Geta’s eyes never strained from the fighting and yours never left his image. But even from the side, you could see a softness that wasn't there before. The way his hand relaxed against yours. Ever so rough upon your oiled and cared for palms. 

That was all that needed to be said. 

You watched on, caressing Geta’s hands every so often in unspoken affection. 

A/N: we love a man that can calm down his wife with barely any effort. something about big scary men being soft with their wife has me in a chokehold and im sorry

[jksprincess10]

Marcus Acacius masterlist

✰ : contains smut

☾ : contains dark themes

☁: contains fluff

ϟ : contains angst

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Oneshots and requests

An angel ✰☁ : General Acacius requests your company for his bath.

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife (Marcus x reader x Emperor Geta) ☾☁ϟ: Emperor Geta surprises you, his paramour, with General Acacius, and he's not very happy about it.

[swordgrace]

— 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 & 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒. 𐬾

please keep in mind that this blog is strictly 18+ — minors, please do not follow or interact with my content. any hateful subjects, inclusion of drama, or harmful requests will result in being blocked and/or a deleted request.

⚔️ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 / 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.

⚔️ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬.

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 . . .

smut, smut and fluff, gore & violence, darker subject matters, porn with plot, porn without plot, female reader, afab reader, dubious consent, somnophilia, size differences, choking, breeding kink, pet names, experienced reader, inexperienced reader, dom/sub dynamics, predator/prey, capture/captive, bondage, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, monsterfucking, legal age gaps, bloodplay, knifeplay, threesomes, poly!relationships, voyeurism, vanilla smut, bloodplay, waxplay, inappropriate use of magic, rough sex, vanilla, loss of virginity, different positions, dirty talk, semi-public / public sex, outdoor sex, anal sex, risk of getting caught, etc . . .

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 . . .

non-con/r*pe, necrophilia, only fluff, only slice-of-life, male reader, others original characters, incest, age play, little play, watersports, scat, gore, harem, sexual abuse, su*cide, self-harm, domestic abuse, racism, homophobia, any harmful kinks/fetishes.

— 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐒.

❛ ━━━━━━━━ ❁ ━━━━━━━━━ ❜

𝟎𝟎𝟎. 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒.

sandor clegane / the hound

jon snow / aegon VI targaryen

robb stark

oberyn martell

gendry rivers / baratheon

podrick payne

theon greyjoy

viserys targaryen

brienne of tarth

jorah mormont

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

rhaenyra targaryen

helaena targaryen

otto hightower

daemon targaryen

aemond targaryen

aegon ii targaryen

harwin strong

criston cole

gwayne hightower

cregan stark

hugh hammer

addam of hull

𝟎𝟎𝟐. 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈.

astarion ancunin

halsin silverbough

gale dekarios

karlach

lae’zel

minthara baenre

wyll ravengard

jaheira

enver gortash

raphael

rolan

zevlor

𝟎𝟎𝟑. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓.

kael’thas sunstrider

illidan stormrage

broll bearmantle

anduin wrynn

rexxar

sylvanas windrunner

maiev shadowsong

jarod shadowsong

kalecgos

baine bloodhoof

khadgar

𝟎𝟎𝟒. 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑.

legolas greenleaf

thranduil

aragorn

haldir of lórien

faramir

éomer éadig

arondir (rings of power)

elrond peredhel (rings of power)

ereinion gil-galad (rings of power)

elendil (rings of power)

adar (rings of power)

sauron / halbrand (rings of power)

𝟎𝟎𝟓. 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒.

geralt of rivia — (the witcher)

prince caspian — (chronicles of narnia)

emperor geta — (gladiator II)

emperor caracalla — (gladiator II)

marcus acacius — (gladiator II)

lucius verus aurelius — (gladiator II)

paul atreides — (dune films)

duke leto atreides — (dune films)

gurney halleck — (dune films)

feyd-rautha harkonnen — (dune films)

[punk-in-docs]

- PUNKINDOCS - JQ MASTERLIST-

🕷Super Freak Series🕷

🕸 Your Web, I’m Caught (the 1st) 🕸

Summary: The one where you’re miserable and drinking on your own at a party. And you run into maybe the last person you’d have expected on the outskirts. 7.6k words.

🕸 Is It My Body (the 2nd) 🕸

Summary: The one where Eddie gives you a ride home after your friend ditched you at a terrible party. 6.9k words.

🕸 Power of Suggestion (the 3rd) 🕸

Summary: You see Eddie at school after he gave you a lift home the other night. There’s definitely something you need to resolve. It’s mind over matter and there’s something you’re both after. 5.3k words.

🕸 Head Over Heels (the 4th) 🕸

Summary: Eddie visits you at the record store where you work. You end up making out in the storage room. 7.6k words.

🕸 Was it Love or Nicotine? (The 5th) 🕸

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to see you at school. He thinks you’re avoiding him til he finds out you’re sick. And he climbs in your window one night to bring you a can of soup. 12k words.

🕸Wolf Men & Secret Heists (the 6th)🕸

Summary: You and Eddie enjoy a rendezvous in a storage closet at school. Some inevitably dirty stuff happens. 9.2k words (smut)

🕸 Don’t need telling twice (the 7th)🕸

Summary: You go over to Eddie’s for a Movie Night date. And apparently, you’re both terrible at keeping quiet about what you want. 10.4k words. (No smut just sheer fluff)

🕸️ Vanilla Tobacco (the 8th) 🕸️

Summary: Eddie collects you for your ice cream/arcade date, he also gets to meet your mom. 10.9k words

🕸️Star Studded Gazes & Metal Men (the 9th) 🕸️

Summary: Your date goes very well- maybe a little to well under the stars at skull rock. 10.5k words (smut!)

🕸️ Girlfriend is Better (The 10th) 🕸️

Summary: You and Eddie face an unseen obstacle, which you manage to overcome with some hard cold vengeance. and then you hit him with an interesting offer... 10.k words (angst/tw violcence past assault)

🕸️ Can’t leave you in the wrong hands, baby (The 11th) 🕸️ OUT NOW!!!!

Summary: You and Eddie take the definitive step towards boyfriend and girlfriend. An empty house and a evening alone yields to a perfect evening of a first time, and much much more (11.2k words, so much SMUTTT)

-Drabbles/One Shots-

🕷️When Eddie Met Pencils 🕷️ the drabble

🕷Green is the Colour 🕷 - Eddie x Pencils Drabble - 6.6k words

Summary: Eddie being jealous that everyone in Hawkins is apparently getting a slice of Pencils after they start dating. (Jealous!Eddie themes) ends with fluff.

🚬 Messy Eddie Headcanons🚬

🎼🎙 Eddie working in the record store with Sal Headcanons = a.k.a sheer Chaos 🎙🎼

🔥NSFW Eddie Headcanons🔥

🎃 Trick? Or Treat? 🎃

Summary: Eddie’s friends are having trouble believing you’re really dating. They require a little proof- 3k. Funky little drabble really.

🍁 Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you 🍁

Summary: you celebrate your two year anniversary with Eddie at the place where it all began- At the Hawkins Fall carnival.

🍂 Halloween Headcanon’s for Eddie 🍂

Summary: Pretty much what it says on the tin. Halloween Headcanons with Eddie.

❤️ My Funny Valentine ❤️

Summary: A requested ask/drabble- Valentines Day- and suddenly you have a not so secret admirer.

❤️‍🔥 Drawing Mr. Munson ❤️‍🔥

Short drabble: what would drawing Eddie be like? In a nutshell, a challenge.

🩸VAMPIRE!EDDIE🩸One shot; 10k words- also on AO3 if you fancy-

🩸Love like Blood🩸

Summary; !! Dark fic !! Vamp!Eddie x Reader. 10k words. He fully believes hell has opened its snake jaw and devoured him whole- cause this is, just, unbelievable.

Okay, maybe he hasn’t been swallowed into hell.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s that hell has chewed him up, and spat him back out.

He tried to stand and is amazed when he can. Bearing his own weight again. Stood tall. Slowly creaking and cracking to life.

Life? Or Death?

Other Characters

Detective (Murderer) Quinn

- Tainted Love, Part I

Summary: Inspired entirely by this post which I glimpsed via @ravensfromvalhalla from @ceriseheaven. As in the gif, what if Detective Quinn was actually a crazy psycho killer. Set in the 1980’s LA. Det Quinn x Reader.

‼️You don’t know I’m no good ‼️ Part II

Summary: Danger is far closer than you realise ‼️ TW: dark vibes, murder, death, violence, stalking ‼️ 3.6k words.

‼️Hungry like the wolf‼️ Part III

Summary: Quinn gets up close and personal. But he has an ulterior motive of course. ‼️TW dark vibes, knife violence and threatening ‼️ 4.1k words.

‼️ Like a fist. Like a Knife ‼️ Part IIII

Summary: Birdie is on the case - Quinn is onto her. The plot thickens- Slutty chaos ensues.

‼️ Hit me like a bad trip‼️ Part V

Summary: Some questions lead Birdie to the wrong side of town, good thing she’s got someone watching her back. Whether she wants them or not- turns out to be a good thing. Knights in shiny red Porsches. 7.2k words.

‼️ Girl in trouble (is a temporary thing) ‼️ Part VI

Summary: Birdie patches a bloodied Quinn up at her place. There’s nakedness, too much Bourbon, and a whole lot of smut involved. 9.9k words.

‼️ Have a horny little XXXmas - Det Quinn x Birdie festive one shot ‼️

‼️ NSFW ALPHABET ‼️ - For Detective Quinn - so much smut and filth

‼️ Hold the Bourbon‼️ Detective Quinn x Reader, Drabble.

Summary: Drabble from an ask, Detective Quinn laughing during sex - with an edge. ‼️TW ‼️Pure filth. Much smut.

‼️ Det Quinn Ask Drabble ‼️

Drabble/ask about Detective Quinn making you squirt

‼️Det Quinn Ask Drabble‼️ (so filthy)

Detective Quinn and how he would utterly devour you at all times (TW very filthy ask I LOVE IT)

‼️ Tied Up Too Tight ‼️

Detective Quinn x Birdies first date? Sort of. Quick hint: Porsche hood, nasty sex and handcuffs. ‼️TW ‼️lots of filth oh lord. Seriously.

🔪❤️‍🩹 better watch out babes-

🥀 Pick Your Poison 🥀Prince Paul x Reader || Part I, 9.2k words

Summary: You have Mother Russia melted deep into the marrow of your bones, and you’re not afraid to grit your teeth and have a scrappy fight. Draw out a little of that pumping hot slavic blood you’re so proud of.

“Charmed.” You smile at him with your perfectly rouged lips. You sneer him like a viper. Like you’re another one of the delicious black widows formed from these courtly, poison-skated walls.

He stalks off and Minister Panin bows to you all. Scurries along after him like a puppy.

Catherine isn’t displeased or discouraged by her sons frosty behaviour. She was expecting it.

You watch him stride away. Sip your champagne and drag your eyes over his back. He must store such tension in those reedy shoulders. Keeps it stored under that ridiculous wig maybe.

All of Russia is owed to him by birth and he’s kept a hairs breadth from clutching it.

🥀 Keep watch over the door of my lips 🥀 Prince Paul x Reader, Drabble.

Summary: Newlyweds, noble jealousy, and vicious court gossip. They seldom mix. 1.7k words. (Only a dash of smut)

🥀 Necessary Evils 🥀 Prince Paul x Reader, Drabble.

Summary: Short drabble: Prince Paul + Tsarevna + Pregnancy sex = F I L T H

🥀 The Matter of a Good Taste 🥀

Summary: Short drabble: Prince Paul + Tsarevna + some let me make you feel better oral sex. (Filthy but sweet married filth)

🥀 And the stars sighed in unison 🥀

Summary: Short drabble: Prince Paul + Tsarevna + some pre-wedding sex and general naughtiness. (Fiancé filth)

🥀 Blessed be the bitter fruit 🥀 Prince Paul x Reader || Part II, 7.8k Words

Summary: Your marriage to Prince Paul and all the intimacy that follows, being love drunk newlyweds. (So much porn ok)

🥀Qualities of Mercy🥀

Summary: Prince Paul x Tsarevna Drabble inspired by the prompt: “If you want to come, you better beg.”

🥀 Traps with Baited Jaws 🥀 Prince Paul x Reader || Part III, 14.8k words,

Summary: There’s a snake in the palace garden. Blood spattered on Catherine’s pet rosebushes. Reader learns that Ruling all of Russia comes at a gutting price- (TW so much subby!Paul smut, violence, mentions of gore/death)

🍾 Ralph x Reader 🍾 short drabble/anon ask

Set in the 1920’s. Meeting Ralph at a wild party

⚔️ Gladiator II —Emperor Geta x Salacia Reader

Summary: You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways

Part I. — Part II — Part III — Part IV

[mykuup]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ〖 𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 〗

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰ 𝐦 𝐲 𝐚 𝐨 𝟑 ▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

🎀 Fluff // 🖤 Smut // 💢Angst

ㅤㅤ🕰️ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐆 𝐄 𝐑 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 🕰️

one shot / blurb

Another kind of D&D campaign (hellcheer) 🖤

Be my muse (e.m x f!reader) 🖤

Remember from middle school? (e.m x f!reader) 🎀💢

Don’t play with a heart PT1 (hellcheer) 🖤

You're safe with me (e.m x mermaid f!reader) 🎀

serie / au

Of bone and bloom (cryptid!e.m x f!reader) 🎀🖤💢

Strangers of the Night (TBA // WIP sneak peak available)

ㅤㅤㅤ🖤 𝐒 𝐋 𝐄 𝐄 𝐏 𝐓 𝐎 𝐊 𝐄 𝐍 🖤

one shot / blurb

Tangled in God's Desires (Halloween offering) 🖤

ㅤㅤㅤ🚄 𝐁 𝐔 𝐋 𝐋 𝐄 𝐓 𝐓 𝐑 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 🚄

one shot / blurb

Wildest Dream (Tangerine x f!reader)🖤

Everything will remain the same (Tangerine x f!reader)🖤💢

ㅤㅤㅤ⚔️ 𝐆 𝐋 𝐀 𝐃 𝐈 𝐀 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐈 𝐈 ⚔️

one shot / blurb

Die prandium God's Meal (Emperor Geta x f!reader)🖤

Ad libitum toward pleasure (Emperor Geta x f!reader)🖤 💢

Ad Libitum part II SOON

Virgo Vestalis SOON