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averagewriter-inthedark · 11 days ago

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Heaven & Earth 🌍 | Gladiator II Imagine

My Masterlists

Characters & Pairings: Emperor Geta x Empress!reader

Content Warnings: fluff, comfort, depictions of mental illness, mentions of pregnancy, soft!Geta, historical refences and mythology (not completely accurate to the timeline) | female!reader (she/her) like three uses of Y/n | wc: 4.6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: In which the mighty Emperor Geta of Rome becomes the beacon of light pulling his Empress back to Earth when the Gods of Mount Olympus visit her mind in an attempt to beckon her to a place where the Heavens and Earth crash alongside each other.

note: yes this based and inspired by Queen Charlotte and basically the reader has the condition George has. I apologize in advance for any potential mistakes and inaccuracies, I am not an expert or professional in regard to mental conditions please be mindful of that and kind when leaving comments or critique. Thank you.

dilectus meus = "my beloved," in Latin

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“My Emperor!” The shout echoed, bouncing off the palace walls, racing footsteps in its wake as the servant rushed to the man she searched for. Finding him at the end of the corridor with his guards walking as they readied themselves to greet General Acacius upon his return to Rome. “Please, Emperor, a moment of your time!”

Gruffing, irritation painting his visage, Geta pivoted to face the servant, making them come to a freezing stop feet away from where he stood. Out of breath and red in the face from chasing the sovereign. Geta’s gaze turned hard, “What is it? What is so important you have hounded me at a time like this--.”

“Forgive me, your Majesty, it’s the Empress,” the servant was bold to interrupt Geta, but they did so anyway despite the dire consequences. However their intuition was right as they watched the Emperor’s face shift from anger to panic.

It was then Geta realized the servant as the main attendee to his wife. Alba. Who’d been with her since she was still in the care of her father and step-mother. A constant figure in the Empress’ life who saw first hand the torment that plagued Y/n’s mind. Normally Alba was successful in bringing her back to Earth, but her state of duress told Geta it was out of her hands and Y/n needed him.

In a hurry, Geta brushes past her, ordering him to follow and his guards trail closely behind. “When did it start?”

“Only minutes ago. We finished her hair and nearly completed her glamour when I noticed she became silent. I tried calling her back but then she started saying the usual things when this happens.”

“The Gods and Olympus?”

“Yes, Emperor,” Alba confirmed, eyes watering as they approached the chambers. Even after so many years, the suffering of the Empress brought anguish to the maiden. And to her fellow servants, who cared deeply for their Queen. “I cannot place what is responsible for this sudden fit,” her voice drops to a whisper, so only Geta heard her. Yes, the guards close to the Imperial couple had knowledge but still they wished to keep matters private from prying ears.

“Likely the upcoming celebrations of her father’s arrival,” Geta spoke aloud, turning the corner hastily. The doors of his chambers came into view and he heard the gentle voices of his wife’s servants trying to coax her from her state. “Fetch warm milk from the kitchens and honey bread. She’ll need that once I’ve brought her back.”

“Yes, Imperator,” Alba bows her head before turning on her heel to head in the opposite direction toward the kitchens. Geta continues on, passing his wife’s guards who appear in just as distress as the maids as they stand at the doorway. As he enters the chambers, everyone freezes.

His eyes scan the room, his wife nowhere to be found but the doleful expressions of the servants confirmed she was there. Hiding somewhere. The vanity was in disarray, rings scattered across the surface and on the ground, indicating she likely removed them in her fit of stress. Face paint spilled against the smooth marble. The vase full of lilies shattered, leaving water and petals puddled together.

“Where is she?”

The servant pointed to the bed, “underneath, my Imperator. She refuses to come out.”

With a wave of a hand, Geta orders, “Leave us.” And like birds flocking in the sky, the servants and maids ushered out of the chambers. The guards posting themselves outside after closing the door with a loud *click*

Now standing alone in his chambers, away from the eyes of his staff, Geta relaxes his shoulders with an exhale. Mentally preparing himself as his attention turned toward the grand bed where the sound of heavy panting filled his ears.

“Darling?” he calls out softly, feet carrying him to his side of the bed. Upon hearing her shaken, “yes,” Geta kneels himself onto the rug, lifting the sham to peek underneath the bed, where he finds his beloved wife laying on the feathered rug covering the wooden floors.

Geta’s heart tightened at her state. Body stiff as the statues that adorned the palace grounds. Eyes wide and fearful, lips quivering as she attempts to calm her breathing. Chest heaving at a fast pace, thankfully slowing by the second. Beads of sweat on her forehead, glistening against the golden headpiece the servants had managed to place atop when they finished styling her hair. The makeup beneath her eyes smudged from the tears cascading her cheeks. Face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Geta wanted nothing more than to remove the distress from his wife and free her from the storm her mind bestowed on her.

A ball of black fur was nestled against the Empress’ side. Ears peeking up followed by bright green eyes, revealing her beloved cat Nox. The animal was a gift to her on their wedding day to assist her when times like these occurred. A companion for when Geta was occupied.

“It’s been quite some time since this happened,” he muses, tucking the sham into the mattress so his view is not obscured, never taking his eyes away from her as he removes his flowing cape, discarding it on top of the bed. “The last was before we were gifted the babe growing in your womb.” He peeked down to see the slight swell of her stomach protruding against the fabric of her dress.

“I--I’m so sorry,” her voice croaks, sniffing as she fights to hold back another wave of tears. “I do not know--know why today this--.”

Geta shushes her, a whimper leaving her mouth, thinking she displeased him. Refusing to look at the man, Y/n hears shuffling and from her peripheral catches her husband lay his back on the rug before scooting beneath the bed. Inch by inch until he finally reached her side. The warmth of his hand radiated against her palm as he took it in his. Softly stroking the bare knuckles lacking rings. The loving gesture a means to bring comfort.

“The Gods visited you, my darling?”

Her breathing finally calms down at the gentleness in his voice, swallowing the saliva that formed in her throat. Still, she stares at the wood above her, unable to meet his gaze. “Mars--Mars and Venus--they watched from the shadows. Juno stood--stood behind me in the mirror. I--I willed them to leave, to not bother me on a day like this--but they refused, saying I was to follow them home.” shuddering, the Empress squeezes her eyes shut, the darkness welcoming with open arms. “I did not wish to make a spectacle, husband. Especially today with all that’s been prepared. Forgive me, please.”

“There is nothing to forgive, love.” Geta assures her, lifting the hand he clutched to cradle against his chest. Letting her feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. “Just focus on my voice and my heart. Let me guide you as you return from your journey to Olympus. Our little one needs you to be calm, my love.”

And so the rulers of Rome laid beneath their bed for what felt like hours until the Empress fully rejoined her husband back on Earth. All the while Geta stroked the hand perched on his chest, bringing it up periodically to kiss her fingertips and whisper words of love and affirmation into her skin.

His thoughts drifted to the past when he felt her relax. To when he first met the woman who captured his soul and would become his Empress. Stunning the court as Geta had never planned to marry and simply enjoyed the pleasures being the Emperor afforded.

It was an accident. The two were never supposed to meet. For she never attended public events at the palace with her father, the esteemed General of Rome, Marcus Acacius and her step-mother, Lucilla, the adored daughter of former Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Their daughter was a mere mystery, hardly anyone besides close members of the Senate had knowledge of the woman.

The origin of her condition was also a mystery. Marcus' first wife, Y/n’s mother, passed during childbirth leaving the General to raise her on his own. She was mostly in the care of maids and servants when he was off to fight Rome’s wars, therefore Marcus did not know what shadowed his beloved daughter's mind until he witnessed an episode himself shortly after her seventh birthday. That’s when her primary caretaker, an older woman by the name of Daphne, confessed to the General the fits began two years prior.

Most men would be ashamed. Might go as far as to send their child away. Disowning them to be left to the bloody wolves of the world and to not dare claim their sire’s name furthermore. For a child who lived between the Heavens and the Earth was unheard of. Who’s state of mind would relinquish them from any sustainable future.

But General Acacius was not that man. His daughter was his life, and the memory of his wife whom he adored. It would be the ultimate sin to discard the child as though she were the dirt beneath his feet. His late wife would drag him to the Underworld herself should he dare.

No, General Acacius vowed to protect and love his daughter the moment she entered the world. He would uphold it until his last breath.

He only let the best of the best care for the girl. Paying them an Emperors wager to ensure her needs were met and she felt safe in the walls of her home. To bring her back to Earth when the Gods of Olympus called to her and he was unable to return her himself. By the time she reached the age of ten and Marcus remarried Lucilla, he and the staff realized her fits were brought upon by stress and situations that unnerved the girl.

Y/n was granted freedoms with few restrictions. She was tutored with the best education provided, allowed to roam the gardens, have animal companions, and interact with the children of Acacius’ colleagues when they visited the home. Daphne close to her, the older woman knowing when to step in and remove the girl as the features on her face would consort and she’d stare off into the distance momentarily before the flood of emotions consumed her.

After Daphne passed, Alba entered the picture. And she, Marcus, and Lucilla were the only three able to pull the young woman from the Heavens. Until she met Geta.

It was a spur of the moment decision. Marcus and Lucilla were summoned to the palace to attend a feast celebrating the founding of Rome. He himself had dismissed his staff to allow them to enjoy the festivities the night held. And he could not leave his daughter alone, but there was no one to watch her while they were gone. In the end, it was Lucilla who convinced Marcus to allow her to accompany them to the palace. For she had not endured an episode in months since her nineteenth name day and it would do well for her to be exposed to their peers. Not to mention she’d be beside them the entire time, and they’d depart immediately if she became overwhelmed.

Marcus had no issue until it came time for them to greet the Emperors. Geta and Caracalla seated in their thrones, flanked by their companions who fed them grapes and produced goblets of wine. He witnessed with his own eyes the sudden shift in demeanor from Emperor Geta when his gaze landed on the young woman. His bored expression consorting to one of intrigue and interest. Flooding the general with uncertainty.

He continued to find Geta seeking his daughter throughout the night. Observing her from afar or purposefully conversing with guests in their proximity. Not hiding the way his brown eyes flickered to her in an attempt to lock their stares. Then Marcus discovered the two talking by the feast table, Lucilla having been pulled into a conversation by a Senator allowing Geta to swoop in and steal the young woman’s attention.

Marcus did not miss the way his daughter’s face lit up. In awe of the man before her and completely immersed in whatever it was they were talking about. Geta too, possessed an expression no man had ever seen before. As though he was in the presence of a Goddess.

And when Geta summoned Marcus at the end of the feast with his intentions, the General cursed the Gods for putting him in a position that would threaten his daughters livelihood. The decision determined her fate.

“You deny me, Acacius,” Geta sneered, anger penetrating his tone and visage. “I have proposed to you the gift of a lifetime. I desire to make your daughter my Empress, and you dare voice opposition!?”

Calm and collected, the General simply bows his head before saying, “Emperor Geta, any man would be thanking the Gods for this generous offer, but it is my daughter’s well being I put above all else in this world.” Of course he was not blind to the gruesome reputation Geta and his brother had developed. Bloodthirsty rulers who enjoyed making spectacles of their enemies. No stranger to the violence they enjoyed from Glatorial battles. He’d be damned to let his precious daughter marry a man who’d expose her to distressing events that’ll trigger her.

“You’re foolish to even think for a moment this was anything but an order.”

Now that was what Marcus was afraid of. That Geta had already made up his mind and wasn’t asking for permission to marry Y/n…. he was announcing his intent to marry her.

“My Emperor,” Marcus pleaded, “I cannot let you decide this without informing you of my daughter’s condition. And I ask for you to reconsider to allow her the freedom of scrutiny from the people of Rome.”

Geta’s head tilts, confusion painting his form, “Condition?”

Marcus takes a deep breath, feeling the pounding of his heart against his chest. Praying to the Gods for mercy for his daughter should the emperor deem it necessary to exile her. “From time to time, my daughter experiences these episodes that overtake her state of mind.” Geta’s expression shifts, like he understood what the general implied considering his brother also experienced fits. “It’s happened since she was a child. Often triggered by stress or when overwhelmed and usually lasts minutes,” he explains with a shaky exhale, “It is as though her mind lives between the Heavens and the Earth. Where our Gods visit her, beckoning her to come with them to Olympus. Once she’s pulled away it is difficult to return her back to herself as she’s consumed by the emotional distress. My wife, her caretaker, and myself are the ones able to draw her back when her mind is elsewhere.” Licking his lips, eyes trailing to the floor, Marcus finishes by saying, “it is why I’ve never brought her to these functions till tonight. She needs stability, she needs peace. And forgive me, my Imperator, for speaking freely but marrying her to you frightens me for what she may experience without us there to care for her.”

Any man would be warded off at the revelation, but Geta was not deterred. He maintained his proposal, for he was smitten by the beautiful maiden that waltzed into his palace and tore down the marble walls he built around his soul. She was a breath of life in the otherwise dreadful environment surrounding him. He would prove Acacius wrong, and stand by his beloved during her times of need.

Returning her to Earth when the Gods come to take her.

In the month leading to the Royal wedding during their courtship, the soon to be Empress moved into her own private chambers in preparation to assimilate to the life ahead of her. Geta showered her with gifts and anything she dreamed of having. Chocolates and wine, jewels and gold. Their love blossomed with each passing day.

The first time the Emperor witnessed her experience a visit from the Gods, Geta wished nothing more than to switch places. He’d approached her chamber door to wish her goodnight when the commotion raging inside filled his ears. The guards posted in front of the doors stiffening at the sight of him. Hesitating to open the doors when he ordered, but when they did Geta entered to find his beloved pacing hastily. Her hair in wild disarray, indicating they’d just taken out the braids when the episode occurred, and robes untied leaving her sheer nightgown to the naked eye.

Geta saw her lips moving at a fast pace, spilling out incorrigible words jumbled together. Eyes blinking a mile per minute, and hands trembling as she spoke to a presence they could not see. It broke his heart to see her in such distress. Wishing nothing more than to free her from the torment that plagued her.

Her head-maiden/caretaker Alba pleaded with tears in her eyes for her to return home while the other servants observed with sorrow. “My Lady, focus on my voice. You are safe. You are loved. You are home. Order them away and return to us, sweet lady.”

Eventually, and a shock to those in attendance, Geta was the one to calm his beloved and return her to him. Attending to her with care no one expected the Emperor to possess. Then again, it was rare for onlookers to witness him calm his brother when he had an episode.

When the woman finally steadied her breathing, she broke down into a heap of sobs into Geta’s chest. The Emperor winding his arms around her figure to shield her from the world, murmuring sweet nothings against the crown of her head. Only lifting his head once to order the servants out to grant them privacy, but not before ordering Alba to retrieve warm milk and honey bread for his beloved.

That night they had their first argument. Y/n begging Geta to withdraw his proposal and let her return to her parents. So that she would not be a burden to him and an embarrassment to Rome. He deserved a better wife. One that will be an image of Venus as Empress of Rome, who would not curse his line with a condition that pulled them away from Earth. Geta refused, confessing his love for her and that he would never be able to find a woman to capture his mind, body, and soul like she has done.

“Look at me!” she pushed away from his hold, tear streaks smudging her makeup and hair an untamed mane. “I am unwell! My mind cannot place where I am--it is like the Heavens and the Earth collide--!” She takes her fingertips to her temples, the tears flowing like a waterfall. “The Gods--the Gods pry me from the ground--they take me away! I cannot subject you to a life of worry that I’ll have a fit in the middle of a Senate meeting or in front of the people. They will tell you to rid yourself of me--to take a new wife and return me to my father. Why wait when you can do that now and save yourself the shame--!”

Geta grasped her hands in his, pulling them to his chest so she felt the beat of his heart against her palms. The steady rhythm grounding her as his brown eyes penetrated her own with intensity. “Listen to me,” He demands with firmness, but not the type to frighten her. “I do not care what the Senate--or anyone of Rome thinks, you are what matters to me. No one will ever amount to the light you’ve awakened in me. Gods be damned, I will not let anyone take you away.” He keeps one hand clutching hers, the other moving to cup her cheek. “I will stand with you between the Heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are.”

They were married the next morning, neither waiting to swear themselves to the other beneath the Gods and before the people of Rome. General Acacius gave his daughter away, watching with glistening eyes as he witnessed the two souls entwine. Lucilla not shying from her emotion, dabbing the tears that fell with a handkerchief. Emperor Caracalla looked on with a neutral expression, not rejoicing but not averse either.

The Royal couple trotted the streets of Rome in the carriage, waving to the people who cheered and threw rice and flowers their way. Blessing their new Empress and thanking the Gods for her. Geta held onto her hand the entire journey, pressing soft kisses to the skin to remind her of his presence whenever he caught beginning to dissociate. Pulling her from the Gods before they had the chance to take her.

Months later, following a delightful honeymoon, the Empress experienced another difficult episode when she was delivered massive news from the Royal physician. Geta was attending a Senate meeting when a guard approached him, immediately departing when told his wife was indisposed.

“What brought this on,” he commanded the servant walking with him, who’d been the one to pass the message to his guard.

“She did not digest her morning meal, my Imperator,” they explained with a stutter, “and has been plagued with fatigue the last several days that she ordered the physician to examine her.” Worry etched Geta’s face, picking up the pace that the servant was practically running beside him. “Forgive me for informing you of this--for I know the Empress would rather be the one, but she is with child and we suspect this fit is a result of the news.”

Geta freezes, the air catching in his throat as his brain processes what was just bestowed to him. Warmth fills his chest, and before he knows it a tender smile graces his features. A stunning sight to those around him.

His wife was with child. He was going to be a father.

Suddenly Geta remembered where he was and who needed him. Shaking his head as he hurriedly walked down the corridors to their shared chambers. He orders the servant to the kitchens for warm milk and honey bread, the guards taking their place outside the room while he enters on his own. There he finds Alba alone by the doors of the balcony, a gentle expression on her face looking at something on the floor. While his wife’s cat, Nox, perches himself on the nightstand.

“Where is she? They said she was in here.” Geta questioned, panic in his eyes that he could not see his wife. The panic turns into worry when Alba points to the bed.

“She’s laying underneath,” she tells him with a frown.

Geta rushes over, kneeling down to lift the shame, face dropping when he discovers Y/n shivering on the fur rug laid beneath the bed. Wet cheeks and chest panting up and down as she catches her breath. Glancing up, he waves a hand to Alba as a gesture for her to leave them. The maid bows, closing the chamber doors on her way out.

“My darling, why are you under the bed?”

“The Gods, they--they cannot find me here,” she croaks, staring blankly at the wood as the voices drown out to muffles and the stars leave her vision. “It’s quiet under here.”

Laying on his back, Geta shuffles onto the rug to the space beside his wife. Reaching for her hand when he gets comfortable. “You are right, my dear. It is rather quiet,” her skin is soft under the thumbs stroking her knuckles. “Very peaceful if I must say.”

“Please accept my apologies, husband,” she sniffs, free hand wiping at her face. “I did not think they’d remove you from your meeting.”

“Forget the meeting. It was tiresome and if I’m honest I was planning to leave anyway right as my guard approached me.” Her light chuckle relieved him, the emperor turning his head to stare at her side profile. Taking in her beautiful face as though she would vanish from thin air and leave him. “What ails you, my love? What did the Gods want today?”

The Empress’ bottom lip quivered, making his heart sting as he felt her pain. “The physician told me something,” another sniff leaves her, followed by a lone tear. “I’m with child, Geta. And I know I should be overjoyed, thanking the Gods for this gift and celebrating with you--.” she tilts her head away from the bed frame, facing him instead and allowing the emotion to release. “But I am afraid. I fear for our child--that they will endure the same as me and I cannot fathom it.”

Geta leans over, cupping her cheek with the hand not holding hers and stares deeply into her eyes. “Look at me. No matter what happens, whether our child is touched by the Gods or not, we will stand and take this passage of the unknown together. They will be safe and loved, with you as their mother protecting them. No God will pull them from Earth, we will tell them where they are. Understand?”

The Empress nods, bottom lip jutted out like a child in need as the tears leaked from her eyes. Geta tilts her jaw up, bringing her mouth to his in a sweet kiss to seal his vow and remind her of his devotion. They remain beneath the bed for a few minutes until she’s calm, Geta pressing loving kisses to her nose, cheeks, forehead, and lips. His hand moved to her stomach, caressing the silk clad skin where their child grew. Conceived of their love.

The birth of twins Marcus and Marcella brought celebration to Rome. Citizens crowded the gates of the palace with gifts, games in the colosseum held in their honor. Followed by the anniversary of the Royal couple where the golden statue of the Empress was unveiled. Every night Geta held her after tucking in their children, murmuring words of affirmation to lull her to sleep.

Time went on and her visit from the Gods became distant. Sometimes brought on by the worry of her father at war or the state of the Empire. Then after the twins second name day they were blessed with the news they were with child once more.

Now here they were beneath the bed of their Royal chamber months later, Emperor Geta of Rome consoling his beloved wife as he guided her back to Earth. The babe nestled in her womb grew while their twins slept soundly in their nursery until it was time to wake them. Her father had likely arrived at the palace by now and Caracalla was waiting for them to appear so they may greet Acacius together.

But Geta would not leave their bedroom floor until his Empress was ready. Till the Gods left her alone.

“Thank you,” her voice brought him out of his thoughts, gaze lifting to find the eyes he adored staring back at him with absolute tenderness. Glistening against the speck of light able to reach them. The Empress conveyed all the love in her tone as she spoke, “Thank you for standing with me. For always telling me where I am.” Warmth erupted in his chest, Geta never breaking eye contact as he brought her hand to his mouth, his own eyes glistening.

“I will fight for you until my last breath. I love you, dilectus meus.”

#emperor geta imagine #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta x empress!reader #empress!reader #gladiator ii fanfiction #gladiator ii imagine #gladiator 2 #Spotify

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ho-for-joequinn-fics · 26 days ago

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Thank you @myherometalhead for this perfect masterlist edit! 🥹🖤

18+ only! Minors DNI with this masterlist, my fics, or my blog! You WILL be blocked!

I don’t anticipate writing more fics on here since my main focus is my older Eddie series over on my main blog, but I just wanted what I have already written to be easily accessible. Emperor Geta is all I’ve written for 🖤

The Emperor’s Angel 🥵

Servant Turned Empress 🥵

Rage, Ropes, and Release 🥵

Display of Death 🥵

You Are Worth It 🥵

Geta Bloody Geta 🥵

If I do end up writing more Geta fics in a spur of the moment situation, then I will add them to the masterlist as I go 🖤

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x f!reader #emperor geta x general acacius!daughter #emperor geta x senators!daughter #emperor geta x empress!reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta smut #emperor geta #gladiator 2 #gladiator II

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stylesispunk · 7 days ago

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'The soldier in the armour'

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

summary: Lucilla arranged a wedding between you and General Acacius to protect you from Emperor Geta. Acacius doesn't love you but he has swore to protect you.

w.c: 12k>

warnings: power imbalance, age gap, arranged marriage, creep man, suicide attempt, smut, fluff, and angst.

a/n: this is a mix of two requests! I lost one of the requests in my asks so if you see it, please feel free to yell at me haha there is it! 😭 I wanted to say sorry for taking so long on this, but I made the choice to mix both because I didn't have the time to write separately and I didn't want to make you wait anymore, don't hate me, please.

| dividers by @/saradika-graphics |

There were blurry reminiscent of the life you once had. It wasn’t very different from the one you had now, but it wasn’t the same either.

The empire seemed at peace back in the day, the sun caressed your skin with the tenderness of a loving mother touch, but now it burnt your skin as if you had been set in a fire.

You remembered your grandfather death.

You recalled your uncle’s death in the arena.

Maximus death, and with him the dream of Rome died, swapping the peace of the empire away.

You recalled a brother. He was your twin, and you remembered loving him.

Lucius.

Your mother had sent him away under sacred protection, with Comodous’s death, he was the next emperor in line.

But you had stay here. After all you were a woman and your blood didn’t have the value running through your veins.

You had been forced to live with the faded memories of Lucius's blue eyes, those that mirrored your own somehow, the ones that used to gleam with the particular mischief of a kid. Now, they haunted your dreams like ghosts, a reminder of the bond torn apart by politics and promises of protection.

Each day in the palace felt like a gilded cage rusted by the passage of time, where the air was thick with deceit, and every word spoken seemed laced with hidden agendas. Emperor Geta’s obsession with you had made life unbearable. His attention was suffocating, his gaze lingering too long, his presence a constant reminder of your vulnerability as a woman in the imperial court.

Under his and his brother rules.

And when your mother and the council proposed your marriage to General Acacius, you had resisted. Marriage was meant to be a union of love, not a transaction of protection. That what you were told by her when you were a kid. Yet, as Geta’s obsession grew more unhinged, and whispers of his plans to claim you as his own wife reached your ears, you knew there was no choice.

Lucilla braided your hair, the same way she had been doing it since you were a kid. Her touch was gentle, but her face displayed her worry. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the occasional quiver in her fingers spoke of the weight they carried on her hands, not just as your mother but as a woman who had maneuvered through the treacherous politics of the empire her entire life.

"My sweet girl," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know this is not the life you would have chosen. If I could take your pain and bear it myself, I would."

You turned to look at her, meeting her gaze through the reflection in the mirror. Her eyes, though still fierce, carried a shadow of regret that seemed etched into her very soul. For a moment, you weren’t the daughter of a woman which fate as empress, had been stolen, you were just a child looking for comfort in your mother’s arms.

"But you can’t," you said, your voice trembling as you tried to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. "You sent Lucius away, and you kept me here. You say it’s for my protection, but sometimes it feels like I’ve been sacrificed for a safety it’s not real.”

Lucilla’s hands paused in your hair. Her reflection in the mirror faltered, the weight of your words cutting deep. "I sent Lucius away because he was a target," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I thought once he was older enough, one day he would reclaim what is rightfully his. But you... I couldn’t send you away, too. I couldn’t lose both of you."

"Instead, you bound me to this place," you said, unable to stop the bitterness in your tone. "To a life I didn’t choose, to a marriage that will feel like another cage."

Lucilla moved to face you, her hands resting on your shoulders. "Acacius is a good man," she said firmly. "He may not have been the man of your dreams, but he is a man who will protect you. And I swear to you, I chose him because I saw something in him. Something that told me he would be more than just a shield for you”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and you didn’t respond. Deep down, you knew she believed she was doing the right thing, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less sharp.

“I wish I was dead” you whispered to yourself only.

The wedding day arrived cloaked in grandeur, yet it felt suffocatingly hollow. The palace was adorned with gold and crimson, every corner lit by the soft glow of countless lamps. Musicians played melodies meant to celebrate unity, but their music tortured your aching heart. Guests gathered in their finery; faces painted with polite smiles masking their true thoughts. You stood at the heart of it all, draped in a gown of ivory silk embroidered with golden threads, a symbol of wealth and duty, not love.

As you walked towards Acacius, flanked by your mother, the room blurred, as if it wasn’t truly real. The man awaiting you at the altar stood tall and composed, his features carved from stone. Acacius wore a ceremonial armor, the white and gold catching the light, but his expression was unreadable. His eyes met yours, steady and unyielding, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered what he truly thought of all this.

The vows were spoken. His voice was deep, calm, and detached. When he slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch was light, almost hesitant. There was no tenderness, no sign of warmth. Only duty. The ceremony ended with applause that echoed in the vast chamber, but the sound felt distant. You were bound now, not by love, but by necessity.

Emperor Geta would stop his courting towards you.

Later that evening, you found yourself alone with him in your new chambers. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the walls. You sat at the edge of the bed, your hands folded tightly in your lap, while Acacius stood near the window, his back to you. He seemed restless, as if the weight of his armor had been replaced by the burden of this union.

"You don’t have to speak to me if you don’t wish to," you said quietly, breaking the silence. Your voice was steadier than you expected, though your heart raced. "I know this wasn’t your choice any more than it was mine."

He turned then, his gaze settling on you. For a moment, his cold exterior softened, though only slightly. "It wasn’t," he admitted, his tone measured, as if he were weighing every word. "But it was necessary. Your mother asked me."

His honesty stung, even if it wasn’t unexpected. You nodded, unable to meet his eyes. "My mother,” you echoed, her title feeling heavy in your mouth.

Acacius sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the movement breaking his usual composed demeanor. "This isn’t what I imagined for my life either," he said, his voice quieter now. "But I’ve sworn to protect you, and I will. Even if this arrangement feels..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Unnatural."

"Unnatural," you repeated with a bitter smile. "What a lovely way to describe a marriage."

His jaw tightened at your sarcasm, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he crossed the room, stopping a few steps away from you. His presence was imposing, yet his movements were deliberate, careful, as if he were afraid of overwhelming you.

"I will do my duty," he said finally, his voice firm but not unkind. "And I will honor you as my wife. But I can’t pretend to feel something that isn’t there.”

His words were a knife, cutting through the fragile hope you hadn’t even realized you’d been clinging to. You swallowed hard and nodded, keeping your gaze fixed on your hands.

"If you need anything, you only have to ask. I’ll be in my chambers." he said. And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the vast, empty room.

That night, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the weight of your new reality pressing down on you. Acacius’s words echoed in your mind, and though they weren’t cruel, they felt colder than any rejection. You couldn’t blame him, not really. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You wished you could close your eyes and be anywhere else. In the gardens with your brother, in the safety of Lucius’s protection, or even in the quiet stillness of a life unbound by imperial chains. But instead, you were here, in this gilded cage, with a husband who was as much a stranger as the walls around you.

The following days were a blur of formality and silence. Acacius remained distant but civil, his actions guided more by duty than emotion. He escorted you through the palace when required, his hand resting lightly on your arm but never lingering. At meals, he was polite, engaging in conversations when prompted but offering little more than what was necessary. You were a pair in appearance, but the gulf between you was undeniable.

Lucilla watched it all silently. She offered no commentary, but her concerned glances betrayed her thoughts. Her belief that Acacius was the right choice remained unwavering, yet even she couldn’t deny the strain in your union.

One evening, after the day’s obligations had ended, you returned to your chambers to find Acacius standing by the window. He was in his tunic, having removed the heavy armor that seemed to weigh him down as much as the marriage itself. His posture was stiff, his shoulders tense as he gazed out into the fading light of dusk.

“Do you regret this?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. The question had been clawing at you for days, and you couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer.

Acacius turned to you; his expression unreadable. “Regret isn’t the right word,” he said after a pause. “This wasn’t what I wanted, but it’s the path I’ve chosen. I will honor it.”

You crossed the room, stopping a few paces from him. “You speak of honor as if it’s enough to make this work,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But what about us? Are we just to coexist in silence, fulfilling obligations without ever truly living?”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, his cold demeanor cracked. “Do you think this is easy for me?” he asked, his tone sharper than you expected. “I didn’t ask for this any more than you did. But I’m trying. I’m doing everything I can to give you the life you deserve.”

“The life I deserve?” you echoed, anger bubbling to the surface. “I deserve a life where I’m not a pawn, where my choices matter. I deserve a marriage built on something more than duty.”

Acacius looked away, his jaw tightening. “And yet, here we are,” he said quietly. “Bound by something neither of us chose.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating. You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“I know,” Acacius said, his voice softening. You felt his presence behind you, and a moment later, his hand rested lightly on your shoulder. “I can’t change what brought us here, but I can promise you this; I will protect you. Always.”

“Why do you don’t like me as a person?” you asked, unable to meet his gaze

Acacius’s hand froze on your shoulder, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. The weight of your words hung in the air; unspoken questions laced with vulnerability. Slowly, you turned to face him, your arms still wrapped around yourself as if shielding your heart from the answer you feared.

“Why don’t you like me as a person?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “Is it because you didn’t choose this? Because I’m nothing more than an obligation to you?”

Acacius’s jaw tightened, his eyes searching yours as if debating whether to speak the truth or spare you further pain. Finally, he exhaled deeply, stepping back to create some space between you. His hand fell to his side, the warmth of his touch fading.

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” he began, his voice low and measured, as if choosing his words with care. “You’re intelligent, strong-willed, and far braver than anyone gives you credit for. But... this isn’t about you. It never was.”

Your stomach twisted, the pit forming at his words. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned away, running a hand through his dark hair as he stared out of the window. “Your mother,” he said finally, the words falling like stones. “I... I loved her.”

The breath caught in your throat, your chest tightening as if the room had suddenly closed in on you. “What?” you managed to choke out, disbelief coloring your tone.

Acacius turned back to you, his expression a mixture of regret and resignation. “Lucilla. I loved her long before any of this. Long before Commodus fell, before your world became this mess of alliances and power struggles. But she...” He hesitated, his gaze softening.

“Asked you to marry her daughter because of Geta’s courtesy” you ended his sentence. You felt disgusted by his confession and guilty for destroying the chances of your mother and Lucilla of being happy together.

Acacius's eyes widened slightly at your words, but he didn’t deny them. Instead, he looked at you with a mixture of shame and helplessness, as though he carried the weight of his choices like chains he could never cast off. “It was more than just Geta,” he said quietly. “Lucilla believed—she hoped—that this union would keep you safe from him. And I thought... I thought I could do that for her.”

You stepped back, your heart pounding. The walls of the room seemed to close in, suffocating you under the weight of his confession. “And in doing so, you destroyed any chance you both might have had for happiness,” you said, your voice trembling. “Because of you, she sacrificed everything—for what? To tie me to a man who doesn’t even want me.”

“Hey,” Acacius said quickly, stepping closer, but you held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice breaking. “Don’t try to justify it. You will never love me, and now I know why. Because all you see in me is her shadow.”

“No.” His voice was firm now, his eyes blazing with an intensity that startled you. “You’re wrong. I never wanted this to be about her, and I never wanted you to think I see you as anything less than who you are. But I can’t bury my feelings, and I can’t undo the choices we made.”

Your stomach churned with anger, disgust and despair. “Do you even realize what you’ve done?” you demanded. “You’ve tied me to a life I never wanted, a life where I’ll always wonder if I was just a piece in someone else’s plan. I’m always trapped in the middle of something.”

The tears you had been holding back finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks as sobs wracked your body. The weight of Acacius’s confession, of everything you had endured, crushed you, and the walls of the room seemed to close in around you.

“I can’t do this,” you said, your voice trembling, thick with emotion. “I can’t stay here.”

“Please,” Acacius began, his tone urgent as he stepped toward you, his hand outstretched. But you recoiled, shaking your head fiercely.

“Don’t!” you cried, your voice cracking. “Don’t come near me! Don’t tell me it’s going to be okay when nothing ever is. You’re just another person who’s used me, another person who doesn’t see me.”

The rawness of your words hung in the air, and for a moment, Acacius froze, his face etched with a mixture of pain and helplessness. But you couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The walls of the room blurred as your tears continued to fall, and you turned abruptly, your feet moving before your mind could catch up.

You fled the room, your sobs echoing in the empty corridors as you ran blindly through the villa. Servants and guards turned to look at you, startled by the sight of their lady in such distress, but you ignored them. You needed to get away, away from Acacius, away from the suffocating weight of expectations, away from everything.

Eventually, you found yourself in the gardens, the cool night air biting at your skin. The sky above was scattered with stars, their distant light doing little to ease the turmoil within you. You collapsed onto a stone bench, your arms wrapping around yourself as you cried, the sound of your grief swallowed by the rustling of the trees.

You had tried so hard to find a place in this world, to make peace with the life forced upon you. But tonight, every fragile piece of that illusion had shattered, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and pain.

As your sobs subsided, a cold breeze swept through the garden, chilling you to the bone. For a brief moment, you thought of Acacius, of the way his eyes had softened when he spoke, of the regret laced in his voice.

But the anger and betrayal still burned too brightly within you to let those thoughts linger.

The cool night air stung your cheeks as you sprinted through the gardens, past the rows of manicured hedges and marble statues. The villa loomed behind you, its walls suffocating even at a distance. Your lungs burned, your heart hammering against your ribs, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You didn’t know where you were going—only that it had to be far away from Acacius, from the weight of his confession, from the life you no longer recognized as your own.

Your feet carried you to the outer grounds of the villa, where the shadows grew darker, the torchlight dimmer. The muffled sound of distant voices reached your ears, guards patrolling the perimeter, but you veered away from them, toward the narrow dirt path that led to the forest. The trees ahead beckoned like a sanctuary, their darkness promising solitude.

You barely noticed the snap of a twig behind you until a voice cut through the silence.

Before you could gather your thoughts, you heard soft footsteps approaching once more. Your heart lurched. "Acacius?" you called out tentatively, but when the figure stepped into the moonlight, your breath caught.

It wasn’t Acacius.

It was Geta.

He stood there, his face shadowed yet unmistakably troubled. The smugness on his face was characteristic but still you couldn’t name his expression you couldn’t place what he was feeling, desperation? Anguish? The way his chest rose and fell told you he’d been running, as if chasing you had been his sole purpose.

“Emperor Geta? wha-what are you doing here?” you demanded, your voice shaking, not with fear but with a volatile mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

“I was on my way to pay a visit to our beloved General” he answered, his sinister smile still on his face, "I must admit," he said, stepping closer, his tone dripping with false amusement, "I didn’t expect to find you wandering out here all alone. What would dear Acacius think, hmm? Leaving his precious wife unguarded in the dead of night?"

Your heart pounded harder now, but for an entirely different reason.

Geta took another step toward you, and you fought the urge to recoil. The air between you felt suffocating, charged with a tension that made your skin crawl.

"You’re drunk, emperor" you said sharply, hoping to mask the fear creeping into your voice. "Go back to the palace, Geta.”

But he only laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "Oh, I’m perfectly sober," he said, his eyes narrowing. "And I think it’s time we had a little... talk, you and I.”

“What more could you possibly want from me, Emperor?”

His eyes met yours, and for the first time, they weren’t cold or calculating. They were raw, bare, and filled with an emotion that made your stomach churn.

“You,” he said, the word barely above a whisper.

Your blood froze. “What?”

“I’ve loved you,” he said, his voice trembling. “For as long as I can remember. And I’ve hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop. Not even when I tried to keep my distance. Not even when I told myself it was wrong.”

The ground seemed to shift beneath your feet. This was a nightmare—a fever dream born of the turmoil of the night. It had to be.

“No,” you said, shaking your head vehemently. “No, you can’t—you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer, though he didn’t reach for you. “I’ve tried to bury it; to pretend I could be the dutiful emperor everyone thought I was. But every time I see you, every time I hear your voice...” He broke off, his hands clenching into fists. “It is like I am set on fire.”

“I—” you started, but words failed you.

Geta took another step forward, his desperation palpable. “Do you see now?” he asked, his voice softer but no less intense. “I’ve only ever seen you as mine.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice trembling as you raised a hand to keep him at bay. “Just stop. Whatever you think this is, whatever you feel—it’s wrong.”

He froze at your words, his face twisting with a mixture of pain and defiance. “Wrong?” he repeated, his voice cracking. “How can it be wrong when it’s the only thing I’ve ever been certain of?”

“Because I don’t feel the same!” you shouted, your tears spilling over now. “I will never feel the same. I’m married.”

Geta flinched at your words as though you’d struck him. His face, already a storm of emotions, darkened further. “Married,” he spat, his voice low and bitter. “To a man who will never truly see you. A man who cannot love you the way I do.”

Your chest tightened as anger began to bubble within you, momentarily overpowering the fear and confusion. “Love?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “This isn’t love, Geta. Whatever you think this is, it’s twisted. You’ve turned me into some...some object to claim, a possession to own!”

His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I have done nothing but love you,” he said through gritted teeth. “When no one else cared about your happiness, when they made you a pawn in their schemes, I thought of you. Always.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?” you demanded, stepping forward despite yourself. “Why didn’t you, with all your power, say something? Do something? If you loved me so much, why didn’t you fight for me?”

Geta’s gaze faltered for the briefest moment, a crack in his otherwise unyielding façade. “Because I couldn’t,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “Because to love you openly would have been to destroy you. You think I don’t know how they look at me? How they whisper? They already call me unfit to rule, unstable. If they knew how I felt, they would have turned their wrath on you.”

“That’s not love,” you said, shaking your head, your voice breaking. “Love doesn’t hide in shadows. It doesn’t tear someone apart from the inside. It doesn’t...” You trailed off, pressing a trembling hand to your mouth as sobs threatened to escape. “It doesn’t feel like this.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves in the night wind.

“I didn’t want this,” Geta finally said, his voice almost a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you. But watching you with him, knowing you’re his...” His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “It’s killing me.”

“I’m not yours,” you said firmly, the words sharper than you intended. “I’ll never be yours.”

Geta’s face hardened at that, the softness of his confession replaced by something colder, more dangerous. “We’ll see,” he said quietly, his tone chilling in its calmness. “The gods have a way of changing fates”

The sound of hooves pounding the earth broke through the tension that had built between you and Geta. The rhythmic thundering grew louder, and you instinctively turned toward the noise, your heart racing in your chest.

Acacius appeared from the shadows, his silhouette cutting through the night as he rode forward, leading a group of horses. His eyes immediately locked on you, and in an instant, his expression shifted—darkening, as though a storm had formed within him. When his gaze flicked to Geta, the atmosphere around them changed.

Geta remained still, but his eyes narrowed. He knew exactly who had arrived. A low tension crackled in the air, like two opposing forces on the verge of collision.

“Emperor Geta,” Acacius said sharply, his voice hard, his stance unwavering. His hand instinctively tightened on the reins of his horse as if it were a weapon, a subtle warning. “It is too late for you to be out in the middle of the night”

For a moment, Geta didn't respond. The intensity of his stare met Acacius’ head-on, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. But Acacius didn’t flinch. His presence was commanding, and even Geta, in his turmoil, could sense the shift.

You stepped back slightly, the weight of the situation dawning on you. The conflict between these two men was palpable, and it made the ground beneath your feet feel unsteady. Your heart pounded, not just from fear, but from something deeper, more painful. The realization that you were now caught between these two men who seemed to hold pieces of your life in their hands.

Geta’s lips curled slightly in a sardonic smile, though there was an edge to it. “I bet is too late to pay a visit to our beloved general"

Acacius ignored the provocation, his eyes now focused solely on you, his voice softening. “Are you all right?” he asked, though it was laced with an undertone of concern, almost as though he was afraid to hear the answer.

You could feel your chest tighten as Acacius’s eyes met yours, the concern in his voice stirring something deep inside of you, something vulnerable. You wanted to say something, anything to ease the tension, but the words wouldn’t come. Your emotions were a storm, a swirl of anger, fear, and confusion that made it impossible to think clearly.

Before you could respond, Geta’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. “Does he really care, or is this just about keeping control? Do you really think he’s here for you?” He sneered, stepping forward as if trying to push Acacius out of the space between you. “Or is it just the idea of you that he wants to control, the power that comes with your bloodline?”

The truth was beyond the obsession Geta had towards you, there was fear. He was aware your blood belonged to the realm, so you weren’t a lover he wanted to possess but a treat he wanted to eliminate.

You weren’t just a woman who caught his eye; you were the reminder of the power he feared losing. Your existence in the realm, your connection to the throne, made you a target in his mind. His twisted love for you wasn’t love, it was a deep-seated need to control, to erase what he couldn’t possess or manipulate.

Your marriage to the General of Rome put you in a place where you could go back to ruling the empire.

Acacius stood tall, his eyes still fixed on Geta, the tension between them thick enough to choke the air around you. His expression was hard, his jaw clenched with quiet fury, but it was the protective energy that radiated from him that caught your attention. He wasn’t going to let this spiral any further.

"Whatever matter you think needs discussing, Geta," Acacius began, his voice steady but firm, "it can wait until tomorrow. Not tonight. Not in the presence of my wife."

The words were sharp, final. There was a strength in them that sent a clear message, a line that Geta could not cross. Acacius’s gaze never wavered as he took a step forward, a silent challenge to Geta, daring him to try anything more.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, torn between relief and dread. Acacius's words were a shield, but they didn’t seem to do anything to quell the storm brewing between the two men.

Geta’s face hardened, the flicker of emotion that had passed through him earlier replaced by a steely resolve. “Your wife, Acacius,” he said, the venom in his tone unmistakable, “is a part of this empire, and the future of it is bound to her. Don’t think for a second you can keep her out of this.”

Acacius’s grip tightened on the reins of his horse, his knuckles white as he kept his stance, unwavering. “I’m not keeping her out of anything,” he said, his voice low but deadly. “But as her husband, I will not let you use her to fuel your delusions of power.”

For a moment, the air seemed to freeze, the threat hanging between them like a sword poised to fall. But Geta, ever the strategist, knew when to back down. He held your gaze for one last moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he turned away, his posture stiff, and he strode off, leaving the two of you standing there in the quiet aftermath.

You exhaled shakily, feeling a weight lift from your chest, but it didn’t last. The shadows of what had just transpired seemed to cling to you, the fear, the confusion still buzzing in your veins. Acacius’s protection, though fiercely given, couldn’t erase the uncertainty of everything that had just happened.

He turned to you then, his expression softening, though the hard edge from earlier remained in his eyes. “Are you all right?” His voice was gentle now, and the concern in his gaze pulled at your heart in a way you couldn’t explain.

You nodded but soon after you moved your head, everything went completely black.

The world slowly came back into focus, the heavy weight of unconsciousness lifting from your mind like a veil being drawn aside. You blinked, the sharp light of the morning creeping through the windows, and the gentle rustle of sheets beneath you signaled you were no longer outside. You were back inside, in the cool, quiet comfort of your chambers.

Your body felt heavy, as though every muscle had been drained of energy, but the pain from the night before had faded, replaced by a strange weariness that seeped into your bones. You tried to sit up, but a soft voice stopped you before you could move.

“Careful,” Lucilla said, her tone gentle but firm. She was sitting by your bedside, her eyes fixed on you with a mixture of concern and calm reassurance. “You need to rest.”

Your heart raced for a moment, the fragments of the night’s events rushing back to you. Geta’s confrontation, the threat in his voice, and Acacius standing between you, the tension thick enough to choke the air. You could still feel the sharp edge of fear in your chest, but for now, you were safe.

“Mother…” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “What happened? Is… is everything all right?”

Lucilla’s eyes softened, and she reached out to brush a lock of hair from your face, her touch soothing. “You fainted, my lady. After the confrontation with the emperor, you collapsed. Acacius was frantic. He had you brought inside immediately. He’s been by your side all night.”

Her words made your heart flutter, a strange mixture of emotions flooding you. Acacius had been there, waiting, watching over you, just as he always did. But there was something else in the air, something unspoken between you and him that neither of you could ignore.

“He stayed with me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him there, protecting you, made something twist inside your chest.

Lucilla nodded, her expression softening. “Yes. He didn’t leave your side for a moment. He’s worried about you.”

As Lucilla’s words settled into your mind, the door to your chambers creaked open. You barely had time to turn your head before Acacius stepped inside, his figure towering in the doorway. His presence seemed to fill the room, his eyes immediately locking with yours. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze, a depth of emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. For a moment, it felt as though the world outside of your small room had disappeared, leaving just the two of you, caught in the stillness of the moment.

He took a step forward, but it was the way he looked at your mother that made your breath catch in your throat. The same tension you had felt between you and him last night now seemed to make sense. The raw honesty, the confession he had made—the admission of his feelings, the vulnerability in his voice—was clear in that single glance. And in that moment, something inside you recoiled.

You were a burden.

“Acacius…” you whispered, barely able to speak, your mind reeling. You could feel the panic rising inside you, suffocating, as if there was no room to breathe in his presence. Was this what you had been running from all along?

He stepped closer, his voice steady but strained. “You’re awake,” he said quietly, almost as if he was still processing the fact. His eyes softened when they met yours, but there was a flicker of something darker behind them, something you couldn’t place.

“I was worried about you,” he added, his tone still holding a thread of concern, as if your well-being was his sole focus.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. Lucilla, sensing the weight of the moment, quietly excused herself, leaving you and Acacius alone in the quiet of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the silence between you two seemed to grow heavier, more suffocating. He took another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it fully. Every part of you screamed for distance, for space, and yet, he remained close—too close.

“Acacius, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. How could you put into words what you were feeling? The confusion, the fear, the overwhelming weight of it all? It wasn’t just about what Geta had done or said; it was about the emotions Acacius had stirred in you, emotions you didn’t know how to deal with.

You wanted to feel loved in a way your skin felt when the sun caresses your face in the midst of a cold winter.

But Acacius could never love you.

The days passed like slow, heavy drops of rain. The storm of emotions that had churned inside of you seemed to settle, but it wasn’t a calm; it was the oppressive stillness before something darker took hold. Acacius remained by your side, always present, but the warmth that once ignited in your chest when you saw him, when you felt his concern, began to dim. His confession, those raw words of love for your mother, left a lingering sting that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard you tried.

Each time you saw him, you felt a coldness creeping into your heart, like the chill of winter settling into your bones. It wasn’t that you hated him, far from it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had broken. You had wanted to feel cherished, wanted in a way that made you feel whole, like the sun warming your skin during the harshest of winters. But instead, you felt like the shadows of something lost were all that remained.

The days blurred together as you drifted through them in a fog. The joy that once accompanied your moments with Acacius, his gaze, his touch, seemed to fade with each passing day. You were still there, still functioning, but you weren’t alive in the way you had once been. You were a shadow of the person who had laughed freely, who had dreamed of a future with the man who had stood beside you through every storm.

Now, his presence only reminded you of what could never be. Every word from him felt weighted, laced with an unspoken truth you couldn’t escape. He was there, yes—but it was Lucilla’s name that seemed to linger in the air between you, a constant reminder of what could never happen.

You stopped meeting his gaze as often, your conversations clipped and polite, but distant. You couldn’t pretend anymore that things were the same. You couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling that had taken root inside you, gnawing at you like a slow, insidious poison.

The days felt endless. The life you had once felt for each moment, for each glance he gave you, slipped away bit by bit. You told yourself you were strong, that you would move on, that you could adapt to the life in front of you. But the spark that once filled your soul, the fire that had kept you going, was slowly being smothered. Each day without clarity, without answers, without that spark, made you more resigned, hollower.

The days blurred into weeks, and life continued its chaotic, inevitable march forward. The grandeur of Rome, its towering structures and ancient streets, became a distant backdrop to the turmoil that had taken root within you. Despite the growing tension surrounding you, your presence at the grand events of the empire remained. There were battles in the Colosseum—events that had once stirred the blood, filled with anticipation and excitement. Now, they were merely noise, the sounds of clashing steel and roars of the crowd unable to penetrate the numbness that had taken hold of your soul.

Geta's obsession with you deepened, his presence more frequent, more invasive. His eyes never seemed to leave you, and every word he spoke, every look, was an attempt to assert control, to draw you into his tangled web of fear and power. But his attempts only felt more suffocating. You were trapped, like an animal in a gilded cage, unable to escape his watchful gaze. He wasn’t interested in you as a woman; you were a symbol to him, something to manipulate, to dominate, to erase the threat you posed to his fragile claim on the empire.

Despite your growing isolation, Acacius remained at your side. His concern for you was evident, though he seemed to be walking on a thin line, careful not to overstep or push you too hard. He knew you were withdrawing, knew that something had shifted between you, but he didn’t know how to reach you. He could see the distance in your eyes, the way you pulled away when he tried to comfort you. And it broke him, though he never spoke of it.

There were feelings he didn’t know he was able to feel, appearing.

The battles at the Colosseum grew more brutal, the spectacle becoming more and more gruesome with each passing day. The roar of the crowd no longer thrilled you. The sight of blood, the cries of victory and death—it all blended into a backdrop of life that felt increasingly distant, like you were watching it all from behind a veil. You were alive, yes—but you weren’t truly living.

One evening, as you sat beside Acacius in the grand hall, your hand in his, you tried to force a smile. You knew he was watching, hoping for some sign that the woman he once knew was still there. The fingers that held yours were strong, steady, but you felt a chill crawl up your spine. His warmth didn’t reach you anymore. His presence, once a comfort, now felt like a reminder of everything you had lost.

"Smile," he whispered, his voice gentle, coaxing. "Just for tonight. For me."

You nodded, a small, strained smile curling at the corner of your lips. But as you smiled, something inside you felt hollow. You knew what he saw—the facade of a woman who was still whole, still alive. But inside, you were dying. The life that once burned brightly in you had been extinguished, snuffed out by the weight of betrayal, fear, and a love that could never be returned. And as you smiled for him, you felt like an actor playing a part—faking a life that wasn’t truly yours anymore.

The crowd cheered as Acacius raised your hand, the symbol of his victory and his loyalty to Rome. But you couldn’t feel the victory. You couldn’t feel the joy. You just felt death. Not the death of your body, but the death of everything you had once been. The woman who dreamed, who hoped, who believed in love and light, was slipping further away with each passing day.

Acacius, for all his strength, could never reach you. You could see the worry in his eyes, the way he would glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, as if he was searching for something—anything—that would tell him you were still there. But you weren’t. You were a shadow, a flicker of the woman you used to be, trapped in the space between life and death.

As the days stretched on, Geta’s obsession with you grew more dangerous. His presence became a constant reminder of your captivity, the ever-present shadow of his desire to control. He wasn’t content with merely watching anymore. No, now he was making his move, pushing harder, testing boundaries. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, even when he wasn’t in the room. He was always there, lurking, waiting.

Acacius noticed it too. He saw the way you tensed whenever Geta entered the room, the way your eyes darted nervously, the way your smile faltered. He knew you were becoming a shell of the person you once were. And for the first time, Acacius found himself unsure of how to help you. He had always been your protector, your constant, but now, it felt like he was failing you.

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” he said one night, his voice rough with emotion. He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I see it. The distance. I see you slipping away from me, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

You wanted to tell him, to let him in, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you turned your gaze toward the distant horizon, watching the sun set behind the buildings of Rome, casting long shadows across the streets. It was a beautiful sight, but you couldn’t appreciate it. The beauty of the world was lost on you now.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, though the words didn’t feel like enough. They would never be enough.

Acacius squeezed your hand tighter, as if trying to hold onto you, to keep you from slipping away entirely. But you knew, deep down, that it was already too late. You were already gone.

The days continued to stretch on, the weight of your own existence pressing down on you with each breath you took. You moved through life like a specter, haunted by your own thoughts, consumed by the shadow of everything that had transpired. The air around you felt thick, suffocating, and nothing seemed to reach you anymore.

One evening, after yet another long day of feigned smiles and empty conversations, you retreated to your chambers. You had long since stopped caring about the grand appearances, the masks you were expected to wear. In the silence of your room, the darkness that had begun to take root in your heart felt heavier than ever before. It was as though the weight of your despair had become a tangible thing, pulling you under, drowning you from the inside.

You moved toward the bath, the cool marble surface inviting you with its quiet promise of solitude. You sank into the warm water, hoping, if only for a moment, to drown out the noise inside your mind, to forget the suffocating reality that had become your life. The water enveloped you, and for a brief moment, you felt weightless, free—free from everything that bound you, from Geta's obsession, from the looming presence of the empire, and from the love you could never have.

But the peace was fleeting. The thoughts came rushing back, overwhelming and relentless. Acacius’s touch, his words, his confession of love for your mother—it all swirled in your mind like a storm, too much to bear. And in that moment, something inside you snapped. You wanted it all to end. The pain. The confusion. The crushing weight of everything.

As the water rose higher, you slipped under, the coolness surrounding you like an embrace. It was quiet. So quiet. The pressure in your chest intensified, a cold finality settling in. Your body felt heavier, the world fading as you sank deeper into the water. The voices in your head quieted, the darkness enveloping you completely. And for the first time in a long while, you felt... peace.

But fate had other plans.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume you completely, a sudden hand gripped your arm, pulling you from the water with desperate force. The world rushed back in an instant, blinding, harsh, and you gasped for air, coughing, choking as water flooded your lungs.

“No!” a familiar voice cried out, filled with fear. “Don’t you dare do this!”

Your vision swam as Acacius’s strong arms pulled you up, his face a mask of panic and determination. He moved quickly, his hands steady as he worked to lift you from the bath and cradle you against his chest. His voice was shaky, though he tried to hide it.

“Stay with me,” he urged, his voice breaking as he held you close, his hands pressing against your wet skin. “Please. Don’t leave me.”

You were too weak to respond, your body trembling, your mind foggy. But his words—don’t leave me—cut through the haze. They echoed in your ears, but they didn’t make sense. Why would he want you to stay when you were nothing more than a burden, a shadow of what you once were?

“Acacius…” you whispered weakly, your throat raw as you fought to speak. His name felt like the last thread that held you to this world. "Why...?"

His grip tightened on you, his body radiating warmth as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with desperation and anguish.

“Because I want to love you,” he said, his voice shaking but steady with resolve. “I’ve always wanted to love you. You don’t have to carry all of this alone. I don’t care about the empire, about the danger, or the expectations of the world. I care about you. I want to be there for you—to love you.”

His words hung in the air like an echo, reverberating through the silence that had settled between you. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to reach for that spark of hope, the promise of love he was offering, but the weight of everything you had been through, everything you had lost, held you back.

You closed your eyes, your breath still shaky, and tried to push away the wave of conflicting emotions that surged within you. Acacius’s love, though it was sincere, felt like a distant dream—a dream that you didn’t deserve. How could you accept his love when you felt so broken, so consumed by the darkness inside of you?

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but filled with the depth of the regret you felt. “I’m not who you think I am. I’ve lost so much of myself...”

Acacius gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and comforting, as though he were trying to steady you from the storm that raged inside of you. He was quiet for a long moment, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“You’re not lost,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You’re not alone, even when it feels like it. I’m here. I will always be here, whether you believe it or not.”

The warmth of his touch seemed to seep into your skin, like a quiet promise. But even with that promise, there was still a part of you that resisted. You were drowning—not just in the water, but in the weight of your own thoughts, your own feelings. How could you possibly let yourself love again, after everything that had happened?

“I don’t know how to let anyone love me anymore,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "Not after everything I've been through... everything that's been taken from me."

He leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours as his hands moved to hold you more firmly. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just let me be here with you, for as long as you need. You don’t have to carry the world on your own anymore."

His words settled in your heart, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe, to feel his presence. It wasn’t a solution to all that haunted you, but it was something—something real.

“You’re not alone, either,” you whispered, your voice still fragile but more certain than before. “I don’t want to be alone, either.”

The quiet between you felt like an unspoken promise, an understanding. You didn’t have all the answers, and you didn’t know how to fix what was broken.

Acacius carefully lifted you in his arms, his movements gentle yet strong, as though he feared breaking you. The room was quiet, save for the sound of his steady breathing and the soft rustle of the sheets as he settled you onto the bed. His hands lingered at your sides, making sure you were comfortable, as though he couldn't bear to be too far away, even for a second.

You lay there, your body trembling from the cold of the water and the emotions that had swirled through you in such a short time. But there was a warmth now, a steadiness in the way Acacius was with you, something that grounded you amidst the chaos. His presence filled the space between the silence, and you wanted to hold onto that feeling, to keep it close as though it were the last thread that could save you from the darkness.

But even as your thoughts tangled, your voice came out soft, barely a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the fragile calm that had settled around you.

"Acacius," you said, your voice catching slightly. "Stay... please."

The words hung in the air, vulnerable and raw, and you could feel your heart beating faster as you waited for his response. You weren’t sure what you were asking for—comfort, reassurance, or simply the presence of someone who cared when everything else seemed so uncertain.

Acacius didn’t speak at first. He simply moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his gaze intense, but filled with an understanding that pierced through the barriers you had built around yourself. His hand gently rested on yours, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing motions.

"Of course," he finally said, his voice a soft promise, like the calm after a storm. "I’m not going anywhere."

He pulled the blanket over you, ensuring you were warm and comfortable, and then he settled beside you, close but not too close. His presence filled the space beside you, but there was a tenderness in the way he lay next to you, giving you the space you needed while still remaining close enough to feel his warmth, his care.

You turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. The vulnerability in your chest, the fear of asking for too much, made you hesitate for a moment. But then, with a shaky breath, you spoke again, this time more urgently.

"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Just... for tonight. I don’t want to be alone."

Acacius’s gaze softened, his lips curling into a faint, reassuring smile. Without saying a word, he shifted closer to you, his arm slipping around you as he pulled you gently against him. His warmth enveloped you, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to rest, truly rest, without the weight of the world pressing down on you.

In that moment, as you felt his heartbeat steady against yours, the storm inside you quieted, if only for a little while. The darkness still lingered at the edges of your thoughts, but Acacius’s presence, his steady, unyielding care, was a reminder that, for now, you didn’t have to face it alone.

And so, you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his arms around you pull you into a fragile peace, knowing that, for this one night, you were not lost.

In the days that followed, something shifted between you and Acacius. It was subtle at first, like the quiet change of seasons, but it was unmistakable. His devotion to you became more evident in every action, in every word. It wasn’t just the caring gestures—though those were abundant—but the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his touch seemed to convey more than words ever could. You could feel the change in the air, like the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds.

Acacius, the loyal general, who had always been steadfast in his duties to the empire, had turned his focus entirely toward you. His thoughts, his actions, and his very presence were now centered around ensuring that you were safe, that you were cared for.

Every morning, he would bring you breakfast, a small smile on his lips as he placed the tray before you. He would sit with you, talking about the day’s events, but his attention was always on you, his eyes soft with concern, his every movement thoughtful. If you showed signs of fatigue, he would insist on helping you with whatever you needed, no matter how small. And when the nights came, he would always stay, watching over you as you slept, keeping his promise to never let you be alone.

At times, you felt the weight of his care, the devotion he gave so freely, and it both soothed and unsettled you. The fear of being a burden gnawed at your mind, but each time you tried to withdraw, Acacius was there, offering reassurance, pulling you back from the edge.

“What about when you have to go into battle again?” you asked once, your voice barely above a whisper. The question had been haunting you ever since your marriage. No matter how much Acacius promised protection, he was a general first—a soldier bound to the empire’s whims.

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the confident, stoic mask he always wore faltered, and you saw the man beneath it, a man burdened with duty and uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I will make sure you’re safe before I leave. Always.”

His honesty was disarming, and for once, it didn’t feel like an empty reassurance. Still, the thought of him riding off to battle, leaving you behind in the suffocating grip of the palace, sent a shiver down your spine.

“And what if you don’t come back?” you pressed, your voice trembling.

Acacius stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I will come back,” he said firmly. “I’ve survived countless battles, and I’ll survive the next one. Because now, I have a reason to.”

His words made your breath catch, and you turned away, unwilling to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t say things like that,” you murmured. “Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep.”

“I’m not making promises,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’m telling you the truth.”

You looked at him then, your emotions a whirlwind of fear, anger, and something else—something you weren’t ready to name. “You make it sound so simple,” you said bitterly.

“It’s not,” he admitted, his expression unflinchingly honest. “But I’ve faced death more times than I can count, and I’ve always fought to live. Now, I fight for you, too.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice raw.

“I don’t want to be the reason you don’t come back.”

He reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. “You won’t be,” he said. “If anything, you’re the reason I will.”

The vulnerability in his voice was almost too much to bear. You closed your eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to do this, Acacius,” you admitted. “I don’t know how to let myself care for someone when everything in my life has been taken from me.”

He stepped closer, his hand sliding down to take yours. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” he said. “But let me stay by your side while you do.”

His grip was firm yet gentle, and in that moment, you felt a flicker of something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in years: hope.

“Just... come back,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“I will,” he promised, his gaze unwavering. “Always.”

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe him.

After the gladiators’ fights had concluded in the Colosseum, you and your mother, left the arena, your minds still lingering on the chaos of the day. Acacius had been by your side throughout the event, his protective presence never wavering. But you noticed something had shifted in him—the tension in his jaw, the restlessness in his eyes, as if his mind was elsewhere. It was as though the very air around him had grown heavier.

As you made your way back to the villa, you could feel the weight of the looming battle on his shoulders. The orders from Emperor Geta and Caracalla had been clear: Acacius was to return to the front lines in two days. The idea of losing him, of seeing him walk into another battle with the same fierce determination he had shown every time, filled you with dread.

The villa felt quieter that night, the cool breeze brushing against the stone walls, but inside, the silence was almost suffocating. Acacius was pacing in his chamber, his armor now set aside, but his mind seemed far from peace. You watched him from the doorway for a moment, your heart aching as you saw him battle with his own thoughts.

"Acacius," you said softly, stepping closer.

He didn’t look up right away, but when he did, his eyes seemed to carry the weight of the world. "I’m sorry," he muttered. "I know you want more from me, but right now, my duty—my loyalty—it demands more than I can give."

You walked toward him, the soft sound of your sandals barely reaching his ears. "You don't have to apologize," you said quietly, touching his arm. "But I can see it... you're restless. You're carrying the burden of something you shouldn't have to face alone."

He sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I have no choice. The orders are clear. If I don't return to battle, I dishonor my men, and if I do... I risk everything. Including you."

Your heart fluttered at his words. You moved a little closer, your voice softer now. "You don't have to risk everything alone. I’m here, Acacius. If you need my company tonight, I will stay. I will help carry your burden, if only for this one night."

For a moment, he stood still, as if weighing your words. Then, slowly, his hands reached for you, gently pulling you closer until there was no distance left between you. The tension in his shoulders softened, but only slightly. His eyes, filled with uncertainty and longing, met yours.

"I don’t deserve you.” he murmured, his voice rough.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You are more than that. You are the man who has kept me safe, and for that alone, I would follow you anywhere."

He seemed to hesitate for just a breath, then, with a sudden urgency, he kissed you. It was gentle at first, a soft press of his lips against yours, as if he were testing the waters. But the moment your lips met, everything else faded. The weight of the empire, the war, the orders—none of it mattered in that instant. The world outside was silent, and the only thing that existed was the warmth of his kiss, the soft but undeniable spark between you.

As he pulled away slightly, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing a little faster, your hearts racing. His voice was low, almost a whisper. "You’ve made this so much harder”

You smiled softly, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. "Maybe that’s exactly what I want," you whispered, a playful glint in your eyes.

His lips brushed against yours again, this time more urgently, more desperately, as if the fear of losing you in the battle, or the fear of losing everything in the coming days, had driven him to this moment.

And in that kiss, you both found something you hadn’t realized you were searching for. You had been lost in the chaos of the empire, in the uncertainty of what came next, but in this moment, with him, everything felt right. You weren’t alone anymore.

As you pulled away from the kiss, Acacius didn’t let go of you right away, his hands still resting on your shoulders, as though afraid you might slip away. His breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling in time with your own. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the world outside the villa’s walls completely forgotten.

Carefully, he brought his hands to your shoulders, traveling down your arms, at the same time your skin bristled under his touch. You had never felt this before, the mixture of nerves and lust of being touched with delicacy and love that you didn't know could exist.

He carried you to his bed gently, in slow steps without taking his gaze from your eyes that looked at him with curiosity and lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

Lust and desire.

The fabric of your dress felt suffocating against your skin and as if he had read your mind, he peeled your clothes off your skin leaving you completely exposed under his gaze. You gaped at him, half embarrassed, half impressed, then he pulled his lips back upon yours, palming your breast, as he made his way to his bed.

You chuckled as you lay there, and his face matched your smile as he continued to kiss you down your neck. The warmth of your uneven breaths mingled, enveloping you both as he quickly worked on his garments, and as soon as his clothes were removed, there was nothing to keep you apart. You curled your fingers in his hair as he kissed you all over your body for the first time. You could sense the emotions, but the intimacy and lust were like a fire in your core.

You felt Acacius' lips against your hips and angled them up for him. You were already dripping as he licked a route from your thigh to your cunt before sucking on your clit and pressing his fingers against you.

You whimpered while holding his head between your legs. His cock hardened as the sound from your lips and you clenched around his fingers. He sucked like he was hungry, forcing your legs apart till you had one calf under his shoulder. His free hand moved up your torso, grabbing your breast, as his nose rubbed against your clit. For instinct, you buried your heel into his back and dragged him closer until all he could taste was you.

He fucked you slowly, taking his time to taste your wetness on his lips before locking eyes with you. You were flustered, and your eyes shone.

"You...fuck," you whispered.

"I want you; I need you before leaving" he whispered desperately, going forward between your legs, forcing your knees up to your breasts, and plunging into you easily. You sighed and leaned forward to kiss him. Your hands were on the back of his neck, and he was on your breasts, attempting to touch you everywhere. As you both kissed, you raised your hips to fuck up into him as he drove down into you, attempting to be as cautious as possible.

You mumbled "Acacius, I love you" into his ear before he reclaimed your lips. He leaned down and sucked your nipples, lightly biting your breasts.

“I’ll come back for you cara mia” he promised, between thrusts, grinding his cock as deep as into you as it could go as you encouraged him with your moans and nails scratching down his back. Those marks would accompany the wounds of thousands of battles.

He slid his hand down to your pussy and rubbed along your clit. You fucked yourself harder on him by thrusting back against him right away.

When you came, he whispered something on your neck. You clutched around him and your hips trembled even as he continued to fuck you. Soon after, he began thrusting into you and eventually pulled out while making uneasy gasps in your shoulders. After that, the only sound in the room was the mingling of your breaths.

Acacius was nosing at your throat, promising he would come back alive to continue his life adoring you

The room was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of your breaths, which mingled together in the stillness. Time seemed to stretch, the weight of the moment settling around you like a gentle, unspoken promise.

his warm breath grazing your neck, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His hands, still holding you with a tenderness you hadn't known before, seemed to search for something, as though memorizing the contours of your skin, tracing the lines of your jaw, your shoulders, your breath.

"I’ll come back," he murmured, his voice hushed, as though sharing a secret only meant for you. "I promise, I will come back to you. I won't leave you alone."

His lips brushed lightly against the soft skin of your throat, and you could feel the intensity of his words in that simple, delicate touch. You felt a sudden knot tighten in your chest, a mixture of longing and fear, but more than that, a deep, consuming need to believe him, to trust in the promise he was making.

"I will continue my life loving you," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, as though each word was a vow, a binding thread between you two. "When the battles are over, when the storm has passed, I'll be here and I will adore you for as long as I live."

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his body pressed so closely against yours, the heat of his devotion seeping into your soul. For a brief, fleeting moment, it felt as if everything else faded away—the empire, the scheming, the endless pressures. It was just the two of you in that room, your hearts beating as one, a bond forged in the quiet moments when nothing else mattered.

You took a deep breath, feeling his hands gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing away the stray tear that had escaped. Your hand instinctively reached for his, holding onto him tightly as if the act itself could somehow make his promise real, could anchor him to you forever.

"I need you to come back," you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them, your voice trembling with the weight of the truth behind them.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hands steady and comforting. Then, with a soft and almost hesitant voice, Acacius finally asked, "Could you stay with me tonight? Sleep beside me."

The vulnerability in his words surprised you. Acacius had always been the strong, unshakable general, the one who carried the weight of the empire on his shoulders with unyielding resolve. But now, in the quiet of your shared space, he seemed as human as anyone, his guard lowered, his needs simple, yet profound.

Your heart gave a quiet thud in your chest, and without hesitation, you nodded. "Of course," you said softly. "I’m not going anywhere."

His eyes softened, the slightest flicker of relief crossing his features. He led you over to the bed, the weight of the day seeming to leave him as he settled beside you. The soft rustle of the sheets was the only sound as he adjusted, his body tense but slowly relaxing as you lay beside him.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, simply sharing the same quiet space, your presence the only comfort either of you needed. But the closeness was enough. It was as though the war, the orders, the empire itself could not reach you here, in this space that was just yours and his.

"Stay with me," he whispered after a while, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. His hand found yours in the dark, his fingers threading through yours, a simple but grounding gesture.

You squeezed his hand gently, resting your head on the pillow beside him. "I’m not going anywhere, Acacius. I’m here. And I’ll be here tomorrow, and the day after, no matter what happens."

The words hung in the air, simple but true, and in that moment, you both found something precious, peace in the storm, a promise without words. Acacius’s breath slowed, his body finally releasing the tension that had held him captive for so long.

Acacius woke slowly, the gray light of early morning spilling softly into the room. For a moment, the heaviness of his reality came crashing down on him—the orders from Geta and Caracalla, the battle that awaited him, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The weight was still there, pressing on his chest like an unrelenting force, refusing to let him breathe freely.

But then, he became aware of something else.

You.

Your warmth was pressed against him, your head resting on his chest, your hand lightly curled over his heart. The soft rise and fall of your breathing matched the quiet rhythm of the room, and for the first time in days, maybe even months, Acacius felt the smallest flicker of peace.

He glanced down at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your face in the gentle morning light. You looked so calm, so trusting, nestled beside him, as though you belonged there. A part of him still couldn’t believe you had stayed, that you had given him this small gift of solace before he left for what could be his last battle.

Carefully, as though afraid to wake you, he lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch lingered for a moment, his fingers barely grazing your skin, and he let out a quiet sigh. How had it come to this? How had you, someone he had been ordered to protect, become the person who made him feel safe?

The thought brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He knew he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve you. And yet, here you were, giving him the strength he hadn’t even known he needed.

You stirred slightly, nuzzling closer to him in your sleep, and he froze for a moment, unsure if you were waking. But you only let out a soft sigh and settled against him once more. He couldn’t help the way his arm tightened around you, holding you closer, as though he could shield you from the world for just a little while longer.

His voice was barely a whisper, more to himself than to you. "What have you done to me?"

As the minutes passed, Acacius let himself stay in that moment, letting go of the weight of his duty, if only for a little while. With you there, the storm within him seemed to quiet, and for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to hope.

When you finally began to stir, blinking sleepily up at him, he felt his chest tighten. Your eyes met his, and though your expression was soft, he could see the worry lingering there.

"Good morning," you murmured, your voice warm and still tinged with sleep.

"Good morning," he replied, his voice lower than usual, as though the morning had stolen some of his strength.

You reached up, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. "You didn’t sleep much, did you?"

He shook his head, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "No. But this... this helped."

You smiled at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Then let me help you more. Whatever you need, Acacius, I’m here."

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch as though it was the only thing keeping him steady. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear, filled with something deeper than gratitude.

"I’ll remember this," he said softly, his voice carrying a promise you didn’t fully understand but felt all the same. "No matter what happens, I’ll remember."

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multific · 25 days ago

Text

Scent

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: You never would have imagined such a ruthless and sadistic man to be so obsessed with scent.

How did you always manage to smell so good?

Every person he met smelled terrible.

He had many men thrown out of the room because of their foul smell.

But you always smelled divine. And different each time.

Sometimes you smelled of roses.

Sometimes you smelled of lavender.

Sometimes you smelled of milk.

It was always perfect. It made Geta always bury his nose into your skin.

Strangely, your hair never smelled like your body.

Your hair always smelled of fresh flowers or apples.

He loved it.

He loved you.

Every moment he got, he smelled you. Burying his face into your neck, or during private moments, he buried himself into your breasts or stomach.

It wasn't just your dresses that smelled good.

Your dresses were different.

While they smelled like you, they also smelled so fresh.

"An Empress should smell nice." is what you said to him when he asked you about the smell.

He knew how you liked to bathe.

How you enjoyed being washed and worshipped.

In reality, you preferred to smell great for your husband. Since the first time he noticed your smell of roses, and told you how much he enjoyed it.

Ever since then, you have been finding new ways to smell divine.

And now, you had one more trick up your sleeve.

You were brushing your hair in front of your mirror. You preferred to do it yourself since the servants were always so rough.

Geta closed the door behind himself and let out a long sigh.

"Do you know just how difficult it is to talk to a man who smells like shit? Literal shit! I couldn't even focus."

"Maybe you should take a bath." you suggested as you looked at him. You smiled when his eyes met yours.

You heard him smelling the air.

"This is new." he said as he walked over to you his nose up in the air, taking big whiffs. "Honey?"

"Yes Dear?" you smirked at him as he smiled. A genuine happy smile might be rare for others, but not for you.

He knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your hand and began to smell up from your wrist to your elbow, from your elbow to your shoulder.

His breath tickled your skin, making you giggle.

Soon, his nose found it's rightful place in the curve of your neck.

"You smell so sweet." he whispered as he took deep breaths.

"I'm happy you like it."

"How do you do it? How do you know what I need? I wanted honey today, craved for it and here you are! Smelling like the sweetest honey treat."

"I'm your wife. Who else would know what you need if not me?"

"Oh, how I love you, My Sweet Wife."

"I love you too."

You both soon headed to bed where he continued to smell your skin and hair, not letting go for one second.

And this is how you slept every night, with Geta hugging your back to his front, his nose in your neck.

You slept happy, knowing your husband loved you the same you loved him.

Taglist:

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

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

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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

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cryobabiess · 19 days ago

Note

girldad!geta pleeease!

Filia Divina

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader

Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny

AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!

It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.

The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.

“It cannot be true—look again!” Geta frantically commands the weary doctor. He paces across the marble floor in a state of distress. A litany of expressions troubles his face; disbelief, panic, betrayal.

“My lord, it is not what was desired, but I assure you—the child is female. You have my greatest sorrows.” The doctor mournfully bows his head, knowing better than to look the short tempered prince in the eye.

Geta was persistent, diligently sewing his seed in your womb since your holy union. You passed two of his children as blood, and he held you as you suffered through the pain. He watched your body grow when his efforts succeeded, massaged your taut skin with olive oil, and fed you bread soaked in sweet wine when you felt ill. He even kneeled at Jupiter’s alter to call for the safe delivery of his first son and the health of his wife—All these precautions only to be cruelly slighted.

“The gods have punished me, yet I’ve done nothing but bend to their will.” Geta holds his head in disbelief, his devastation made evident by a deep scowl.

Senator Gracchus tentatively approaches your distraught husband, resting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, we must atone for our offenses, whatever they may be. It is a grave misfortune indeed, but your bride—“

Rage ignites across Geta’s face as he pulls away from his constituent’s touch.

“Speak tactfully of your empress if you wish to keep your tongue, Senator.” He seethes through a tight jaw. Gracchus relents, his tone softening considerably. He continues slowly and with caution.

“Two winters have passed since your union, and she has yet to bring forth an heir of Rome. Her body has proved inhospitable. The gods have sent a message, and it would be foolish to turn a cheek—you must heed this omen! ”

Geta takes a moment, carefully considering the senator’s plea for reason. He looks back to you, Obsidian eyes gazing down at the linen sheet that obscures your sleeping child.

“I am a conduit of their will. Tollere Liberos will prevail and the gods will decide through me.” Geta turns to you fully. Your heart becomes heavy in your chest as you search your husband’s face for tenderness, but see nothing but solid stone.

In your dreams, you imagined the day Geta approached his first heir as sweet—that he might kiss your reddened cheeks and proudly claim his child. Never did you think the sight of him would cause you to tighten your grip and cower away. He looms over the bed where you lay, exhausted and perspiring, like a holy monument.

“Show me the child.”

“My love, I beg you—“

“Your emperor commands it.” Geta callously interrupts.

You unwrap your daughter in your arms, trembling hands moving as gingerly as possible. She shifts in her sleep, curling her precious limbs toward her delicate body, but does not wake. Geta’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

“So it is true. My faithful wife’s womb has betrayed me.” His gaze softens. Something stirs behind it, but you are not sure what.

“If you wish to return her life, then be merciful and do the same with mine.” Your heart twists and aches, your love for your emperor becoming a knife in your rib.

To your shock, Geta reaches out to his daughter, takes her tiny fist in his palm, and runs a thumb over her blushing knuckles. She wraps her hand around her father’s finger with a mighty yawn.

You have seldom seen your restless husband become so still.

“She bears your resemblance.” Geta’s voice is but a whisper. His gaze doesn’t stray from her. It appears his heart aches the same as yours.

“And a head of golden hair.” You can only offer an exhausted smile.

Geta takes his daughter into his arms for the first time.

“The gods have spoken!” He declares to the small gathering of senators. Your emperor raises his girl above the laurels atop his head. Some look on with horror, and others with pride.

“She will have my name! It is done.”

As your daughter’s first weeks pass, Geta’s tenderness only grows. In the lavender hours of dawn, you wake to find him cradling her in the crook of his arm. He speaks to her softly.

“Poor girl, you have wounded your father’s pride. My, what tragedy.”

You smile at the sound of her gentle crooning as your husband assuages her back to sleep.

“A son would belong to Rome—but you, dear Septima, will belong to me.”

#emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii #request #in which geta briefly considers infanticide lol

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munsonmuses · 6 months ago

Text

Emperor Geta x Fem! Reader

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

Word Count: 2.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too…”

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn Cinematic Universe #JQCU #addiewrites #gladiator 2 #gladiator Joseph Quinn #emperor geta just one chance please

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strawbbzombwie · 5 months ago

Text

Treasure.

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

Word count: 1.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My perfect treasure.”

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

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

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floatyflowers · 3 months ago

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

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

You are the wife of two emperors.

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

How did that happen?

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

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

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

Julia Domna objected because it would be a scandal.

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

However, your husband, Geta, agreed.

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

Your husband already knows, and also informed Caracalla.

"The child shall be mine"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #geta x reader #Caracalla x reader #gladiator 2 #yandere historical characters #ancient history

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doctorwhoandfairytaillover · 21 days ago

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Fall of an Empire

Summary: The fall of an empire began because of the love for a woman.

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Reader (romantic), Emperor Caracalla x Reader (platonic)

A/N: I will be honest, wish I had written this as soon as I left theaters but it's as good as I could make it. 😅

Warning: Major character deaths and some movie spoilers if you haven't seen it yet

Divider credits @saradika

It was never meant for her.

To most onlookers, it became quite obvious that should anything ever happen to the empress, that it would not take long for the twin emperors to descend into madness. The two had a penchant for violence, one that was difficult for them to be ever satisfied and somehow it came to be that Geta, was consumed by the love and affection he held for his wife from the moment their eyes met on the day they were wed.

While Caracalla viewed her with a brotherly love, calling her sister the day they met and appreciating her all the more when she gifted him with his prized monkey Dondas. Her gentle but firm hand was quick to soften the temper of the brothers, there was still a madness that brewed beneath the surface and all knew, it would all turn to ruin should anything befall the young empress.

She shouldn't have been there that day.

Still in the early months, the empress' pregnancy was an open secret amongst everyone in the senate and many were cautious to incur the wrath of their emperors as their protectiveness seemed to reach even greater heights than was the norm. Her recent symptoms had her spending much more time in the royal couples chambers, hiding away to let the nauseousness abate. The same symptom that had kept her from being by the side of her husband and brother by law during the first initial days of games in the colosseum meant to celebrate the conquest of Numidia.

The fateful day had begun like most in its mundanity for the young Emperor Geta and his lovely wife (Y/N), both rousing slowly with the rise of Helios in the sky with their legs tangled together and in a tender warm embrace as they had slept. Geta was careful to cradle his wife in his arms, his hands languidly caressing her small bump that had only recently begun to show in recent weeks.

"How is the little one treating you this morning, beloved?" Geta whispered between soft kisses to her neck.

Stretching tiredly, she cupped his cheek in her hand, "Much better than usual. I think the concoction made by the healer has finally had an effect because I actual feel like joining you and Caracalla today."

"Are you certain?" he asked softly. "There's no need for you to join us if you aren't feeling up to the task. I can come up with another excuse if needed."

"Stop fussing, my love" she giggled. "I truly feel leagues better and the gladiators will be fighting by water today, do you think I would want to miss such a feat?"

His brow creased in uncertainty. He knew that if his wife was truly not up to the task of being by his side that she would make it known. But there was an uneasiness that he couldn't seem to shake off.

He gently untangled himself from their loving embrace, quickly dressing himself in a robe and took strides to the jeweled chest atop of her vanity, clutching the box to his chest and returning to her side. Carefully, Geta helped his wife put on her jewelry and pressing a kiss to her hands or lips for every adornment that he placed on her.

"Your well being is my top priority," he said kneeled by her side. "The moment that you feel anything amiss, we leave. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my love" she conceded with a smile.

Geta wasn't given a chance to say anything more as the doors to their chambers were pushed open by none other than Caracalla. The younger brother giggling in amusement when he stepped in.

"Lovely morrow for a bit of violence and blood, wouldn't you say brother? Will my radiant sister join us at last or has your little parasite incapacitated her once more?"

"I will be with both of you, little brother" (Y/N) said gently. "And please refrain from calling your niece or nephew a parasite, you wouldn't want to upset them before they have even arrived."

Caracalla waved her off and smiled, "The little parasite can complain when they're older. Until then, I can call them whatever I like because they seem to enjoy making you suffer." He leaned down and spoke to the small bump, "You'll be an absolute menace, isn't that right little parasite?"

Geta huffed out in mild annoyance and began to push his brother out of the room, "You can make more complaints about my progeny later. My wife and I are still not dressed."

"Oh, I don't mind staying."

"We will see you in the colosseum brother," Geta said with a shove and closing the doors. When they were shut, he turned back to his wife. "Let us make haste then before he tries to come bother again."

It was chaos below in the arena, the barbarian Hanno had led his group of men into ramming their boat against the opposing side and there was so much to see that it all became difficult to track. Smoke from the flames burning the boat made the task near impossible, but it didn't stop the adrenaline from coursing the veins of the young emperors from the glimpses they could see.

"My love," the empress called to her husband in worry. "They're too close, it's too close. We must leave or take caution, the men and boats are too close."

"Don't make such a fuss, sister" Caracalla said but his gaze stayed on the carnage below. "Things are getting interesting."

Below their sight, Hanno had a crossbow in his hands with the clear intent of killing the General Acacius. The aforementioned man had no chance to warn his empress that was seated in front of him of the gladiators intentions.

It all happened so fast.

It was an accident.

The crossbow was jostled in Hanno's hands as the arrow was let loose and it struck dead center between the two emperors.

And into the empress' chest.

The two men screamed in horror, unused to the violence being so close and it having any true impact to them. Caracalla was hysterical as guards pulled him away; screeching, hitting, and calling for something to be done for his sister. While Geta was enraged as he tried to temper his emotions and pushing the guards aside.

"Everything will be alright, wife" Geta said as he held his wife's hand in his own that trembled. "We will bring the healer and then find the gladiator that is to be dealt with!"

The empress could not respond, choking on her blood as she tried to reach for her husbands face before her final breath left her body.

When she went limp in his grasp, there was no halting the enraged wail from Geta as he lost his beloved bride and unborn child in a single moment.

Nothing could stop the spiral of destruction that followed the demise of the empress.

It was General Acacius' fault as the arrow was meant for him.

It was Lucillas fault for birthing the bastard that did it.

It was their fault

It was THEIR fault

It was Geta's fault.

Or so Caracalla's mind was led to believe as he and his brother sought refuge away from the hordes of people that sought to remove them from their seats of power.

His beloved sister (Y/N) and her little parasite were gone because Geta had failed to protect them.

Dondas and he would soon follow if Geta was permitted to reign alongside him any longer.

With every slash, the voices calmed in Caracalla's mind, and it soothed him to see the same rivers of blood flow down his brother's chest just as he had seen happen to his lovely sister.

Geta although unwilling, was to be reunited with his wife and child.

Caracalla would join them soon enough.

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta fanfic #gladiator ii x reader #gladiator ii fanfiction #x reader #x reader insert

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fandomizedtrash · 17 days ago

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Worthy of an Emperor

Summary: When abundantly worshipped, the Gods would send one of their own to the leaders of Rome as a thank you and reward for their loyalty. As a daughter of Jupiter, you would have never assumed that one day, your peaceful life would be altered forever, as your father sees you as the perfect gift, and bride-to-be for a certain Roman emperor. (Emperor Geta x daughter of Jupiter!reader)

warnings: Smut, 18+, dubcon, (if you squint), Historical inaccuracies, mythological inaccuracies (come on y'all, who saw this movie for the history), arranged marriage.

Word count: 2.2k

REQUESTS OPEN

I have not written a fanfic in a very VERY long time so I might be a little rusty. Nonetheless, enjoy!

As a demi-god, your life was more lavish than most young women. Your mother, the daughter of a senator, was seduced by the God many years ago resulting in your conception. And since your birth, a life at court and amongst the most powerful families and men in Rome has been your world.

Ever since you came of age, nearly every man you passed gazed in your direction. Enchanted by your divinity. Not that you paid it much mind, you were preoccupied with texts, maps, scrolls, and the animals that surrounded the palace. Whatever path your future held was not one that worried you or one you particularly thought about. As long as you had your freedom, what was there to stress about?

Which is why when your father Jupiter, king of the Gods told you that you were to marry one of the twin Emperors of Rome, you almost laughed in his face.

“Tell me you are joking?” It was a warm spring day, Summer just on the horizon, while crouching down, you tending to your plants and flowers in the palace garden, your father shot down from the heaven’s in a bolt of lightning startling you.

“I am afraid I am not. Although I cannot imagine why such news would upset you. Being the bride to one of the most powerful men in all of the Empire.” Your father explained, lecturing you as if you were a child.

“You don’t know Emperor Geta the way I do.” You replied grimly, focusing again at the flora in front of you.

Your contact with the infamous red haired tyrant and his brother has been limited. The few times you were in his vicinity were not particularly found moments. Most of which included the terrible Gladiator tournaments. Spectacles of senseless violence in your opinion. The Emperors would shout and scream and whatever poor souls were sent to fight to the death. The knowledge that he took enjoyment from such brutality gave you everything you needed to know about him.

What you didn’t know however, was that during these games, the Emperor’s eyes would often wander to search for you in the crowd. It was not a particularly difficult task. You quite literally shined out amongst the mortal spectators, a sight more pleasing than the gory entertainment provided.

During one particular game, as your eyes scanned the box of senators and generals, attempting to distract yourself from the bloody battles below, your vision locked with him. He, like all men who were fortunate enough to gaze upon you, became mesmerized. Your soft skin, and graceful body made Geta dig his nails in the arms of his regal chair at his desire to have you.

“The Emperor has built me a new temple and has been consistently leaving offerings, being my most faithly worshiper, and in return I have decided to gift him the best thing a God can offer a mortal.”

At this, you shot up from your crouched position. “I am not a present to be offered.” You declared. “I don’t care if he built you a million temples, I would never marry such a man.” Anyone would be crazy to challenge a proclamation from a God, much less the king of them all. But you weren’t just anyone. Divine blood ran through your veins, and your fate would not be bound to a man as sadistic as him.

“You forget that you don’t have a say in this matter. I can think of worse lives than one as the empress of Rome.”

“Please.” Your anger had turned to desperation. “I am sure there are other ways to bless and reward Emperor Geta.”

Your father slowly started walking towards you as he spoke. “I have already promised the Emperor that you are to be his. And I am not one to turn back on an oath.”

You have never experienced such anger. Promising such a thing before even consulting with you. But a promise from God was as good as done.

“You need not fret about Geta. He wouldn’t dare hurt a daughter of Jupiter.” You scoffed. Of course your safety was in good hands, but that meant nothing for your happiness.

“I do hope your sentiment changes. I heard that the wedding is to be the grandest Rome has ever seen.” Another woman would have been bouncing up and down from glee. What you would give to trade places with her.

“You are to be formally presented to the Emperor tonight. Do make a good impression.” It was the last words your father spoke before a flash of lightning whisked him away to the heavens, leaving you and your racing thoughts alone.

***

You were escorted by your mother to the main hall where your husband-to-be stood there waiting. Upon hearing the news of your engagement, one might have thought it would be her to marry the emperor.

“To think that my own girl will soon be the empress of Rome.” She pressed her hand to her heart at the sentiment. “Gods know you were meant for such a life.”

Your heart was pounding as you made your way to the thrones. Eyes fighting back tears as your destiny awaits you.

“Emperors.” Your mother began, “may I present my daughter, y/n.” She practically shoved you in front of her, placing you front and center before the twin tyrants.

“Imperators.” You bowed your head softly at a feeble attempt to humble yourself.

Geta immediately shot up from his seat to approach you. Eager to get his hands on his eventual wife.

Taking several paces forward, you and the emperor’s face stood mere inches away from yours as his eyes scanned your face and body, relishing the sight in front of him.

“Oh yes, she will do quite nicely.” He uttered, sending a nervous chill up your spine. “Your father spoke far too little of how beautiful you are. But there are not enough offerings in the world to thank Jupiter for such a bride. I certainly look forward to having you by my side y/n.” His brown eyes left one more piercing gaze into yours before turning away with the rest of his advisors and senators.

You let your eyes close as you took a deep breath trying to calm your nerves.

He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You reminded yourself. You are a daughter of Jupiter, you are part God, there is no future that awaits you that you cannot handle.

***

Everything happened so fast. Within two days, your once peaceful life had turned to non stop preparations for the upcoming nuptials.

Even you had to admit, the dress given to you was lovely. Chosen by Geta himself, the handmaiden proclaimed as she adorned you in luxurious fabrics and gold.

You hardly recognized your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Despite you heritage, you never felt particularly better or more deserving than any other young Roman women. Or your life would be anything too out of the ordinary for a high born.

Looking back now, what a fool you have been. Your whole life, you have been a pawn in-waiting for the fastest man who had the resources to claim a divine bride. And who other than one of the emperors himself.

The next thing you knew, vows were spoken, music was playing, and every person around you was smiling and laughing, drunk off the finest wines in the Empire.

“You have hardly touched your food empress.” Geta spoke, drawing attention to the final word of his sentence.

“I am not a hungry imperator.” You responded, voice sounding as neutral as possible.

“We are married now, love. Geta will suffice.”

Unexpectedly. He placed his ringed hand on top of yours. “I do hope that your mother prepared you well for what to expect as a new wife.”

You shuddered as your muscles clenched. Of course you knew, your mother, along with the other ladies at court well explained to you what happens on a wedding night. But with the unexpectedness of it all and the hectic planning, the thought barely crossed your mind.

Turning to face him finally, you managed to croak out a response. “I am aware.”

“Splendid.” Geta squeezed your hand fervently. “I hope you know how lucky I am to have you as a bride.”

“Why me?” You blurted out. It was impossible to keep the question inside of you. “You could have had anyone. Someone to strengthen the growth of the Empire. Just because of my blood does not mean I will serve any use to you or Rome.” Your new husband smirked arrogantly.

“Our soldiers and generals are stronger than you think. I didn’t marry you for the sake of the Empire. We are already unstoppable. The second I laid my eyes on you in the Colosseum I knew I had to have you. Why do you think I built that damn temple in the first place? For fun?” Your breath got caught in your throat.

“Caracalla is throwing a fit at the fact that I get to have a divine bride.” He laughed, clearly amused with himself.

“To think that you are now all mine.” Before you knew it, he smashed his warm lips onto yours in a feaverent kiss.

“Enjoy the festivities my love.” He broke off the contact suddenly leaving you gasping in shock before turning to you one last time. “I promise what awaits you tonight will be even better.”

***

It was a warm night, but that did nothing to stop your chills. The party was still in full swing in the halls of the palace, but Geta was growing impatient to have you all to himself, alone.

You looked out the window and onto the streets. What you would give to be just an ordinary girl, but ordinary was never meant for you.

“Come here my love.” Geta grabbed your hand and made you face towards him. Like before, he pulled you in for another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, more needy.

As the kiss continued, Geta started to slowly strip away your clothes. His hands tugged at the ropes holding up your gown and it fell to your feet, leaving you completely exposed.

Once naked, he placed his hand on the back of your neck, lightly squeezing it. “All mine.” His gaze continued to relish the sight of you.

“Please.” You began. What you were pleading for, you didn’t know, but from what you have seen of the emperor, it was anyone’s guess what he was capable of.

“Don’t worry, empress, I will be gentle.” guiding you towards the bed, you laid down on the soft mattress, eyes shut so tight you felt they might never open. Perhaps you would be able to find some pleasure in this. From the few whispers you were able to snatch, the ladies of the palace spoke of great satisfaction and delight of their intimate moments with lovers and husbands. While the conditions are not to your liking, maybe there is something to be enjoyed.

At the foot of the bed, you could hear Geta’s heavy fabrics drop to the ground. A second later, he started climbing on top of you.

“There is no need to worry.” He whispered in your ear. “You are half god after all, I have every intention of treating you as such.”

His hands made their way down as his thumb started rubbing your clit gently.

A moan escaped your lips at the sensation. For the first time this night, your body started to relax, taking in the pleasurable sensation as your new husband had his way with you.

He soon stopped and his fingers traveled lower, towards your entrance as he slid a finger in and out tortuously.

“Wet already are we?” His question needed no response. Geta was clearly amused at his once reluctant bride now softly moaning right under him.

Once you finally felt adjusted, he slid a second finger in without warning, stretching you out even more as his pace continued while sounds of pleasure left your mouth. It felt like an eternity when he finally stopped.

“I’ve waited long enough to have you, I believe my patience has finally run out."

You dared to open your eyes and swallowed at the sight of his erect manhood, not knowing if your body was capable of consuming such a thing.

Before you had any time to prepare yourself, Geta already started making his way inside of you.

In one excruciatingly slow motion, the flaming haired emperor stretched you out to the limit as you arched your back.

Your eyes clenched shut again, trying to adjust to his size. His thrusts were slow, but the pain slowly faded away, replaced by a building pressuring in your sensitive area.

The thrusts started to pick up pace as you let out another groan. Soon, you felt his fingers touch your chin and lift it upwards.

“Look at me y/n.” He pleaded.

Your eyelids softened, but you did not fully open them, still unwilling to look at Geta in the eyes.

“Please.” His voice now desperate. Gone was the sadistic emperor you once knew.

At that, you finally opened your eyes and stared into his dark orbs. His movements became more wild, and the building pressure inside of you reached its climax as you released a sob of relief.

Geta followed soon after, collapsing on top of you as warm fluids filled your insides.

You painted, trying to come down from the incredible high you just experienced.

“I know you don’t love me.” Your husband said, voice a bit dry upon finishing the consummation. “But maybe one day you will.”

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor geta #joseph quinn #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #geta x reader

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amphitriteswife · 5 days ago

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Stay the night

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife reader

Warning: mild nudity, shits ass

Summary: Geta finds himself seeking your comfort once again after finding out about general Acacius’ betrayal.

Note: I love crying pathetic hurt Geta also its implied sex not the real thing yk

Geta feels conflicted. His hands pulling on his ginger colored hair. He was pacing back and forth between his bed and the door. His robe feels sticky because of the earlier sweat that had now turned cool. What should he do? What can he do? He feels nervous. No not even. He feels afraid. Where are you? He just put Caracalla to bed after his crash out against general Acacius and he felt suspicious of the Macrinus. He doesn’t know who to trust. Who speaks the truth? Who is genuinely on his side? Who is loyal? Who is actually helping him and not planning to overthrow him? He knows his position is weak. But he’s trying! He wants to rule along side his brother, but his disease makes it very hard to. His breath took up a pace and so did his steps. He got even more impatient with every second. He can hear his heart thumping in his ears. Were you asleep? Did you talk to the Macrinus? Did you also plan to overthrow him? To betray him? To take the throne he knows he isn’t fit for? No. He can’t think of you like that. You’re loyal to him. He knows it. He’s just being hysterical. You’ve always been there by his side. You were the bridge between him and the Roman citizens, you gave him advice to keep the people happy, to make sure they’re fed and safe even if it meant that the elites sometimes disagreed. Please come soon, his head felt as if it might explode from all the thoughts.

Luckily for him he finally heard the faint sounds of rinkels. His eyes immediately reacted to the sound. They were bells. Tiny bells. He recognized them instantly. Only you wore ankle bracelets with bells, a gift you had received from him on your wedding night. You wore it quite a lot and only took it off when you went to the bed house. His eyes caught the sight of your feet. Then your ankle bracelet and then finally to your face. You didn’t wear any make up and your hair was slightly disheveled. He woke you up with his summoning. He felt guilty…he feels selfish for calling you while you needed your own sleep too.

‘I’m sorry for waking you up empress.’

‘It’s fine…did you need something from me at this hour? emperor Geta?’

Your voice was groggy. It made him feel even more guilty. He took a few breaths before he sat down on the bed. A rather vulnerable silence followed before he started to speak in a soft voice. His eyes didn’t meet yours anymore and his head was slightly turned away as if he felt ashamed of what he was about to say. The hand that was gripping his robe seemed to tremble slightly. It was pitch black and the middle of the night. He shouldn’t be having a conversation with you. The both of you should’ve been asleep. Nothing about the betrayal should’ve even existed. He wishes it was all just a cruel prank. There must be a reason. Would he rather not have known? Or is it for the better? Why is it like this? What did he do wrong? What should he tell you? The truth? But it’ll only prove that he makes poor choices as an emperor.

‘Stay…just for tonight please?’

He sounds pathetic. He didn’t mean for his voice to break mid sentence. He didn’t mean to tear up. He wanted to keep it hidden. He didn’t want to tell you what wrong. He didn’t want to feel this way. He kept his head low. The crown was missing, it was just his wavy orange hair. The robe was slightly exposing part of his chest and body. The request sounded simple. In any other moment he would’ve demanded it from you. Ordered you to obey him. But now he hadn’t. Now it sounded small as if it could break. Even after you two were wed, you stayed in different rooms. Geta never minded it as he usually found his own company with others wherever he liked. He never asked you to be in his other than having intercourse what you usually declined.

‘Did something happen my Emperor?’

The question made him sniffle a bit and wipe his face. He really doesn’t want to tell you. He doesn’t want to he weak in front of you. Both of his hands grabbed your robe. His own falling open in the middle of it. He looked at you with a rather pleading gaze. His eyes blood shot red and a his cheeks were a little glistening because of his tears. His hands wete trembling slightly yet he hadn’t said a single word. You didn’t really know what is was, shame to ask for help? Embarrassment? Well, it didn’t really matter which one. As long as he didn’t cry anymore.

‘I…don’t wish to think about such matters more than I already do empress, as long as you’re here…it’s more than enough for me.’

Those words made you raise an eyebrow. So there is something wrong but he just isn’t ready to tell you now. Got it. He’s also tugging on your hand like soke kid. How cute. Despite the pathetic and disheveled state he is in, he’s rather cute. Like a puppy. You wouldn’t tell him that ofcourse. It’s not like you’re sadistic. Your hands reached out for his, letting your fingertips glide across his knuckled which made him loosen his grip. He took a few breaths before he finally let go of your robe and sat back on the bed. He guided you to also join him in his bed which was bug enough for the both if you. He laid back on the bed, his eyes looking at the ceiling and his robe still open.

‘Please make me forget about it all, my empress.’

#gladiator #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #geta #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader

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asvtrials · 5 days ago

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𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

Emperor Geta x fem!reader, minors dni!

summary: Emperor Geta was a selfish lover. He expected you to give him everything, every thread of your being, body, and soul. Yet he refused to do the same. Why would he? He was the Emperor and you were nothing but his concubine, not too long ago you were a common whore that he just happen to take a liking to, just a vessel for his satisfaction. So why was his mind suddenly screaming for him to kneel before you, to let your thighs straddle his face until he suffocates? warnings/tags: smut, mention of an orgy in the beginning, mention of exhibitionism, generally ancient Rome things, Emperor Geta tries to act unbothered but is smitten for his concubine, facesitting, oral (f! receiving), p in v, kind of rough, sub/dom dynamics (obviously), implied abuse, potentially out of character, not accurate to the Gladiator franchise...

a/n: This man is consuming my thoughts. This is me basically pushing my pussy drunk Geta agenda. I love the idea of Emperor Geta being arrogant and selfish but caving at the idea of hearing her scream and moan as loudly as that woman. 'Mae Columba' means my dove, 'Corculum' means sweetheart. Also, this is my first time writing this man

tags: @teechallas-blog @ladynoonwraith @quuinyoung @ghostinhours @slasherflickchick @marn13s-vilewhispers @munsongirl48 @getas-empress @hillarymurray4 @cleo-2345 @lookingformuses @meganfoxismywife @claa-01 @funsquadgoalzz-blog w/c: 3.3k English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes I make. I tried present tense for the first time.

── ��ৎ

Your thin tunic provides you with little to no warmth, yet you weren't cold even on this chilly night.

Your Emperor's hand runs up and down your right side, his fingers keep grazing your nipple but he is too focused on conversing with Macrinus to notice the impact of his action.

Your eyes wander around the room, from the people who drank, smoked, and laughed, too gone to do anything other than that, to the numerous naked, sweaty bodies intertwined with each other in the most intimate way that was humanly possible.

Yet there was nothing intimate about what you observe. It was primal and carnal, most of them didn't even look like people anymore, the scene becoming too animalistic and raw.

These types of gatherings were rather common in the Palatine and you have gotten used to settings like this one. But this time you couldn't take your eyes off of two people. Two prostitutes amongst the crowd of moving bodies caught your attention.

A woman sitting on top of a man, on his face… The expression of pure bliss she had looks like it was taken out of a vulgar painting, a carefully crafted sculpture depicting the most euphoric moment of one's life. The man's tongue works meticulously on the woman’s cunt making her scream and moan like she was touched by the god's themselves.

The sight was enough for your breath to get caught in your throat.

That made Emperor Geta turn with a frown, some wine dripping from his full lips. You don’t notice that his eyes travel the path of your gaze, focusing on the same pair as you.

You snap back to reality when his hand gripped your thigh. If you weren't used to his rough touches you would yelp in pain.

When you meet his eyes, there's something behind them that makes you pause. Without a second glance, he turns back to his conversation, leaving you confused. But you don’t miss the way his hand slides further between your legs, almost teasingly.

It wasn't unusual for him to touch you in front of everyone, be it in these types of events or when the gladiator fights bored him to the point where he ordered you to get on your knees and ‘entertain’ him yourself.

But this time, his thumb merely grazes the thin fabric of your tunic between your legs as his hands grip your exposed thigh. Possessively.

Your mind started to race. Did you anger him? Was he upset?

You are in a room filled with naked bodies fucking each other like animals and it never angered him before when you watched. Sometimes you would even comment how ‘sloppy’ their technique was and he would chuckle. So what happened now?

You lean on his side, sliding your hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. He doesn’t react but he doesn’t push you away either. That feels like a win, an opening.

After being his concubine for so long you learned how to behave around him, how to slither your way out of trouble in case you had upset him.

A little touch here, a kiss there, a plea for forgiveness honeyed with praises about how good he is to you along with some dick sucking usually does the trick.

Geta was an emperor but he was also a man with a very big ego. You quickly understood that as much as it is a nuisance it could also become an advantage.

By the time you followed him to his chambers, it was well past midnight.

He had made it a habit to share a bed with you, not even the guards looked surprised anymore.

He walks inside the moment the guards open the heavy doors. He reaches for his golden belt with a heavy sigh but you quickly stop him. “Let me, my Emperor.” You speak, your voice soft. You quickly approach him and meet his stern gaze, waiting for his approval.

Geta lets go of the belt, letting his arms fall to his sides. He looks spent and tired from the long day but you could sense something else frustrating him.

Carefully, you undo his belt, feeling his shoulders relax at the loss of the heavy material. Your eyes travel up his body before finally meeting his gaze through your lashes but you are met with the same cold look from before.

You take a step back to settle the belt on the table. You aren’t sure if you should approach him again. You expected him to kiss you, to touch you while you were so close but he didn't do either. He just watched you with a raised brow and gritted teeth.

You avert your gaze, focusing on the detailed carvings of the table ignoring the fact that you had seen it a million times before.

You hear his sandals brush against the marble floor, making you shiver. You weren't sure what to expect, he hasn't looked this displeased with you in a long while.

“Mae Columba” ‘My dove’ he says, his voice barely above a whisper but it still held the authority of an Emperor. “Do you know why you wear such lavish cloths?” He asks, not expecting you to answer before continuing, his voice dropping “Why do you smell as good as you smell? Why do golden jewels hang from your ears and wrap around your wrists? Why you aren't passed around my soldiers like a common whore?”

He was right behind you now, his arms coming to cage you between him and the table.

His harsh words forced tears to collect on your lash line. You took a deep breath but your voice still quivered as you spoke. “Because you're the Emperor…”

“Because I'm the Emperor.” He repeats softly against your ear, yet there is no softness in his tone. “Then why do you wish for me to become someone else?”

“I don—”

“Lies!” He shouts, making you flinch away.

You don't dare to face him, remaining turned to him as his hands start to wander down your sides. “I saw how you looked at those filthy commoners…you were entranced, my dove”

“My Emperor I—”

“Have I not done enough for you?” He whispered, but his quiet tone gave you no comfort. His hands moved to your clothed chest, squeezing your breasts mercilessly.

A small whine escapes your lips, your back arching against him. “You gave me everything, my Emperor.” You manage to say through rugged breaths.

He hums pleased. “Clearly not enough since you wish to see me between your legs like a filthy whore.” He murmurs against your ear.

“No!” You yelp, grabbing his forearms after he squeezes your breasts particularly hard.

Your thighs meet in an attempt to soothe the aching between your legs. “I promise.”

“You promise?” He asks, his tone dripping with disbelief and mockery.

“Yes! I promise.” You reply quickly, desperation seeping out of your words.

“On the bed.” he commands lowly and you comply without words.

The bed was thrice the size of the bed you used to sleep in, soft with satin sheets and numerous pillows. A bed that an emperor deserved. You weren't sure if you deserved it, yet here you were, lying on the Emperor's sheets like you did many other times.

He looms over your lying figure eyes rolling down every curve of your body like a wolf eyeing a little lamb. His favorite little lamb.

The one that he never feasts upon but rather chases around until the poor thing is spent and exhausted and pliant for him to bite all he wants.

Geta’s hands find your ankles and he pulls you to him, earning a surprised yelp from you. He crawls to you, entrapping you between his arms once again.

He melts against your mouth, lips moving harshly against yours, refusing to give you a second to breathe. You cry loudly when his teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“My Emperor” you moan against his rough endeavors but he doesn’t stop, you aren’t sure if he even heard you. He was too busy squeezing your already bruising flesh, not even bothering to remove your tunic.

Red liquid escapes from the wound that Geta so eagerly opened. The metallic taste travels to your mouth but he doesn’t seem to mind, and as much as it scares you, neither do you. Instead, you claw at his back breathlessly repeating your words “My Emperor…Let me show you my devotion.”

Geta studies you, his big eyes making him look almost innocent under the dim candlelight.

His lips open to speak his mind, your spit and blood coating them but instead of speaking, he gently caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, smearing the blood.

What are these thoughts? These foolish ideas that plague his mind? His gaze couldn’t deter from your tearful eyes as he let his thumb run down your chin, the faint color of the blood following along.

You were so easy to break, to tear apart and carve as you pleased. He always did just that.

Yet you always came back.

You didn’t have a choice, he wasn’t foolish enough to forget that. But still, you looked at him with a particular dedication that Gate couldn’t quite comprehend.

Basically, involuntarily he whispers, letting his palm rest on the side of your face “You’ve proven your devotion, corculum. You’ve been so good…” Geta leans closer, his nose pressing your cheek. He breathes in your scent, fighting the urge to squeeze your face with his fingers.

Your breath hitches when he pushes his thumb past your inviting lips and he feels a moan threaten to spill when you sucked on his digit immediately. He couldn’t uncover any thoughts behind your eyes, only lust. Lust for him. Just like he lusted you.

Why is his breath coming out so short, why is his heart threatening to jump from his chest and into your arms? He isn’t even inside you yet and he feels like he can’t think properly.

You weren’t quiet during your shared activities but Geta was always too focused on his own selfish pleasure, rarely caring about yours.

But right now he feels the inexplicable urge to make you scream his name, to make everyone in the palace know, everyone in Rome, the urge to get on his knees and worship you just to get the blessing of your sounds in return.

Oh, you were sent by Venus herself, there was no doubt. There was no other explanation for his crazed thoughts.

The whine that he brings from you when he pulls his hand away burns something deep in his chest. He quickly yanks at his clothes, uncovering his naked, toned body.

Your eyes don’t dare to travel down but you find yourself on your fours, crawling to him. You press your lips to his stomach, tracing his toned body with your lips and tongue softly, teasingly.

A low growl leaves Geta from deep within his throat as he runs his hand through your hair, nearly gently before he grips your locks. He pulls your head back forcing your eyes to meet his, the sudden harshness causing you to freeze.

“You are an enchantress, aren’t you? You have turned me into a madman.” He mutters softly, his tone almost despairing as his blunt nails massage your scalp.

Looking up at him through your lashes you blink, unsure of what to say. Was this an indictment? It sounded more like a statement.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing, my Emperor.” You say softly.

He hums quietly, eyes falling to your legs and he has to swallow hard.

He has seen you like this so many times, and yet you left him speechless every time. From the first time he had bed you, you had left him speechless. Put a spell on him the moment he pushed his cock inside your warm, dripping cunt.

His mind told him to pound you against the mattress as hard as he could, so that every time your core throbbed tomorrow you would remember how vile it was for you to imagine him, your Emperor, between your thighs.

But his body betrayed him. He leans in, his bottom lip grazing your inner thigh.

“I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me, mae columba” He whispers, so quietly that you could miss it if your senses weren’t so heightened.

He released a quivering breath before pressing his lips on your skin. You gasp at the action, gripping the smooth sheets. The feeling of your flushed skin against his lips was exhilarating, it was the beginning of something that he wasn’t sure he could control.

Without a second thought, his mouth starts to bruise your thighs fervently, his teeth plunging into your flesh like you were his last meal before the guillotine.

Your moans and cries fill the room and Geta’s heart as he continues to mark your thighs, his intensity matching a starved wolf.

He wanted more. He was insatiable, he was always insatiable.

With a swift movement, he flips the both of you. You yelp in surprise, as you land on his chest, your legs spread apart.

His head finds the soft mattress but he wouldn’t care even if it was the hard floor. All he could focus on was your clothed core, inches away from his face.

“My Emperor!” You begin. You weren’t sure what to say, how are you even supposed to react to such a scene?

Rome’s Emperor gazing at you between your thighs, looking as famished as ever.

“Quiet.” He growls, his arms coming to wrap around your thighs. His hands slowly travel up your body, dragging your tunic with his fingers revealing more of your skin.

Your naked cunt was inches away from his face, his breath hitting your soaked folds sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes couldn’t leave your core, mouth watering at the sight. Impatient, you peel off the dress, revealing your naked body.

It was a pattern whenever you were around him. But this time it didn’t make your cheeks burn about being so vulnerable before his ravenous gaze. On the contrary, it made your chest flutter with satisfaction as you lay on top of one of Rome’s brutal Emperors.

No warning was given to you before he harshly pulled you down to him. His tongue lays flat against your pussy, emitting a desperate sound from you. Soon enough he was lost in the feeling of your wetness. There was no point in fighting your spell anymore, he was already hypnotized.

Your eyes can’t leave his face. The way he loses himself so eagerly forces your breath to become shallow and desparate.

His tongue laps on your cunt sloppily, and your juices run down his chin though he never wavers, not even for a second. His mouth worked against your folds like he wanted to consume you whole, to drain you of your essence.

“Gods!” You moan loudly, throwing your head back. “My Emperor!” You cry out.

He whimpers against your pussy, he fucking whimpers. You aren’t sure if you can hold on much longer after that. It seems like any fear or shame you had abandoned your body because you start to rock your hips against his face, his nose brushing against clit with every move.

“I can’t take it anymore, my Emperor—” you gasp, your body trembling uncontrollably.

He grabs your waist, his nails digging into your skin possesively. He pulls you even closer to him, if that is even possible, his tongue running over your folds callously.

Your climax came to you like a violent wave, your body shakes violently after your release. Geta doesn’t stop though, his tongue collecting your fluids even if you jolted and whined.

He only stopped when he had nothing else to take. Like always.

You fall to the side, your mouth agape as you pant frenziedly. Geta isn’t looking any better, his slick-covered lips are parted slightly and his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Gods…” You breathe out.

Geta finally finds his strength again, moving to position himself above you. His burning body pressed against your side, his lips brushing your temple. “Where the gods between your legs, corculum?”

“That’s what it felt like” You whisper and he fought the urge to smirk.

“Turn around.” He orders lowly, the playfulness draining from his voice.

With all the strength left in you, you comply, turning around to lie on your chest. You gasp when the Emperor effortlessly lifts your thighs off the mattress.

You whine at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your dripping cunt.

With one forceful push he’s inside your tight walls and you scream. Your nails rake at the satin sheets as he grunts at the warmness that envelops his cock. “You always feel so good, my dove. Like you were made for me” He groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“P-perhaps I was” You moan, the sound muffled by the sheets, your eyes nearly rolling back.

He sneers lowly. “Always know just what to say. How to bewitch me with your words…”

You yelp when you feel his hand clutch your jaw and pull you backward. Your back slams against his hard chest. He draws his hips back making you whine at the feeling of his dick slipping away before slamming it back inside. He did it again and again until you were crying and clawing at his hand.

“My Emperor!” You cry out and if it wasn’t for his strong hands you would’ve fallen forward.

His cock hits you so deep, so good you can’t help the tears that run down your flushed cheeks and the lewd cries that fall from your lips still they aren’t nearly as lewd as the wet, sloppy sounds that follow after every intense thrust.

His own grunts are so loud against your ear that you swear you can come from the sounds he’s making alone. It was never this intimate with Geta, so close. He usually pushes your head against the pillows and fucks you into the mattress like an animal. You rarely see his face or hear his sounds other than the harsh words he spews at you.

Your back arches at the harshness of his thrusts, and your head falls on his shoulder. His hand slides down to your core. You feel his smirk against your ear when he flicks your clit and you flinch.

“Geta!” You scream his name as you come for a second time for the night, your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

If your brain wasn't mushed from pleasure you would slap a hand over your mouth, bracing yourself for his palm landing on your cheek.

He grabs your face and turns your head to face him. The moment your eyes meet you know there won’t be any repercussions for your defiance. His pupils are so blown to the point where you couldn’t locate the light brown of his iris. He pulls you for a heated kiss and with one last, mind-numbing thurst he spills his seed deep inside you.

He falls forward and pulls you with him. You fall on all your fours, his chest falling flush on your back. You whimper when his cock moves inside your overstimulated pussy with the movement.

Geta’s breath was hot against your shoulder and his hands squeezed your waist occasionally, seemingly without noticing.

“My Emperor,” You breathed out. “Forgiv—”

“Quiet.” He rasped, silencing you immediately.

He threw the both of you to the side, pulling you closer to him by the waist.

That day Geta, with his dick deep inside you, realized two things. That you have probably enchanted him and that he didn’t care one bit.

Because if being bewitched meant that he would spend his living days between your legs, getting drunk on you, then he would gladly do it.

#emperor geta #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #emperor geta smut #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta x y/n #gladiator ii #gladiator movie #gladiator ll #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n

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ho-for-joequinn-fics · 5 months ago

Text

Rage, Ropes, and Release

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

Emperor Geta x wife!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x f!reader #emperor geta x wife!reader #emperor geta x empress!reader #sadist!emperor geta x masochist!reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta smut #emperor geta #gladiator 2

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