#emperor geta oneshot

[keeryhours]

an heir for an emperor - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

The Emperor wants an heir.

part 2 out now!

Warnings:

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

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N:

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

—

It had been three blissful months of marriage with Geta.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Geta-!”

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

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

“I’m…I’m…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh gods, Geta, yes-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I you, my beloved.”

[angelseraphines]

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ gladiator masterlist. ੈ♡˳

╰┈➤ marcus acacius, lucius, commodus, emperor geta, maximus

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ marcus acacius. ੈ♡˳

tba.

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ lucius. ੈ♡˳

tba.

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ commodus. ੈ♡˳

tba.

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ emperor geta. ੈ♡˳

tba.

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ maximus. ੈ♡˳

tba.

[crossingthedreams]

wake up — marcus acacius x f!reader

a/n: this is short, angsty and heartbreaking. i can’t bring myself to write more than this because marcus acacius is already causing me pain before the movie is even released. anyway, i’m late (obv), but here is @angstober day 11 — wake up. enjoy!

masterlist

word count: 460

warnings: angst. death. implied smut. 

“Wake up”, you nudged the man who laid beside you, smile growing wider with every muffled, sleepy sound he let out. He shifted on the bed, his arm pulling you closer to him as he mumbled nonsensical gibberish. You could only laugh, your body nestling in him. 

Nestling close to him, face side by side to your husband’s for the very first time.

You felt a hand in your stomach, and then you were turned to straddle your new husband. 

Your hair falling like curtains molding your face, as his own fell on the pillows like a halo. His hand caressed your bare back, reminding you of how he made you his in more ways than one. 

As your chests pressed against each other, you felt your hearts beating in unissound. 

He smiled softly and finally opened his eyes, those brown orbs immediately finding your gaze. You bit down on your lip, a little anxious. The two of you had met a few times before your wedding day yesterday, but would he still like the sight of his wife on a new day? 

“Good morning, caríssima”, his voice was raspy, but his tone was kind. He was the perfect epitome of what a Roman man should be: strong, protective of his homeland and caring to his family.

A hand reached to take a lock of your hair away from your voice. Much like you now moved his hair away from his face, with the memories of your first night together passing through you, still.

He was still beautiful, even with all the bruises, cuts and dry blood. The smell was awful, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

The medics and soldiers brought him quickly back to Rome after his injuries, but it wasn’t the injuries that worried them. The infection seemed to spread quickly in other men, and the General himself had shown the first symptoms already. In a matter of hours he could perish if nothing was done.

That was still your husband but, at the same time, it wasn’t. 

“Wake up”, you murmured, bringing your face closer to his. His eyes were closed, and his mouth half open. His hair was still soft in between your fingers as you caressed him. 

He didn’t move. 

The tears you were fighting began streaming down your face. No, no, no, no, no, you thought. 

You shook Marcus’ body, grasping his shoulders. Behind you, a soldier vaguely made a move to stop you, but his comrade stopped him. You didn’t pay attention to it. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up”, you were still shaking him, tears flooding. Your strength faded as reality slowly hit you. 

You sank to the floor, face side by side to your husband’s for the last time.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

DOMINATATED BY HIS WRATHFUL DESIRE

Pairings: Emperor Geta x Fem!reader Summary: you are summond to the emperor's chambers after he's heard very upsetting news Warnings: 18+ SMUT! thigh riding, degrading, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, choking, talks of an orgy, Geta.

this is my first time writing for Geta, I've wanted to ever since it came out but i had no ideas. lol

༺⊹₊♰♕♰₊⊹༻

༺⊹₊♰♕♰₊⊹༻

Geta paced his chamber, his fingers twisting together in a restless rhythm.

His tongue flicked at the corner of his mouth, the faintest growl escaping his throat as a frustrated sigh followed. Each step echoed sharply against the cold stone floor, a steady cadence to his mounting agitation.

You had disobeyed him—deliberately, knowingly, and without hesitation. You went against his word, disregarding the warning that carried the weight of his authority.

Now, there would have to be consequences for your actions.

Disloyalty had a price, and tonight, you would pay it in full.

His anger was a controlled fury, his hands balled into fists at his sides as he seethed with barely contained rage. You were his, his possession, his to command- and yet, you had disrespected him in the worst way possible.

Behind his back, you had dared to submit yourself to others in an orgy, an act of pure defiance that he would not tolerate. He would make sure you understood the price of your betrayal. The punishment would not be gentle, but it would ensure you never forgot who you belonged to.

He was the emperor—his commands were not to be challenged, his authority unquestioned. you could have done anything, yet it wouldn't leave such a bitter taste on his tongue as this disrepectful act did.

He had sent for you, and he knew you would come. You had no choice but to obey, to stand before him and face his wrath. He could already feel the weight of his impending words, each one sharper than the last. You would learn your lesson—he would make sure of that.

And then, just as his thoughts hardened into resolve, a knock echoed on his door. The sound reverberated through the quiet room, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to thicken. You had arrived.

His voice boomed, commanding the space, as he allowed you to enter. The moment you stepped inside, you hesitated, almost as though trying to shrink into the shadows of the large door.

"Y-you wanted to see me, my Emperor?" you asked, your voice small, fragile in the silence between you.

For a fleeting moment, a twinge of pity flickered in his chest, but it was quickly smothered by the cold rage that overtook him.

"Come in," he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

When you remained motionless, barely stepping forward, his patience snapped. His eyes darkened, voice rising with fury.

"I WILL NOT TELL YOU AGAIN!" he roared, the words hanging in the air with such force, you felt them reverberate through your very bones.

you step into the light on the night, letting Geta finally get a look at you.

you were scared, Geta could tell as much as he saw the slight tremble in your frame.

"Come here" he pointed to the floor in front of him

you looked down as you rushed across the room to where he wanted you

You stood there, silently, knowing exactly why you were here. The air felt thick with tension; your nerves taut as you waited for him to speak. You had crossed a line, and now you had to pay the price.

You only hoped it would be swift, that his punishment would be over before your resolve shattered completely. The emperor’s anger wasn’t something you took lightly, but in this moment, it was something you deserved. Fear and guilt wrapped around your chest, but you couldn't escape it—this was the price of your disobedience.

as you looked up at him, you were met with a hot strike across the face.

The sting of his slap seared across your skin, and you instinctively recoiled, feeling the burn where his hand had struck. The force of it turned your head, leaving you with a pounding ache and hot tears threatening to spill, but you fought to hide any sign of weakness, keeping your gaze lowered, afraid of provoking him further.

"Did you think I wouldn’t find out?" Geta’s voice was low and controlled, but there was an edge to it—a dangerous edge that sent a chill down your spine.

Before you could react, his hand shot out again, this time catching you by the wrist with a brutal grip. His fingers dug into your skin, the pain searing as he yanked you forward, pulling you into his chest. You tried to pull away, but his strength was overwhelming. His free hand gripped your hair, jerking your head back violently so your face was forced to meet his.

His gaze was molten with fury, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re mine," he growled, his voice thick with rage, “and I will make you remember that.”

With a sudden motion, he slammed you against the stone wall, the impact rattling your bones. You gasped; the air knocked from your lungs as your head spun. The pain was sharp and immediate, but it was nothing compared to the fury in his eyes.

"You think you can disobey me?" he hissed, his fingers tightening around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur at the edges. The pressure was unbearable, the suffocating grip rendering you helpless. The world around you tilted, spinning, and you thought for a moment that you might lose consciousness.

But just as quickly as he had grabbed you, he released his hold, letting you fall to the ground in a heap. You gasped for breath, your hands trembling as you pressed them to your throat, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart.

He stepped back, his eyes never leaving you, cold and calculating. "I warned you. Disrespecting me has consequences."

You struggled to push yourself up from the cold floor, but you could barely manage to get to your knees. The pressure in your chest was still heavy, the panic lingering in your lungs. Every movement felt like an effort, your body weak from the assault, but you knew better than to show any sign of defeat.

Geta stared at you, his eyes dark with anger and something else—something almost predatory. He wasn’t finished with you yet.

"You belong to me," he spat, stepping closer. "And I’ll make sure you remember your place."

you had already known you belonged to him. he had told you he was the only one who was allowed to touch you from the very first time you stepped foot in the palatine.

Even in the orgies he had been involved in, you were always off limits. he always had at least some of his attention on you.

which is why it hurts him that you would go behind his back to involve yourself in an organisation that he had turned down.

you looked up at him, still on your knees as he looked down at you fiercely.

God, how pathetic you looked, kneeling before him, your lashes trembling with unshed tears, your eyes refusing to spill a single drop.

He stepped back, his lip curling in disgust as he spat on the floor, a snarling command following. "Lick it," he ordered, his voice cold and unforgiving.

You glanced at the marble floor, the spit now a stark, disgusting stain against the polished surface. Your frown deepened, eyes flicking up to meet his, confusion flickering in your gaze. He couldn’t possibly -he’d never make you do something so degrading, so...gross. But when his eyebrows arched expectantly, his gaze unwavering, you swallowed your hesitation. Slowly, reluctantly, you lowered yourself to your hands.

You hesitated, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach, but you slowly followed his command. As your tongue brushed the cold stone of the floor, licking at the stick saliva on the marble stone, a shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed, keeping your gaze low, afraid of the consequences that might follow any disobedience. When you looked up, you saw the smirk on his lips, a cruel satisfaction in his eyes, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, making your heart race.

He watched you closely, his lips curling into a thin smirk. "Pathetic," he muttered, his voice icy, "but it’s what you deserve."

Stepping back, he regarded you with disdain, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "Don’t forget this. You belong to me. This is your place."

"I'm sorry. My emperor, I will not disobey you again..." you spoke in a hushed manner

he laughed humourlessly "oh, I know you won't..not when I'm done with you...but after this" he leans down to grab your face forcefully

"if you do it again...I will not be so forgiving" he growls

"I'm so sorry. please, G-geta...I'm yours, all yours" you humed sheepishly

"Beg for it, beg me to forgive you"

You felt your throat tighten at his words, the sting of humiliation burning deeper with each passing second. He wasn’t just punishing you—he was stripping away any semblance of dignity you had left.

"Please, Emperor..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was the only thing you could manage to get past your lips.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Louder," he demanded. "I want to hear you beg. I want you to understand just how much you need my forgiveness."

Your pulse raced, every part of you screaming to flee, but you knew better than to disobey. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced the words out, your voice trembling, "Please, forgive me, Emperor. I’ll never defy you again. I beg you... please."

His eyes narrowed as he observed your every move, the tension between you two thickening with every breath. The silence in the room was suffocating, as if every word you spoke, every action you made, carried the weight of your past decisions. His gaze was piercing, expecting you to submit, to beg for forgiveness, and the room felt smaller with the pressure mounting.

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” His voice was low, cold filled with quiet menace. The anger he felt wasn’t just in his words, but in the way his body tensed, how his hands clenched at his sides as if fighting the urge to act.

You dared to look up, your gaze meeting his for a brief moment before quickly lowering again. The fear, the uncertainty, swirled in your chest. You knew you’d crossed a line, but the fear of his wrath was nearly paralyzing. He wasn’t just an emperor; he was a force—an overwhelming presence. And now, in this moment, you felt as small as you ever had.

“Speak,” he demanded. His voice was like ice, sharp and cutting, but it didn’t falter.

“I... I know what I did,” you whispered, almost choking on your words. “And I am sorry.”

His lips curled into a thin smile, but there was no warmth in it. “Sorry won’t be enough,” he replied. “You’ll need to prove it. Prove you understand what it means to disobey me.”

Your throat tightened as you felt the weight of his expectations. Every instinct told you to run, to escape, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

he let go of your face and stalked over to his bed, sitting on the bed comfortably

"Come!" he raised his voice when you did not follow.

you scrambled to get up, going over his bed to stand in front of him before he raises his hand to pat his thigh.

he didn't need to speak in order for you to know what he wants. you've played this game way too many times.

he moved his heavy robe off his pale thigh and watched as you rolled up your tunica to get up on his lap.

You watched as his once brown eyes go almost completely black with desire, pupils blown wide as you sunk down on his thigh, the only thing preventing you from feeling his soft plush skin was your thin Subligaculum.

he leaned his amrs back and made himself steady before you started rolling your hips.

The second he noticed you grinding against him he’s got a sly little smirk on his face while holding eye contact, glaring at you when you looked away.

he reached up and sent a hard slap against your cheek, a broken sob escaping your lips when you looked back at him.

you were in for a long ride tonight; you were sure of it.

Geta knows he’s supposed to be punishing you, but he can’t stop the way he starts bouncing his leg to meet your selfish grinds. “What’ve you got to say for yourself now, my little whore?” 

“M’sorry!” you whine, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself as he fucks you on his thigh. So hot and messy.

Bouncing his leg faster at your broken whines, all Geta can hear are strained little “M’sorry m’sorry jus’ please. I- I won'do it again”

his smirk only grew as he could feel you become desperate. but that's what you were, weren't you?

you were a dirty girl who needed to know her place. who needed to know who she belonged to

you closed your eyes as you feel your sensitive clit being rubbed on against the thin linens that stop you from making a mess on your emperor's leg.

but you were foolish to think he couldn't feel the wet patch seeping through the fabric.

and it only made him feel more powerful... over you, that is. he knows what he does to you.

Geta's smirk grows wider as he feels your desperation, your body grinding harder against his thigh despite the punishment. His hand slides down to grip your hip, fingers digging in possessively as he continues to bounce his leg beneath you.

"Desperate little slut, aren't you? Think you can beg for forgiveness like some pathetic puppy? and that i'll forgive you?" He leans in close, breath hot against your ear as he growls out each word. 

"You're nothing without me; do you understand that? I'm the one giving you pleasure, the one allowing you to exist in my world."

A sharp nip to your earlobe punctuates his statement before he pulls back, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. 

you're moans grow uneven and Geta knows your close even before you tell him

"I-I'm going to-"

At your warning, Geta chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, 

"Oh, I know you are, my pet. but you know the rules, you cum when I decide you can, and right now, that isn't happening."

He tightens his grip on your wrists, using his free hand to roughly palm your breast, squeezing the soft flesh and tugging at your nipple through the thin fabric of your tunic. 

"We're going to play this game my way, little toy. And trust me, you'll learn to love it."

With a swift motion, he rips the front of your garment open, exposing your breasts to the cool night air and his hungry gaze. 

"Look at these perfect breasts, just begging to be played with, aren't they?"

Geta's fingers dance across your exposed skin, tracing the curve of your breasts before pinching and rolling your nipples between his thumb and index finger.

He watches intently as they harden under his touch, a satisfied hum rumbling in his chest.

"Mmm, yes, much better. let's see you unravel for me, my little whore."

Without warning, he dips his head and captures a pert nipple between his lips, sucking hard enough to elicit a gasp from your throat. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud as he bites down harshly, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

you weren't able to hold in your release anymore, you wanted it to wash over you in the delicious orgasm that he gives you.

but he could sense it. and you wouldn't dare disobey him again.

which is why he pulled you up, pushing you back onto the floor

"get on your knees" he ordered before watching you comply

He begins to undress, undoing his robe, revealing his chiselled physique inch by tantalizing inch. His erection springs free, thick and proud, the tip already glistening with precum. 

Geta steps out of his discarded robes, his naked form glowing in the candlelight. He runs a hand through his tousled firery hair- the colour matching his anger, eyeing you kneeling before him with a smug smile.

"Well now, look at you, so obedient and eager to please. That's more like it, little toy."

he sits back down on the edge of his glorious bed, his rigid cock bobbing with each movement. Reaching down, he wraps a fist around the shaft, stroking it slowly as he gazes into your eyes.

"You're going to worship my cock, pet. Lick it clean, suck it deep, and show me just how grateful you are to be in my presence."

Leaning forward, he guides the tip of his dick to your parted lips, the musky scent of his arousal filling your nostrils. 

"Open wide, whore." he spits

Geta groans in satisfaction as your warm mouth envelops his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. 

"Fuck, that's it... Take it deeper, little slut."

He tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding your movements as you begin to bob your head, taking him further with each pass. The wet sounds of your oral devotion fill the room, mingling with his husky moans of pleasure.

"That's a good girl... Suck my cock like you mean it. Prove you deserve to taste my seed."

He starts to thrust gently, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes, savoring the sensation of your lips and tongue worshipping his manhood.

Geta's grip on your hair tightens as he picks up the pace, his hips snapping forward to bury his cock deeper in your mouth with each thrust. 

"Mmm, yeah, just like that... You love choking on my big dick, don't you? Admit it, little whore"

He leans back slightly, giving you a glimpse of his flushed face and half-lidded eyes, lost in the haze of pleasure your skilled ministrations provide. 

"Fuck, I'm getting close... You'd better swallow every drop when I cum, or there'll be consequences"

you gag on your emperor's member as he thrusts into your mouth selfishly. his low grunts and tights hisses going straight to your aching heat, desperate for the release you almost had.

he pushed your head all the way down and he tuts a sarcastic chuckle as tears brim your eyes.

"that's right, little whore. You're learning your place, aren't you?" he snarls. watching his dick being swallowed by your mouth, his thrusts sloppy as he brings your face down again.

your nose brushes against the bush of hair at his base and the intoxicating scent fills your sinuses, making you hum against his twitching member, sending vibrations that push him over the tow-curling edge.

With a final, forceful plunge, he hits the back of your throat, his balls drawing up tight as he erupts, painting your tongue and the inside of your cheeks with spurt after spurt of his hot, salty essence.

with a long breath, Geta pulls you onto the plush bed, looming over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, your needy sobs echoing in his ears.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you properly, show you what it means to be claimed by an Emperor."

he flips you onto your front and pushes your ass up.

with a smack to the curve of your ass, you moan, both soundsechoing and mixing together, disapearing into the brisk air of his chamber.

Kneeling between your spread legs, he unties your Subligaculum and he grips your thighs, spreading them wider, his hot breath washing over your dripping sex. 

"Such a pretty little cunt, all for me. I'm going to fill you up until you're screaming my name, until everyone in the palace knows who owns you"

he reaches under and his fingers find the sensitive bud of your clit

Geta rubs firm circles around your engorged clit, coaxing out more of the slick arousal coating your inner thighs.

he laughs "Look at this, such a desperate little hole, begging to be filled. And only I can give it what it needs."

He leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm going to make you mine, completely and utterly. By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your old life, only here to be serving a vessel like me, all for my pleasure."

Withdrawing his fingers from your pulsating clit, he lines the broad head of his cock up with your entrance, before slamming into you, giving your ass another delicious slap! making a whiny moan escape from your swollen lips.

you leaned up on your elbows, arching you back as he thrusts into you mercilessly

Geta grunts with primal satisfaction as he sheathes himself fully within your clenching heat, his thick shaft stretching you to the limit. "That's right, take it all, you filthy little whore. This is where you belong, impaled on my cock, nothing else matters."

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with relentless force, each powerful thrust jolting your entire body. The lewd squelching of flesh meeting flesh fills the air, punctuated by your wanton moans and the creaking of the bed beneath you.

"Look at you, so beautifully fucked, your juices running down my balls. You were made for this, to be used and abused by those in power. Now, scream for me, let the whole damn empire know who's claiming you tonight!"

you let out a broken scream for him as you feel his hands snake around you, giving your breasts a harsh squeeze before one goes up to your neck, his thick fingers digging into your paulse point, making you gasp for air as he pulls you closer.

his degrading words bring tears to your eyes as he slams into you from behind.

Geta's fingers tighten around your throat, cutting off your airflow as he presses you flush against his chest, his cock still pistoning in and out of your convulsing pussy.

"Tears of joy, perhaps? Or maybe shame for the pathetic creature you've become, existing solely to serve my desires?" he teases.

He releases your neck just enough to rasp in your ear, "Whatever the reason, it doesn't change the fact that you're mine, forever bound to my will. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence – all belong to me."

you nod tiredly, your body aching and on fire, skin sticking together as your sweat mixes, every clap of skin giving you the atmost pleasure.

"no one else can fuck you like this" he growls angrily.

his nostrils flared and his eyebrows deep in concentration

another slap to your ass brings out another whine

"say it! no one else can fuck you like your emeror does" he grunts

you pant, trying to catch your breath as his thrusts quicken and deepen

"N-no one else..can f-fuckkk me l-ike you...m-my empe-eror" you stutter out in pleasure. your lips quivering as you lean your head back on his shoulder, his hand coming up to choke you once more.

tears stream down your face and he pouts.

Geta's grip on your neck tightens, cutting off your air supply as he continues to rut into you with savage intensity. Your muffled cries and the tears streaming down your face only spur him on, fueling his dark desires.

"That's it, cry for me, beg for mercy. But we both know you'll take whatever I give you, won't you? You're nothing but a plaything, a toy for me to use as I see fit."

his domination is powered by his dark desires to have you as his. you shall be dominated. by him and only him.

his touch is sharp and burns your skin. being sure to leave bruises when you leave his chamber for all to see.

this is what you get. his anger only serves to protect you from anyone else. you mustn't go against him.

he's showing you his power of you. his dominance, his superiority.

His gripfinds your breasts again, pinching and twisting the nipple cruelly as he continues to ravage your body, driving you towards a precipice of agonized ecstasy.

"Now, cum for me, you depraved little slut. Show me the depths of your submission!"

you moan loudly as you let your orgasm wash over you, showing Geta how much pleasure he gives you.

soon after your climax, Geta's own orgasm builds, his balls drawing up tight as he chases the edge of ecstasy. With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep within you, his cock pulsing as he unleashes a torrent of hot semen directly into your womb.

"Yes, take it all, you insatiable slut! Milk my cock dry, show me how much you crave my seed!"

He holds you firmly in place, ensuring not a single drop escapes as he rides out the waves of his orgasm. Finally, he relaxes his grip, allowing you to slump forward, exhausted and spent.

"that will show you who you belong to. that no one is allowed to touch you. you serve for your Emperor. Never forget it." his voice roared

you could hear your plulse through your ears as you rested your body.

Geta withdraws from your body, his softening member leaving you feeling empty and used.

but this is what you deserve.

you are for him

to be dominated by his wrathful desires.

"now leave my sight" he said calmly, putting his robe back as if nothing happened.

you got up, hurrying to put your tunica back on, leaving his room, feeling his seed running out of your throbbing core and down your shaking legs.

༺⊹₊♰♕♰₊⊹༻

[lumillsie]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the gladiator masterlist. ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ emperor commodus, maximus decimus meridius, lucilla, lucius verus aurelius, marcus acacius, emperor geta, emperor caracalla (platonic)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ emperor commodus. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ maximus decimus meridius. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lucilla. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lucius verus aurelius. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ marcus acacius. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ emperor geta. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ emperor caracalla. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

[darklilacs]

in true ridley scott fashion: fuck history fuck canon. geta forgives caracalla and they cross over to the other side together :)

read on ao3 :) Did I disappoint you? Will they still let me over If I cross the line? - beautyofsilence - Gladiator (2000) [Archive of Our Own]

It happened quickly. Much faster than he had anticipated. Thousands of times, he had seen gladiators take their last breath to entertain their emperors and the crowd. They spat blood, their panicked eyes darting around in a desperate attempt to free themselves from bodies that, in their final moments, became inescapable cages. 

Back then, he had found it somewhat amusing. Seeing how, when the end was near, people behaved like desperate. Deep down, Caracalla had always thanked the gods that he would never stand in the arena. His pain would not be a spectacle. Even now, just after death, though a whirlwind of emotions tossed him around like a ship with no destination, he felt relief that he had gone quietly. Without applause or laughter. Just like that. Like an echo.

Caracalla woke up on a beach. The rough, gray sand should have irritated his skin, and left red marks. But his hands remained unchanged. He would have gladly scraped them down to the bone because, he still saw Geta’s gaze behind his eye every time he closed his eyeslids. His brother wasn’t angry with him—that was perhaps the worst part. Geta looked at him with terror, with concern, silently pleading for his brother to come back to him.

Snap out of it, brother. Calm down. Wake up!

Caracalla wasn’t the boy Geta had known his whole life at that moment. 

Caracalla saw red. Lightning in his head thundered loudly, preventing him from forming a coherent thought. The worst thought emerged from the chaos in his gut like a well-nurtured plant: Kill before you are killed.

Caracalla saw red when he was angry.

He saw red in his brother’s hair as the servants carried away his body. His laurel wreath fell to the ground with a clatter. Geta never liked taking off his jewelry. He would have been so angry if he had known...

Caracalla saw red on his own hands when he woke from his trance after the murder. When the ship of his thoughts quietly sailed past the rocks, and the storm subsided. For a long time, he tried to wash the blood off himself. But it kept coming back, as if Caracalla had been condemned after the murder to live as a statue that will always be covered in rust. The color of dried blood on the floor.

Caracalla couldn’t see blood as he rubbed his hands in the sand.

He wanted blood.

Isn’t it funny that he had shouted that just a few days ago, looking down at the arena? Wishing for a spill so vast it would create a sea. And he always got it. Now, he wasn’t worth even a drop.

He buried his face in his hands, breathing heavily. In the afterlife, oxygen was unnecessary, but out of habit, his chest rose and fell unevenly. Sweet air did not grace him with its presence. Having lived in abundance, he was now left with death and grayness. With storms and lightning. No red at all.

The sound of a boat docking on the shore suddenly caught his attention. Was it possible that a lost soul had wandered into the abyss he had created himself? Pluto must have a sense of humor if a stray mortal had been sent to haunt him for eternity. To torment him until, finally, a single drop of blood fell onto the earth covered in gray sand.

Caracalla curled in on himself. Perhaps his new tormentor would be merciful.

"Brother."

Caracalla heard it right beside him.

His muscles tensed instantly. Of course. From now on, Geta's voice would haunt him, accompanied by the endless black sea before him. Instead of the beautiful song of sirens, his brother's concerned voice would lure him toward a happier place he would never find.

"Look at me."

Caracalla felt a hand on his shoulder. He was a fool, yet he raised his head.

Geta’s eyes looked at him with the same concern as that night. He wasn’t afraid for his own life but for Caracalla’s. He feared that he had lost his brother forever.

“I’ve been waiting for you. It’s time to go.”

Geta took his hands and led him closer to the boat. Onboard, a hooded figure was already waiting. Charun.

The myths did not reflect the calm that emanated from his presence. People fear death, the moment they are left alone. It is somewhat comforting that, during the final journey, someone accompanies us.

During Caracalla’s final journey, he will be accompanied by two people. Pluto’s envoy and Geta. Because before they were emperors, before they fell in love with power, they were brothers. Brothers who, during childhood games, made a promise. A promise not meant to be taken as seriously as a vow to the gods. Yet, somewhere in the hearts of both brothers, that promise must have been hidden, safe from the specter of hunger for violence and gold.

Always by your side. Wherever we are.

Caracalla dug in his heels, frightened of this last journey. Geta stopped mid-step, still holding his hands.

“I—I’m sorry,” Caracalla stammered uncertainly. As if he had just learned a new word, one that carried a magic he feared. A word he had avoided like fire—until now.

“I know,” Geta replied gently.

As if he truly understood, what Caracalla felt before he had even managed to voice his emotions aloud. That’s just how he was, wasn’t it? Geta was always right, always knew better. When they were children, Caracalla thought it was a gift. Now, it seemed more like a curse. Whatever he will say, Geta won’t be surprised by his remorse. He won’t notice the change growing within him, hesitant and fragile, like a bird too weak to break through its eggshell.

“Forgive me. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Caracalla fell to Geta’s feet. His brother knelt down in front of him, not letting go for a second. A comically tragic mirror of the pose they had taken that night. On their knees, torn by conflicting emotions. 

But this time, Caracalla didn’t see red. He saw a warm brown. The color of Geta’s eyes. The color that reminded him of home. Of reassurance.I’m here with you, and everything will be okay.

“I forgive you, brother.”

Caracalla exhaled unevenly, as if he had taken a breath of fresh air. He tasted the sweet fruit he had longed for.

Caracalla buried his face in the crook of his neck. He could have started crying. But not now. Not here. It was too soon. He couldn’t wait to see the blue again.

“Come on. We should go.”

The brothers left the beach. Together. Just as they had promised each other years ago. Caracalla could have sworn that before the boat pushed off from the shore, he heard Geta’s voice.

Always by your side. Wherever we are.

[clown420cunt]

I wanna write some Emperor Geta fics/one shots but I have no good ideas right now and it’s bugging me because I’m in the mood to write 😩

[drownedthemall]

sweetness of her laughter

part 3 - lavender

caracalla x noble!reader x geta

a/n - i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

i'm open to writing some oneshots, so if you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them! i have like zero boundaries, so go wild lmao

3.5k words

summary - caracalla has taken an obvious liking to you, but how does geta feel about you?

they've also invited you to join them in the entertainment hall but how will they react when you try to leave?

The Emperors have just dismissed you and the General. Geta and Caracalla are left lounging in the entertainment hall. The younger brother calls for the cupbearer to refill his goblet. Caracalla breaks the boredom-filled silence with a question. "So, what do you think of her?", he peers forward, trying to gauge his brother's reaction. "Do you like her?" he continues.

Geta, without facing him, responds, "I don't know what it is you see in her, brother." This causes Caracalla to groan, frustrated by his brother’s answer. He leans back in his cushioned seat, pouting, arms crossed.

---

You're awoken by a couple of maids surrounding your bed. This startles you. You sit up. The smooth, silky covers that you had slept in slide off your shoulders and drape around your waist. You catch your breath as you realise where you are and the predicament you're in. They comfort you in a panic, buzzing around like flies, "We're so sorry, Princess, we didn't mean to startle you!"

You raise one of your hands, rubbing your eyes with your palm, "It's fine," you manage to mumble in your sleep-stricken phase.

This calms them. "I've prepared your clothing," one of them explains softly. "Which Emperor Geta picked out," she then adds. This piques your interest momentarily.

The other chimes in, "They await you in the gardens," she mentions with importance in her voice.

All of this information barely registers as you try to desperately get rid of the drowsiness. You acknowledge their chattering with a hum, hoping it will suffice. Thankfully, they catch on, and you hear their footsteps grow quieter as they leave your safe haven.

You sigh as you move from under the covers. Sliding off the bed and placing your bare feet onto the cool flooring. You cringe at the change in temperature. You raise your head to see a subtle blue stola, folded on a chair. Only noticing the colour when your eyes settle on it. You wonder if that's Geta’s favoured colour.

As you dress, you're reminded of your encounter with Caracalla last night. The thought makes you fumble with the material in your hands. You huff, trying to shoo away the memory. Annoyed at yourself for feeling so flustered. They're bloodthirsty, horrible, incompetent Emperors, you jest. You need to stop yourself from feeling this way about them.

---

You leave your chambers, all freshened up and ready for the day. You adorned yourself with your own jewellery, which didn't really fit with the Roman fashion trends. Which wasn't bad; it just made you stand out. If anything, it represents where you're from and reminds you of home. This bestows you with a little bit of comfort as you wander these foreign lands.

The two praetorians lead you to the gardens; one walks behind you, while the other is in front leading the way. They don't muster up any small talk, only fulfilling their assigned roles. This undoubtedly bores you.

The moment you're outside, you can see the sun peak past the columns, feeling the contrast between the stars' warmth and the cool morning breeze. As you enter the gardens, you can hear the fruit tree leaves rustling, noticing the colourful fruit pop out against the green.

As you wander deeper, the praetorians leave you. Amidst the blooming flowers, a table is set up. You see the two Emperors already sitting. They were sat on the same side. You can also hear some bickering between the two, but you can't make out what they're saying. The noises of a squealing monkey don't help with your attempt at eavesdropping. As you get closer, Geta moves his attention to you. Caracalla is visibly annoyed at his brother for ignoring him, but he still turns his head to see who has grabbed his brother’s focus. His annoyance instantly dissipates, eyes softening at the sight of you.

He seems mesmerised by the way the sun enlightens you. How it casts a glow over your hair and jewellery. You stand before them. "Morning, Emperors," you greet them both.

"Please sit." Geta instructs as he motions for the chair opposite them. You do as told.

The table was carved from limestone; it had been plated with a variety of food. From savouries such as cheese, eggs, and bread. To sweet, such as fresh and dried fruit like dates, apricots, and figs. There were cups placed for each of you, with a cupbearer standing away from earshot. None of the Emperors has yet filled their plates; either they had just arrived or they were waiting for you to join. There's a resounding silence between the three of you, with both of them unapologetically staring at you. You think they'd be aware of some social etiquette. You try to avoid their eyes by focusing on the monkey Caracalla is accompanied by. It sits atop his head; you hate to admit how cute the sight is.

"Do you want to hold him?" says the brother in gold. His raspy voice alluded to the fact he awoke not long ago. Before you can respond, "Here," he softly manoeuvres the monkey into your grasp.

You rush to hold out your hands. The cutely dressed primate is perched in your arms. You smile at the way he leans into your touch. You can't help but giggle at the chirping noises it creates. "What's his name?" you ask, glancing upwards at the Emperors. Geta is drinking his wine, while the other is providing you his full attention.

"Dondas," Caracalla answers solemnly. Geta then intervenes, "Have you ever seen one before?" motioning with his cup to the monkey.

You move your gaze to the younger one. "Seen what? ... A monkey?" you redundantly ask, "No, I have not," you answer, letting the monkey return to his owner. “Where I’m from, they wouldn’t last long, so I’ve only heard stories,” you explain.

Geta hums, acknowledging your answer.

"Wine?" Caracalla asks as Dondas perches up on his shoulder.

"Uhm, yes, that would be very ki-"

"Cupbearer!' he shouts, snapping his fingers for more emphasis.

Your cup is filled to the brim with wine. The brothers then soon after start adding food to their plates, and you follow suit.

All that can be heard is the sound of you three eating. Followed by the sounds of the birds residing in the gardens. The eldest brother can be seen sharing pieces of fruit with Dondas. This leaves you smiling at such a sweet gesture. You think this goes unnoticed, but you feel a pair of eyes burning into your skull. These two have such a staring problem, Gods.

"We'd like you to join us in the entertainment hall this afternoon," the one in cool tones states. Making your smile falter slightly. "Of course, I'd be honoured," you politely nod.

He turns his attention to the one in red; his demeanour seems to have become softer. His shoulders slump, letting his guard down. He begins, "Macrinus keeps boasting about his new gladiator." He sips on some wine. “ Have you heard, brother?”, he finishes.

"Yeah! He'll be bringing him today, right?" Caracalla giggles at the thought of what's to come.

---

Surprisingly, the Emperors were the first to leave the table as they had duties to attend to. Whatever they were... You didn't care to pry.

This left you with a couple of hours to spare before your presence was required in the entertainment hall. They emphasised that you were to do whatever you pleased, as long as it was within the palace grounds. This was annoyingly restricting, but you hoped this would be temporary.

You decide to spend your time roaming around the gardens. They were absolutely beautiful; you were fascinated at how the plants differed from the ones you knew of back home. You smelt and admired almost every blooming flower you came across. As you inhale the scent of lavender, you hear some chatter. This intrigues you, and you try to focus on their words.

You see their figures; they were only a few feet away. They were servants by the looks of it, responsible for the upkeep of the garden you're currently in. They had not yet noticed you as they continued gossiping away.

"Can you believe them?" one puffs his chest.

"I know, right? They never leave their chambers this early," the shorter man adds.

"The amount of abuse the other servants had to endure is unbelievable. They were so adamant about having breakfast in the gardens," he rants to the man, going on and on. Enunciating each word. The other man nods in agreement, listening to his complaints.

"So unlike them," he continues.

"I think they want to impress that new foreign lady that's here."

"You think so? I thought, sh-", your foot accidentally scuffs against the gravel; this makes them stop and snap their heads towards the location of the sound.

Their faces pale at the sight of you.

You can't help but laugh at their reaction. You try to soothe them by complimenting their work and the botany surrounding you. You can’t imagine what fear the Emperors have instilled in the servants and maids that work here.

---

You hear of a commotion forming in a part of the palace. It seems people have already started gathering in the hall. This tells you that your time of mindlessly wandering around has ended. A praetorian stands in front of you, declaring that your presence is needed in the entertainment hall. Right on time.

You're relieved to see that the room is not yet full, only a few nobles gathered in some parts of the room. You're guided to where the Emperors are lounging at. They were seated on a creme, cushioned lectus, that had a gold trim and an ornate pattern in the fabric. Caracalla was in his preferred position, slumped over with his legs spread wide open. His togas length falling in-between. You shy away at the sight. While Geta was a lot more modest with his pose. Slouched forward instead, holding the hand of a concubine.

The concubines that surround them are more resigned, keeping to themselves. Which is a stark difference from when you first met the Emperors. Getas ones are still a bit handsy, however.

"We're so glad you're here to join us, Princess", the one in silver declares, speaking for the both of them.

"I'm honoured you've invited me", you politely respond. Fiddling with the bracelets you're wearing.

"Come sit!" Caracalla announces with his arms wide open. He sits up and pats a spot to the left of him. Wanting you to sit beside him.

You smile and head over to where he's sat. As you near the lectus, Geta pulls at your wrist. Forcing you to sit in between the both of them. Caracalla shoots a glare towards his brother. His grip remains on your wrist, but after you've settled he softens and lets go. It seems Caracalla wanted to hog you all for himself. He doesn't say anything but Geta can hear the cogs turning in his head.

"Symmetry," Geta states offhandedly, ignoring his brother’s disgruntled face. You can't help but chuckle at his retort.

"What's funny.", the one in gold grimaces, eyeing you. This throws you off. This is the first time he's talked to you in such a way. "Uh, nothing, Emperor", you stammer.

Geta flat-out ignores the change in his brother’s demeanour and perks up, "Have you ever been to the arena and seen a gladiator fight?" He asks with genuine interest.

"..No, Emperor, I have not". You've had chances to attend but you never did. Having a distaste towards such unnecessary suffering.

"Really??", he muses, leaning in closer to you. "Well, you're really lucky then, you'll be getting front-row seats."

You feel nauseous at the idea. There was only so much blood you could endure. You've seen people die before but... When people are dying for entertainment? That just makes you sick to the stomach.

You smile softly, "That's so generous of you Emperors, I'm thankful for the opportunity", you flatter.

You three quiet. All that can be heard is the chatter of nobles and the sound of light music playing. They both were so close. The lectus was long enough to allow wider spaces between the three of you. However, it seemed they had no care for this.

You can smell Caracalla again, the same way you were able to when he was in your chambers. Caracalla’s mood seems to be the same. Because of this, he's keeping to himself and so is Geta. You're honestly thankful for this. Sparing you some tranquillity for a short while. You innocently ask, without much thought, "Will Acacius be attending this today?"

Geta almost instantly scowls. Noticing that you dropped his title completely. Now both of their moods have gone sour. The somewhat comfortable silence has now turned into a suffocating tension.

Geta shifts in his seat, "No, he's busy fucking Lucilla after being gone for so long.", giving you a half-assed answer.

You feel a pit in your stomach. You regret ever speaking. "Why? You miss him or something?", Caracalla jabs.

"No, no, I just thought that this would be something he would attend" you, answer genuinely believing this.

Caracalla leans forward, and his arm wraps around your waist. His other hand comes to gently move the hair from out of your eyes. You can see the blemishes and scars his skin is littered with, and how the makeup tries to conceal it. His breath ghosts your ear.

"Did you two fuck..?" he barely whispers this, intending it to be heard by others. Desiring to further embarrass you.

You turn red. Your eyes dart all over his face, shocked at such a question. He gasps, a grin appearing on his lips. "What will Lucilla think?" he actually whispers this time.

You shake your head, "I would never..!" you protest plainly, flustered at the accusation.

You can admit to yourself that the General is a good-looking man, but such unsavoury thoughts have never crossed your mind. You were too busy worrying about your fate to even feed those delusions.. or decisions.

You notice Geta scanning your face, they're both amused and smiling at your discomfort. Their moods have improved but only at your expense. You're all three pulled out of your inside joke as a man greets the Emperors. They seemed excited by his presence.

"Macrinus," Geta greets. The man that stood before you three was dressed in a dark toga. The man's appearance seems familiar to you but you can't make out where you’ve seen him before.

"Have you two bet yet?" he enquires with a sly leer.

Caracalla chuckles at his fowardness, "We have trust in your fighter, Macrinus".

"He will not disappoint, Emperors" he insists, nodding to make a point. Geta acknowledges this with a hum, scratching his chin absentmindedly, waiting for him to leave them be.

Macrinus instead, decides to point his attention to you. You were hard to avoid, not only because of your appearance but because you were sandwiched in between the Emperors of Rome.

"Who's this?" he asks, innocently. Inquiring into your background.

They both simultaneously turn to you. They introduce you to him and you make acquaintance, "Pleasure to meet you, Macrinus", you say on cue.

"Likewise, Princess. What brings you to Rome?", he smiles. This continuous questioning has annoyed the brothers. As you're about to respond, Geta intervenes, "Visiting", providing a one-word answer to stop his interrogation.

The people of Rome have no idea that the Emperors are searching for an Empress. The two of them are insistent in trying to keep this hush-hush. Attempting to avoid any disappointed nobles that can’t present their own daughters as bachelorettes. However, your presence has still led to rumours and inquiries into why you’re here. Many are more-so confused about why they had chosen you, you were not a well-known name amongst royals.

This causes Macrinus' confidence to falter. He mutters under his breath. "Well, I hope you enjoy the many pleasures of Rome, Princess," he states before disappearing from their increasing displeasure.

---

As more treasured nobles and rich folk fill the hall, Macrinus is asked to introduce his overly praised fighter.

You notice that the Emperors beside you topple forward, directing all of their attention to what's happening before them. You’re finally free from Caracalla’s grasp.

The man, that is owned by Macrinus, looks tired and vengeful. He looks like that’s what he ran off of, rage. You wonder what led him to be here. You felt pity for him, but you doubt he's the kind of man to appreciate such a sentiment. You assume he's the kind to view it as an insult. 

Caracalla interjects the fight, seemingly annoyed, "Swords!" he declares. "We want swords.", he throws a couple to the ground for them to clamour to. He returns to his seat, placing an arm around your waist, once more.

The violence has just begun and you signal to the cupbearer for a drink, you don't know how much you can endure of this while sober. You hope this gives you some solace.

You wince as the man staggers forward, pouncing on his opponent. You hear gasps amongst the crowd as each slice and pound of a fist makes contact with flesh. You barely pay attention, focusing on Caracalla’s subtle squeezes to your hips, him pulling you closer as the fight escalates. You feel his rings dig into your skin, the cool metal subduing the stress, allowing you to focus on that instead of the fight.

Squelch. The crowd gasps and turns silent. Thud. The man falls to the ground at the hands of the vengeful one. Geta jumps out of the lectus, arms raised.

"Remarkable!!" he shouts, his voice loud, resounding in the hall.

He passes past Macrinus, "Congratulations." he quickly notes.

His breathing is fast and erratic, excitement courses through him. "From where are you?" he demands from the shackled man.

The interaction between the Emperor and the winner is tuned out by your breathing. You watch as the dead man gets dragged out from behind him. Seeing the blood smear and stain the once white marbled floor. You feel nauseous at the sight, gulping down more wine than should be necessary. The deep colour only reminds you of the event that just took place.

You notice that after the bloodied man's poem, he looks at you. None of the brothers see this. Caracalla stumbles from his seat, praising Macrinus for such an amusing show. Leaving you, momentarily.

The winning man is then guided to a healer. He's appointed to play in the upcoming gladiator games. In your now cloudy mind, you wish him luck. Knowing that only death will follow him.

However this isn't the end, you’re told there's more entertainment to come. But, you feel as though this was more than enough excitement for today.

As they return to their lounge area, they sit on either side of you. Instead, you stand with your cup in hand. Caracalla instinctively grabs ahold of the end of your blue stola. You can see their faces contort. "..I don't feel well," you mumble, they await for you to continue. "I feel that I should return to my chambers..", you carefully reason, taking a step from them.

Geta takes your hand in his. You try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer. "Stay," he demands.

You stay quiet at his demand. He forces you into his hold, making you sit in his lap. His scent clouds your senses. The proximity doesn't subdue how nauseous you feel. Caracalla stares at the two of you. You're unable to read his expression, you think that the wine may be at fault for this. You feel Geta’s arms enrapture around your waist. Your arm finds itself naturally behind him, holding onto his shoulder for support.

Caracall tries convincing you in his own twisted way, "It was fun," referencing the brawl that just ended.

Geta adds, "You'll learn to enjoy it", he leans against the lectus, your body is now fully pressed up against his. His words imply that there will be more violence-filled games for you to witness.

This visit doesn't seem as temporary as you had prayed it would be.

---

The evening has come to a close and they're now trudging their way to their chambers. You had still managed to leave early, thank the gods. It wasn't as early as you would've liked but you were pleased either way. Small victories, you jest.

They both walk together through the halls. Geta is then reminded of you as they pass by your room. "I think I do", he declares, his voice echoing against the barren walls.

"What.?", the older one furrows his brows.

"Like her", he continues.

"You think you like her?", Caracalla asks, putting his brother’s sentence together.

"Yes.", he hums.

"Who?", Caracalla asks, scratching his head in an attempt to make sense of who he was talking about. Geta just stays silent, side-eyeing his brother as they reach their own chambers.

taglist - @duckyhowls @himikoquack @lover-rep-fanfic @t6gse370 <3

[freakynote]

ABOUT ME ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

eighteen years old | she her hers | intj-t

THINGS I WRITE

( favs are also written in purple )

female oc x male character

female oc x female character ( depends on the request )

different types of headcanons

oneshots ( fluff ,angst… )

fanfictions

how characters would react to

nsfw alphabet

sfw alphabet

chats

—> request are open!

FANDOMS / CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

I also write for other fandoms and characters, just send a request <3 My favorite fandoms are written in purple!

death note — l lawliet ,light yagami ,near ,mihael keehl ( mello ) ,teru mikami ,mail jeevas ( matt ) ,misa amane

alice in borderland — shuntarõ chishiya ,ryõhei arisu ,suguru niragi ,daikichi karube ,morizono aguni ,õki yaba ,sunato banda

game of thrones — jon snow ,jaime lannister ,robb stark ,viserys targaryen ,oberyn martell ,tyrion lannister ,podrick payne ,eddard stark ,bronn ,petyr baelish ,ramsay bolton ,daenerys targaryen ,sansa stark

house of the dragon — daemon targaryen ,aegon targaryen ,aemond targaryen ,jacaerys velaryon ,cregan stark ,lucerys velaryon ,benjicot blackwood

vikings — ragnar lothbrok ,bjorn lothbrok ,ivar the boneless ,ubbe ,rollo ,harald finehair ,hvitserk

the last kingdom — uhtred ,sigtryggr ,aethelstan ,edward ,aethelred ,finan ,sihtric

gladiator I & gladiator II — commodus ,maximus ,lucius ,acacius ,emperor geta ,emperor caracalla

cobra kai — miguel diaz ,robby keene ,eli moskowitz ( hawk ) ,kwon jae-sung ,axel kovačević ,sensei wolf

karate kid — daniel larusso ,johnny lawrence ,terry silver

the walking dead — daryl dixon ,rick grimes ,negan smith ,carl grimes

lord of the rings — aragorn ,legolas ,boromir ,faramir

the hobbit — thorin oakenshield ,bard ,thranduil ,legolas ,kili ,bilbo

the boys — homelander ,the deep ,soldier boy ,billy butcher

troy — achilles ,hector ,paris

true beauty — han seo-jun ,lee su-ho

squid game — thanos ( player 230 ) ,salesman ,hwang in-ho ( front man | player 001 ) ,lee myeong-gi ( player 333 ) ,hwang jun-ho ( policeman )

all of us are dead — lee cheong-san ,yoon gwi-nam ,lee su-hyeok ,han gyeong-su ,jang woo-jin

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[biapascal]

Family

Hey folks! I hope you are having a good day. I am back with another Acacius oneshot regarding his family life <3 🪶

I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Elisa is the aunt of Caracalla and Geta (also Elisa and Bianca aren't roman names I know) Sorry for the mistakes!

Warnings: none, pure fluff.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

He had a crimson battle mark on his face, and his bones were tired and weighed down. The wine poured on the wound burned, and Acacius clenched his teeth in a grimace of pain. The cut was deep and the skin needed stitching. He concentrated on praying to the gods as he bandaged it. The chariot for his return home arrived a few hours later. The battle had exhausted him, both physically and mentally; he slept soundly during the journey, knowing that he would bring home another victory and make the emperors happy. The general was proud to have kept his promise and returned to his family, but not to have satisfied the two tyrants' thirst for conquest.

Elisa had little or no sleep during this time. During the day she had to manage the villa, and at night she prayed to the gods not to take her husband from her. Each time he returned, Acacius noticed that his companion grew more withdrawn in his absence, and his heart clenched to know that his absence was causing so much pain. Thecla begged her to go to the baths to restore some balance to her troubled mind and body, but the presence of the other soldiers' mates made the experience even more uncomfortable. Many husbands were unfaithful, and their wives knew it well. Elisa had never doubted the general's fidelity, which soon became an object of ridicule: "You think so because he is an intelligent man, but my dear, he is still a man. And men are all the same and they only want one thing..." one of them had said, causing a series of giggles from the other weasels. Elisa suddenly came out of the water and quickly covered herself. "What, does the truth hurt you? Elisa, you are so beautiful, go and have fun while your husband is having a good time, instead of feeling sorry for nothing!" She wanted to attack her, but she just forced a smile. "I'm going, I have to get back to my daughter." She muttered.

She had never been well regarded or accepted by the women of the city: the color of her hair made her the victim of a seemingly ambiguous morality, she was the aunt of two tyrants, and she had lost a child. In a patriarchal society like the Roman one, her loss was a real burden and, above all, a guilt in the eyes of others. Bianca's birth had filled her heart with joy, and Acacius had not hesitated to claim her as his own. But the child would grow up and not be able to carry on the family name. She would become someone's bride and could aspire to nothing more. Elisa was lucky to love her husband, but most marriages were not happy. Geta and Caracalla often talked about Bianca's future, and the woman had a bad feeling about it. She did not talk about it with her husband because she was afraid to admit what she was terrified of.

When she saw Acacius being carried inside, struggling to be supported by servants in the hall, her eyes fell on the wound in his side. "My gods!" she ran to him and shook his hands, rough, battlefield veterans. Acacius smiled weakly, looking exhausted. "Let me lie down before Bianca realizes I'm back and jumps on me and breaks my bones," he chuckled. Elisa had tears in her eyes. There was no time to thank the Lari; she had her husband brought to her room immediately. "Bring the offerings and leave us alone," she ordered, then approached the man. She carefully examined each wound on his body as he stroked her cheek. "This is exactly why I am alive," he affirmed with an edge to his voice, comforted by his wife's affection. "You need to rest," she begged him, moistening a cloth with warm water and gently patting his forehead. "I want to see Bianca, where is she?" Elisa smiled. "She's out with Tecla, you'll see how happy she'll be to see you, she only talked about you. You almost made me jealous."

When Bianca entered the room, she gave a little cry of joy and jumped on her father's bed. "Bianca, stop! You're hurting him!" Her mother had to restrain her, for the child paid no attention to the man's wounds. She traced the stitched skin with her fingers, making Acacius howl in pain. "Did they open you up?" she asked naively. Elisa blocked her by squeezing her arm. "Bianca, calm down!" She scolded her. She turned to her mother and gave her a guilty look. "Did I hurt him?" She asked with a sharp edge in her voice. Acacius tenderly pulled her close again and she giggled. "When are you going to be more gentle?" He asked before giving her a kiss on the forehead that made her nose crinkle into a grimace. "When I become a general like you!" Elisa sighed and the man did not answer. "Shall we let him rest a while?" Bianca widened her eyes and leaned back on her elbows. "Rest?! But Daddy has to tell me EVERYTHING," Acacius raised his eyebrows. "EVERYTHING?" The little girl let out an elbow over one of the wounds, startling him. "Yes," she nodded, "you have to tell me how you overcame everything!"

[keeryhours]

the emperor’s love - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Main Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.

Part 1

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N:

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!

—

“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”

“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.

“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”

“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”

“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”

You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.

“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”

You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”

He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.

Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”

You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”

A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”

He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.

He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.

You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.

The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.

Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.

It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.

Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.

Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?��

You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.

“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”

He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.

“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”

You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.

He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.

He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.

“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.

“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”

Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”

“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”

His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.

“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.

“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.

“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”

Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.

He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.

These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.

You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.

“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”

You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“

“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”

You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.

“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”

“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.

“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”

Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.

“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”

[mypoisonedvine]

ghost oneshot coming today, working on my next series chapter, and I've got a few ideas going for emperor geta (one of which I'd really love to finish over the weekend)

this is me rn fr

[samslvrgirl]

Who I write for + Requests

Currently taking requests for the following fandoms/characters/actors:

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Jensen Ackles

Soldier Boy

Beau Arlen

Alec McDowell

Jared Padalecki

Cordell Walker

Dean Forester

Camden Casey

Cillian Murphy

Thomas Shelby

Jonathan Crane

Jackson Rippner

Neil Lewis

Kitten Braden

Matthew Joy

Jim (28 Days Later)

Jim (The Delinquent Season)

Joseph Quinn

Eddie Munson

Emperor Geta

Eric (aqpdo)

Michael (Hoard)

Fred Hechinger

Simon Kalivoda/Isaac

Emperor Caracalla

Daniel Markowitz

What i write: fluff, smut, angst, oneshot, drabbles etc. Anything consensual.

What I will NOT write: CNC, rape, drugging, piss/fecal, and anything that's either discriminating and/or any physical/sexual abuse.

I'll update this post if anything changes.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

LUPERCALIA

Pairings: Emperor Geta x Fem!reader Summary: You participate in Lupercalia with your husband. Warnings: 18+ smut. MDNI mention of whipping, nudity. p in v

This is my first fic for my Valentine event!

Valentine Masterlist

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

The torches burned low in the grand halls of the Palatine Palace, their golden glow flickering against the marble columns. Beyond the palace walls, Lupercalia roared through the streets of Rome. Laughter and drunken chants echoed through the Forum, accompanied by the steady pounding of bare feet against stone. The scent of sacrificial blood, burnt offerings, and spiced wine carried on the cold February air.

From the terrace overlooking the city, Emperor Geta stood, his expression unreadable as he observed the chaos below. Half-naked Lupercalia, still streaked with goat’s blood, ran wild, striking young women with thin strips of hide in a ritual meant to bless them with fertility and ease childbirth. The women laughed and shrieked, but they did not run. They stood willingly, arms outstretched, eager for the blessing.

At his side, you watched as well. Your dark eyes, lined with kohl, flickered between the crowd and your husband’s silent disapproval.

"You call it ridiculous," you mused, "but Rome calls it tradition."

Geta exhaled sharply, swirling his Falernian wine in a silver goblet. "Rome also believed that Romulus and Remus suckled at the teat of a she-wolf. Superstition, all of it."

"And yet," you murmured, your gaze turning back to the spectacle below, "you do not forbid it."

He scoffed. "Because Rome would riot if I did."

A cool breeze drifted through the open-air terrace, rustling the golden embroidery on your stola. You turned toward him, your voice softer now. "Would you deny me the same luck?"

His fingers tensed around the goblet. He knew what you meant. A child. An heir.

For all his wealth, for all the power of his name, it was the one thing he had not yet secured. His father, Septimius Severus, had raised two sons to rule Rome, and now Geta ruled alone, His brother's condition so bad he is unable to rule. Which leaves Geta alone, with no child of his own to follow him. He knew how Rome whispered about it. How they whispered about you.

His gaze lingered on you in the torchlight- the high cheekbones, the regal bearing, the way you carried yourself with the grace of a woman who had spent your entire life in the shadow of emperors. He had chosen you not just for your lineage but for your mind, your sharp wit, the way you stood beside him in a world where women were expected to stand behind.

After a moment, he set his goblet down and gestured to a waiting servant. A strip of goat hide, still fresh from the sacrifice, was placed into his open palm.

You knew the custom. You knew what was required.

Wordlessly, you stepped away from the warmth of your cloak, undoing the golden pins that held the fabric in place, letting it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. The air was cold against your skin, but you did not flinch. You wore only the fine linen undertunic beneath, light and thin enough that every movement of your body was visible beneath the fabric.

The Lupercalia rite demanded that women be struck bare-skinned, unobstructed by heavy garments. In the streets, Roman women stood unclothed, laughing and reaching for the lashes as if inviting the gods’ favour. Here, in the privacy of the palace, you stood before Geta, the man who ruled an empire, the man who had never needed to prove his power over you.

Geta hesitated. The emperor of Rome, the son of gods, bound by a tradition older than the Republic itself. Then, with a quiet breath, he brought the leather down in a sharp, decisive strike against your thigh.

The first lash was firm but controlled, the sting blooming across your skin in a heat that spread through your limbs. You inhaled sharply, your fingers curling at your sides, but you did not retreat. You had asked for this. You had asked him to honour the gods, to honour you.

The second strike came swiftly after, higher this time, catching the curve of your hip. The fabric of your undertunic did little to dull the sensation; if anything, it heightened it, pressing against the warmth rising beneath your skin. Geta’s eyes darkened as he watched you, the flickering torchlight reflecting the way your breath quickened.

Again, the lash fell. Then again. A steady rhythm, measured, deliberate. It was not punishment- it was ritual. It was devotion. It was an offering, not just to the gods, but to each other.

By the time the final stroke landed, a soft gasp left your lips, and the silence that followed was thick with something unspoken. Geta dropped the leather to the floor between you, his breathing uneven. Slowly, carefully, he reached for you, his fingers brushing against the reddened skin where the lashes had landed.

His voice was quiet. "Does it hurt?"

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze. "Would it matter if it did?"

A muscle in his jaw flexed. He hated that you were right.

He cupped your hip, his thumb tracing the mark he had left there. "The gods have heard you now."

"And you?" you whispered. "Do you hear me?"

Geta said nothing at first. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he pressed his forehead to yours, his grip tightening as if anchoring himself to you. "I hear you."

"Then listen closely," you murmured, tilting your head to brush your lips against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble that indicates the day's celebrations have begun without him. "I want more than Lupercalia blessings from the gods. I want our blessings, Geta. Our child, our heir."

His hands tensed, gripping your waist harder, as if he could physically hold onto your words, make them tangible. "I know," he breathed, his voice strained. "Believe me, I know."

"But can you give it to me?" You asked, your fingers trailing up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath the linen of his tunic. "Can you give us the future we both desire?"

Geta pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours in the dim light.

You and your dear Emperor have tried, you have tried so so many times to become with child, but after so many failed attempts, you pray that this would work out for you both.

It would be a shame to fail to give your husband a child. It hurt you.

"I am trying," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Every night, every dawn… I pray, I offer sacrifices, I seek omens and portents. But the gods remain silent. They withhold their favour, leaving me with nothing but frustration and despair."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Sometimes I wonder if it's because of me. If I'm not worthy of their blessing. That perhaps I'm cursed, doomed to rule without an heir, without legacy."

Geta's confession hung in the air, heavy with doubt and desperation. He has always been a man of action, of conquests and triumphs, but in this moment, he seemed fragile, vulnerable. Like a king stripped of his armor, exposed and uncertain.

"Shh," you whispered, placing a finger against his lips.

His lips parted slightly at your touch, and for a fleeting instant, you glimpse the lost boy behind the emperor, the son yearning for his mother's love, the husband desperate for his wife's comfort.

"I don't believe that," you said softly, your hand sliding down to cradle his jaw. "The gods adore you, Geta. They've blessed you with power, strength, and a heart capable of great love. If they're withholding something, it's not because of you, but because it's meant for another time."

You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, sharing your conviction, your faith in him. "Shall we try again?" you said, leaving a hot trail of kisses down his jewelled neck

A shuddering sigh escaped him as your lips caress his skin, each kiss igniting sparks under his flesh. His grip on your hips tightening, pulling you flush against him, the hard planes of his body a stark contrast to your softer curves.

"Yes," he rasped, his voice thick with need. "Let us try again. Together."

With that, he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim you, to merge your essence with his own. It's a kiss born of passion, of desperation, of a fierce determination to conceive, to create life amidst the chaos of the imperial court.

As he kissed you, his hands roamed your body, mapping every inch of you, committing your shape to memory.

Your bodies entwined like living vines, twisting and turning until you're pressed against the stone wall, his weight pinning you in place. The heat between you is almost palpable, a living thing that pulses and throbs with every beat of your hearts.

Geta's hands slid beneath your tunic, his calloused palms grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach as he explores the contours of your body. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as if he's rediscovering you anew with each passing moment.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and urgent. "So perfect. I want to worship every inch of you, to show you how much you mean to me."

And then, with a growl of primal need, he tears away your clothing, baring you to his hungry gaze.

As you stand before him, naked and trembling with anticipation, Geta's eyes drink in the sight of you, his gaze a physical touch that sends shivers down your spine. He reaches out, tracing the curve of your breast with a single finger, watching intently as your nipple hardens under his touch.

"You're exquisite," he whispered, his voice a low purr of admiration. "A goddess among mortals."

With that, he lowered his head, capturing your pert nipple between his lips. He suckles gently at first, then with increasing fervour, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hands roam over your body, kneading your flesh, teasing your other nipple into a similar state of arousal.

As he worshipped your breasts, his free hand ventures lower, dipping between your thighs to find the slick heat of your arousal.

Geta groaned into your breast, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through you as he feels the evidence of your desire coating his fingers. He strokes you slowly, deliberately, savouring the feel of your wetness as he continues to lavish attention on your nipples.

"You're so ready for me," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "So eager to take my seed, to bear my children."

With that, he released your breast and steps back, his dark eyes blazing with hunger as he strips off his own garments. His body is a work of art, all chiselled muscle and taut skin, adorned with the symbols of his power- the golden Toric around his neck, the intricate tattoos that cover his arms and torso.

As Geta stepped toward you, his massive erection jutting proudly from his groin, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of him. He towered over you, a dominating presence that fills the room with an aura of raw masculinity.

But despite his intimidating stature, there's a tenderness in his gaze as he looks at you, a vulnerability that speaks to the depth of his feelings for you. In this moment, he's not the ruthless emperor, but a man stripped bare, laying his heart open for you to see.

Without a word, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the ornate bed that dominates one corner of the chamber. The silk sheets were already rumpled, a testament to previous encounters that have left the bed looking invitingly dishevelled.

As Geta layed you down on the plush bed, the cool silk a soothing contrast to the feverish heat of your skin, you can't help but admire the way he moves with deliberate purpose. Every step, every gesture, exudes confidence and control, the hallmarks of a man who is used to getting what he wants.

He followed you onto the bed, his large frame crowding yours as he settles between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, reassuring, as if he's shielding you from the world outside these four walls.

"Geta…" you breathe, reaching up to stroke his face, your fingertips tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Make love to me. Fill me with your seed and let the gods decide our fate."

Your words seem to ignite something within him, a spark of primal desire that consumes them both.

With a guttural growl, Geta claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging deep to stake his claim. His hands roam your body, gripping and kneading, as if trying to brand you with his touch.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin, leaving a trail of red marks in his wake. His teeth graze your collarbone before moving lower to the swell of your breasts.

He took a nipple into his mouth once more, suckling hard as his fingers pinch and roll the other, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through you. All the while, his hips grind against yours, the thick length of his cock rubbing maddeningly against your slick folds.

"Please," you whimpered, arching into him, desperate for more.

Geta released your breast with a wet pop, his chest heaving with exertion and desire. His eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

"I'll give you everything," he vowed, his voice rough with need. "Everything you crave, everything you need."

With that, he thrusted forward, sheathing himself inside you in one powerful stroke. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body stretching to accommodate his girth. But the pain is short-lived, replaced by a wave of pleasure as he begins to move, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm.

Geta set a punishing pace, driving into you again and again, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep within you. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room as he takes you with primal abandon.

As Geta pounded into you, the force of his thrusts causing the bed to rock violently, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you're driven higher and higher on the crest of ecstasy.

The sensation of being filled so completely, of having your deepest depths claimed and conquered, is overwhelming. Each stroke seems to reach further inside you, stroking the very core of your being, until you feel like you might shatter apart at any moment.

"More!" you screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of grunts and moans that fill the room. "Give me more!"

Geta responded with a feral snarl, his movements becoming even more brutal, more frenzied. He leans down to capture your lips in a savage kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives you mercilessly towards the brink of climax.

Geta's kiss turned possessive, claiming your mouth as surely as his body claims yours. His tongue delves deep, tangling with yours in a dance of dominance and desire. The taste of you is intoxicating, fueling his own rising frenzy.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pistons into you with unrelenting intensity. The bed frame creaks ominously, threatening to give way under the force of their coupling.

Suddenly, Geta breaks the kiss, his head thrown back in a roar of triumph as he feels your inner muscles clenching around him.

"Yes!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Take it! Take my cum!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he spills his essence deep within you.

As Geta's hot seed floods your womb, you feel yourself convulsing around him, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your body trembles and writhes beneath him, overwhelmed by the force of your release.

For long moments, you remain locked together, your hearts pounding in tandem as the aftershocks ripple through you. Geta's forehead rests against yours, his breathing ragged as he tries to calm his racing pulse.

Eventually, he pulled out of you, his spent cock slipping free with a wet sound. A trickle of his cum escapes your stretched opening, dripping down your thigh. You lie there, panting and sated, feeling the warmth of his seed inside you.

Geta gathered you close, cradling you against his chest as he stroked your hair. "The Gods have to hear that,"

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

A few days later, you find yourself in the presence of a doctor, carefully examining you.

You finally bared a child, an Heir. All thanks to Lupercalia

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

[lumillsie]

back from my hiatus!!

took a bit of a break to focus on school-related issues, but I'm back and I'm looking forward to writing again <33

I'm opening requests for gladiator, and once I'm done with my masterlist for it, I'll be opening it up for yellowjackets as well !!

feel free to request any of the characters on my masterlist, but I'm prioritising requests for commodus, lucilla and geta

[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.