Summary: All husbands must love their wives. The Emperor was no exception.
In the magnificence of Ancient Rome, there existed a love story that defied expectations.
It revolved around Emperor Geta, a notorious figure known for his insatiable thirst for blood in the gladiator games, and his beloved wife, a gentle soul who despised violence.
As the sun cast its golden glow upon the Colosseum, Geta and his wife, you, found yourselves surrounded by a roaring crowd, eagerly awaiting the sensation that unfolded before you.
Gladiator games.
The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of sweat mixed with the metallic smell of blood.
While Geta enjoyed the brutality of the games, you struggled to moderate your own emotions with the darkness of said games.
Amidst the clamour and the rising heat, you felt a wave of sickness washing over you. You were sitting beside Geta, his brother watching from his own chair.
The sight of blood and the overbearing atmosphere became too much for your heart to bear.
Your face paled, and your breathing grew shallow.
As if sensing your distress, Geta turned to you.
With a concerned look, Geta gently took your shaking hand in his own.
He led you away from the frenzy, finding comfort in a secluded corner where the noise of the Colosseum was muted and it was a bit colder.
His voice, soft and soothing, whispered words of comfort and love into her ear.
"My Darling. It is probably way too hot for you, and also the blood. I know how much you dislike it."
"Geta. I'm sorry." you whispered as you finally felt like you could breathe.
"No need for it. I only wished for you to share the same love for the games as I do. But I see it now, this really is not for you."
"I'm truly sorry." Moved by his tenderness, you looked into his eyes, realizing the depth of his affection.
At that moment, Geta sealed his devotion with a tender kiss on your forehead.
It was a gesture that spoke volumes, an affirmation of his love for you.
As the night arrived in Rome, Geta and you retired to your chambers after dinner.
The flickering candlelight danced upon your faces, illuminating the room with a warm glow.
It all filled your heart with such happiness.
You believed, that in this room, you were only a wife and a husband, nothing less, nothing more.
No Rome, no power, no titles.
Just a man and a woman.
Geta, captivated by the beauty and kindness in you, watched you as you peacefully slept.
The Emperor rolled onto his side watched your face in the candlelight as you faced him.
Overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions, he was awestruck by the fortunate turn of fate that had brought you together.
Even if it wasn't fate. It was all him.
His selfish nature declared you as his wife the moment your eyes met his.
But in that moment, he realized that his love for you had transformed him. Softening the edges of his bloodthirsty nature and revealing a gentler side.
With a heart full of appreciation, Geta whispered silent words of adoration into the night.
He vowed to cherish you, to protect you from the darkness that lurked beyond the chambers.
And so, your love story continued to unfold, defying the expectations of a bloodthirsty emperor and his gentle wife.
It was the kind of love that exceeded history.
People the upcoming centuries learned about the brutal Emperor Geta and his beloved wife.
Summary: Geta is worried when his wife develops a fever and becomes unwell. But when something horrid happens to their son, he all but loses his mind.
Enjoy.
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"Papa!"
The tiredness that was clawing away at Geta's eyes faded somewhat when that small but excited voice reached his ears and made him pause in his tracks.
He turned and paused where he was, waiting for the six year old to catch him up in the long hallway.
As soon as he was within reach, Felix locked his arms around Geta's middle and clung to him like he thought someone was going to try and tear them apart forever. His face burrowed into the silver robes Geta was wearing and his force almost knocked his father backwards.
A grin slowly worked its way onto Geta's lips and he looped an arm around the back of Felix's slender shoulders. But when he looked around, his eyes narrowed sceptically. There was no one else in the long corridor with them. Where had his boy suddenly appeared from, and why was he on his own?
"Where are you going?" There was a certain tone to Geta's slow words, showing that he wasn't convinced this was a coincidence to run into his son like this. It was midday, Felix was supposed to be in his tutoring lessons until the sun was aiming towards the West.
Both Geta and Caracalla hadn't done as good in their schooling as they should, they hadn't paid enough attention and their father hadn't been the most influencing or caring person. He cared more to petrify and let his rage out on the twins than whether or not they were learning and prepared to rule. Geta wasn't having the same thing happen with his son. He wanted Felix well versed, learned, and prepared for when it was his time to rule Rome.
"To find you." There was a certain grin on his face as his slender chin jutted into Geta's abdomen that suggested his tutor didn't know that was Felix's intention.
"Where's your guard?" The shrug he got in response was not welcomed and Geta sighed. "You aren't to go anywhere alone, do you hear me?"
When he cupped Felix's cheek in his palm, he gently tapped his fingers against Felix's ear to try and get the message through to him and make sure he was listening.
He told the guards time and time again that if Felix wandered off anywhere, they were to follow him. He didn't want his son anywhere in the palace or Gods forbid, out in Rome, without protection. He needed at least one guard to be with him at all times.
Anything could happen to him, the palace was safe but it wasn't inpenitrable and there could be enemies within the palace walls. Wolves in sheep's clothing. Geta wouldn't put anything past some of the men on the council who opposed to his and Caracalla's rule.
"Sorry papa."
With a quiet hum, Geta leant forward and pressed a kiss to Felix's brow and pressed his hand in between his boy's shoulders. He was a second away from saying that he would escort Felix back to his tutoring lesson, but his boy beat him to the mark.
"Can you take me to see mama?" The way he spoke with such a pleading look in his eyes and a beaming, hopeful smile caused shivers to course up and down Geta's spine.
"Now you know mama isn't well-"
"But I want to see her, just for a little while. Papa please?"
He gnawed on his lip as he thought over such a pleading request and stared down at those doe eyes that were a carbon copy of (Y/n)'s and combined with Geta's ginger hair that was dampened with the humidity in the air.
He knew that Felix wasn't happy about not seeing (Y/n) for almost two days now, but it was for a good reason.
(Y/n) hadn't been well, she had succumbed to a fever that the healers were desperately trying to break. They kept reassuring Geta that it wasn't the Roman fever that spread throughout the city, they seemed to think that it was just a reaction to being run down, a side effect from being five months along with child.
Geta didn't want Felix seeing (Y/n) when she wasn't well, the six year old was attached to both parents and it would frighten him to see her barely lucid and unable to get out of bed, fighting a fever that the maids and healers were trying to break. And he certainly didn't want Felix too close in case this ended badly and (Y/n) lost the child.
"Please?"
But, Geta supposed that (Y/n) was getting a little better, she was in fact awake and lucid today as opposed to yesterday where she could barely stay awake. Geta had spent the day yesterday and through the night by her side, refusing to leave in case something happened. But she had been better this morning, enough for him to leave her side and return to the council this morning.
As long as (Y/n) was feeling well enough and Felix didn't get too worried or overwhelming, then Geta supposed a few minutes with her wouldn't be so bad.
"Come on then, but not for long. Mama still needs to rest and get better."
His hand remained on Felix's shoulder as they approached the stairs and slowly made their ascent to go and find (Y/n). Not that it would be hard to find her, considering she would most likely still be in their chambers; Geta wouldn't be pleased if she wasn't. She needed to rest and if she was up and about, over-exherting herself then the guards and servants would have Hell to pay.
(Y/n) was on the verge of falling asleep when the doors were thrown open and a familiar flock of hair the same shade as the setting sun came wafting into sight.
Her lips curled into a tired smile and her arms opened immediately, beckoning her boy towards her. That was all the encouragement Felix needed to break away from Geta and clamber onto the bed.
He sank onto his knees and leant forward, both arms looping around (Y/n)'s neck as she hooked her arms around him and pressed a flushed kiss to his cheek.
It felt like she hadn't seen Felix in weeks, years even, and having him back in her arms was calming compared to the stress of the last few days. (Y/n) allowed herself to sink back into the pillows scattered around the bed and let Felix lean along with her, his chin perched on her shoulder and his arms still looped around her rather delicately.
"How are you feeling, mama?"
"Much better now."
"My Lady, please…"
The pleading tone to the maid's voice was clear, but it didn't do much to dissuade (Y/n) in any direction.
Her tired eyes roamed over the maid who was roughly her age, if not a little bit younger. She was chewing on her lower lip so much she was going to cause herself harm and her beady eyes kept darting back in the direction of the chamber door which they had just come out of.
She wanted (Y/n) ton go back to her chambers, to go back to bed. Well that wasn't what she wanted to do.
(Y/n) didn't want to lay in bed any longer. She had been cooped up for three days, and the longer she stayed there, the less likely she was going to be to get out of bed and get her energy back. The fever might not have gone yet, but it certainly wasn't as bad as it had been two nights ago when Geta had run for the healers in a panic.
A little walk wasn't going to do (Y/n) any harm and besides, she wanted to see her boys. She had barely seen Felix this week, that small visit yesterday hadn't been much when (Y/n) had still been so weak and tired that she fell asleep shortly after and then when she awoke, both he and Geta were nowhere in sight. And the council were forever stealing Geta away from her.
So a bit of fresh air, a slither of sunlight and seeing her family might just do her the world of good. Or even she could go and visit Caracalla, he was good company when he wasn't in one of his raging moods, and he tended to mellow out when (Y/n) was around.
"I need a short walk, and I won't go far."
"But the Emperor wants you to rest."
"He wants me to get better, and a walk will help. You don't have to accompany me." There wa sno malice or ignorance in (Y/n)'s voice as she looked at the maid over her shoulder.
Geta wanted her to recover from this fever and sickness, surely he wouldn't begrudge her a short walk and some fresh air, especially if he thought it would do her some good and boost her spirits. The maid didn't have to come along for the walk, she could go about her duties and pretend she didn't know that the Empress had gone for a wander if she was worried about what Geta would say or do.
She gave a little mewl of uncertainty before quickly following (Y/n) out of the room. It seemed safer to go with her than to wait around and fret. If the Empress lost energy quick or became unwell, at least she could help get her back to her chambers to rest.
The walk was slow and steady and (Y/n) was reminded of how she felt when she had been pregnant with Felix. By the end of her pregnancy she had barely been allowed out of her chambers and told confinement was the best course of action to make sure her and the 'heir to Rome' were safe.
Anywhere she had gone, any move she had made when having Felix, had been scrutinised and carefully shrouded with healers and maids.
Her hand ghosted across her stomach as she wondered if things would be like that again when she was nearer her term with this child. Rome already had the heir they wanted with Felix, as far as they were concerned, they thought (Y/n) had done her duty. There wouldn't be as much concern and hope riding on this pregnancy when they already had a healthy heir they were nurturing.
By the time she reached the quarters where Felix always had his tutoring lessons, (Y/n) felt like someone was slowly thumping her head with a hammer. Her skin was vibrating with the beat of her heart and a light sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. The fever hadn't broken its elusive grip on her just yet.
Her hand gripped the door with vice pressure, leaning against the large smooth wood to prop herself up as she glanced around the room. The sunlight was blinding, but it was good to feel the rays on her skin when for the last few days, her world had been shrouded in darkness. Drapes pulled across so the room was cast in shadows in hope to keep the cool air in and break the fever that gripped her.
There was no sign of Felix.
"Empress, how may I help you?" Tutor Carius clasped both hands in front of him and bowed when he saw (Y/n) standing just over the threshold to the room.
Most people in the palace were either sickly sweet towards (Y/n) or petrified around her. They feared doing something wrong and feeling Geta's wrath upon them; if he thought someone had looked at his Empress the wrong way, they would be dismissed immediately.
"Is Felix finished with his lesson?"
The look she received in return wasn't one that filled (Y/n) with much confidence. Carius pursed his lips with his brows furrowed down like he was trying hard not to look too unwelcoming or confused in case it gave repercussions.
"He's- he's not here, Empress. I believe the Emperor sent for him, so his lessons are over for the day."
"Oh, thank you."
With a tight-lipped smile, (Y/n) pushed off from the door she was leaning against and turned around. She didn't say anything when the maid held onto her elbow for stability and security because although she didn't want to be leaning on anyone, (Y/n) knew it was probably a good idea nonetheless.
"Are we going to find the Emperor now, my Lady?"
With a hum and a nod of her head, (Y/n) forced a small smile onto her lips as they made another slow walk down the long hallway cast in hundreds of unfamiliar stretching shadows.
Oh, to be anywhere else but here.
Geta would never wish for (Y/n) to be ill or in danger or hurt under any circumstance, his heart couldn't handle it. But he must admit that it had been a strain and a relief to be by her side the last few days and not have to deal with any of the council or the Senates.
They didn't bother him when he remained vigil by (Y/n)'s side, they seemed to understand that he wasn't going to leave her when she was in peril and so unwell like she had been. They knew daring to drag him away from her would end in heads rolling.
Now he was back, on his way to find the Senates in a meeting that would drag into eternity, and his brother wasn't anywhere in sight. Apparantly Caracalla was in one of his frightful moods where not even the concubines could calm him down. It had been agreed to leave him stewing in his room than to try and bring him into this meeting.
Chances were that he wouldn't be coherent even if they did get him here, and he would be a hinderence rather than a help.
As had become his new habit, Geta beegan to spin one of the many gold rings he wore, around his index finger in slow agonising circles. Something to keep his mind occupied and rid the energy from his system so he didn't end up snapping at any of the Senates.
He could feel the blood slowly draining out of him when he watched Macrinus aim in his direction. He was someone Geta would rather not deal with. A man who was pushy at the best of times and often hid behind other people to get what he wanted and not take the blame for anything he did. Someone who liked to persuade people to his ideals, though it hadn't worked so far with Geta.
Geta kept Macrinus at arms length to keep them all safe, and he tried his best to make sure that the elder man didn't get too near Caracalla and drip his poison into his brother's ear. But Geta couldn't guard Caracalla all of the time, and his brother was suceptible when he was in certain moods.
With a deep breath that made his shoulders rise and strain, Geta straightened his spine and force himself to look mellow, pliable and unconcerned. He had to put on a mask when he was around most of the council, it was the only way to fool them into not having any control over him.
His steps slowed down and he looked around the vast hall, wanting someone else to embroil him into boring conversation or tell him something pressing so he didn't have to speak to Macrinus.
All he saw were the men aiming into the great hall for their approaching meeting, and the small square garden in the centre of the palace, to Geta's left.
That snagged his attention.
His footsteps came to a stop and he turned slightly to the left, head angling to the right as he looked out at the small garden. Geta wasn't so fond of wandering aimlessly through the vast gardens behind the palace, but he did often sit in that particular patch of garden because it was so close to the meeting halls and it was where he often found his wife.
She had a thing for the fountain in the middle of the square, which Geta often stared at when they were out there. Which was how he knew something wasn't right with it at this very moment.
"What is the reason for that?"
"Emperor?" A servant who had been hovering like a pestering fly near Geta all morning, stepped forward with a blank expression and a look of unease in his eyes.
He didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at or what was supposed to be the issue with the gardens. His eyes followed the Emperor who sighed through his nose and took one shallow step closer to the open doorway leading out into the garden.
"I don't remember asking for wine to be added to the fountain." He grunted, swiftly pointing to the fountain before he looked back at the servant whose name he couldn't remember. He never knew their names; that was (Y/n)'s skill, not his.
There was blushing pink and dark crimson water spilling through the fountain, and Geta knew he had not asked for wine to be added there like they had previously done when having a celebration here at the palace. When they didn't have many guests here to enjoy it, adding wine to the fountain was simply a waste of resources and diluted it to an awful runny taste after only five minutes.
"I… I don't know about that, Emperor."
Somehow Geta didn't think he would.
He bit down on the corner of his mouth and shook his head before he turned, supposing that he'd best go and get this meeting over and done with.
Until his eyes snagged on a frame that would always stick out to Geta even in the biggest crowd in Rome. A figure he could always see burned behind his eyelids and seared into his mind; the one person who Geta worshipped more than any Gods in the universe.
(Y/n). What was she doing down here? Why wasn't she in bed, resting and recouperating like she was supposed to be?
"Geta, where is Felix?"
Her voice was soft like silk and Geta had the greatest urge to go over to her and wrap his arms around her, to pull her into his arms and kiss her and tell her she shouldn't be here, she shouldn't even be out of bed. But he could feel Macrinus aiming towards him and he knew the meeting was about to start. The council would be hounding him at any moment if he didn't go.
He could see the flicker of an exhausted smile forming on her lips as she looked at him, clearly not coming over to him because she knew he was busy and she didn't want to get in the way. As if he would ever think that she of all people would be in the way. (Y/n) might be a distraction to Geta, but she was always a welcomed one.
"Not here love, no he's with the tutor, and you shouldn't be up walking. Take her back to rest." His hand wafted in the direction of the maid stood dutifully at (Y/n)'s side.
As much as he wanted to gather her into his arms, he couldn't, and she needed to be resting before she over-exherted herself and made herself ill. Geta would call the guards to escort her back if he had to and he would fetch the healers too who were remaining in the palace in case of any further emergencies.
"Emperor, we're long overdue for the meeting with the council." Macrinus reached out a withered hand until he grasped onto Geta's elbow, both to gain his attention and to try and pull him in the direction of the hall for their meeting that Geta couldn't care less about.
"Alright I know I'm late." His arm yanked out of Macrinus's grip as his jaw snapped like a crocodile.
"No, he…" the words trailed off on (Y/n)'s tongue and she felt the maid holding onto her arm and waist, gently trying to turn her back in the direction of the stairs so they could leave.
But why would Geta say that Felix was with the tutor when he wasn't? Didn't he call for Felix after all? Had they talked and then Geta sent him back to his studies? Had she and Felix crossed paths or just missed one another?
She could always call the guards and ask them to bring Felix to her chambers since she was feeling more lively than she had yesterday. Then she could see her boy and be with him while she rested and didn't worry Geta or the healers.
She allowed the maid to turn her in the other direction, but he feet rooted to the spot when her eyes glossed over the water fountain out in the garden.
Something didn't look right.
The back of her hand brushed over her temple, trying in vain to smear away the sweat glistening like crystals on her skin before her hand moved down to rest on her stomach. She turned and began to walk slowly towards the garden, a slight detour wouldn't make much difference and she could find out why the servants had made changes with the fountain.
She could feel the maid right behind her, following as if she thought (Y/n) was too weak to stand. Perhaps in a little while she would be, with how much energy it took to walk around the palace when on a usual day (Y/n) could do three laps around the vast gardens and not feel tired or run down like this.
What was wrong with the water?
Shudders tore down Geta's back like daggers imbedding in his skin and raking down to his heels when that guttural scream wracked through his system and lodged itself in his heart.
His pupils expanded like he had taken a dose of opium and he spun on his heels, shrugging away from Macrinus as he scanned around. A petrified look crossed his pale features as he tried to lock his gaze onto his wife to know what had made her scream so horribly like that.
There was never usually cause for (Y/n) to shriek and scream like that, to sound like her heart had been impaled and the world was crumbling around her. The last time Geta recalled hearing her sound like that was when she gave birth to Felix.
When his sights finally set on his wife, dread, peril and confusion were all he could sense and understand.
She was scrambling towards the fountain, but before she got close enough, (Y/n) fell to her knees. The gravel stuck to her dress and scraped against her knees and the palms of her hands as she tried to drag herself closer to the fountain for reasons unknown to everyone around her.
No words found their way past Geta's lips as he set into a frantic run, feeling the mid afternoon breeze whip and cut against his skin as he aimed for his wife.
He couldn't breathe.
The sandals on his feet dug into the gravel like they were sinking into a thick clog of tar and he could feel stones crushing and piling up in his lungs when he looked down at the fountain.
Felix.
His son, his litle boy, heir to all of Rome where the world would rest heavy on his shoulders. His boy was slumped into the basin of the fountain, dumped and discarded like he was nothing more than a child on the outskirts of the city. Even the gladiators in the colosseum were given more respect and dignity than this, than being tossed into the water like this.
It wasn't wine that had been tipped into the water like Geta naively presumed, it was his son's blood tainting and diluting the pristine water to a murky brown and red and hazy pink the more it streaked and soaked through from whatever wound he had received.
He found himself becoming unstuck when (Y/n) tried to move again, when he saw her hands scratching at the edge of the fountain that she used to try and pull herself up.
No. Geta couldn't allow it.
What if they were too late? What if Felix were already dead, laid slain and lifeless in that water?
Geta couldn't have (Y/n) reaching out for him, cradling him, sobbing when she realised there was no life left in their little boy. He couldn't have (Y/n) seeing him like that and holding him because once she had him in her arms, they were going to break her when they would eventually have to tear them both apart.
Before he could think better of it or realise what he was doing, Geta slid his hands beneath her arms and pulled her back.
Her back and shoulders hit his lower chest and a tortured sound left her lips as her heels scraped through the stones and dirt, trying to find balance and stability when she was clearly in no state to do so.
"No! No, no-" (Y/n) gulped in air like she was starved of oxygen and began to shake her head. "Felix!"
Her arms flailed at her sides before she tried to cling to Geta's hands beneath her arms. She scratched his skin, pushed her weight forwards, tried to straighten her legs that were bent at the knees and unwilling to move in any other way.
She wanted to get up. Her baby needed her. Felix was hurt and she needed to get him out of there, she needed to tend to him and make sure he was okay. Why was Geta holding her back? Why was he adding distance between them and their boy? Didn't he care at all?
"Get the guards here now!" His voice was shrill and pelted at the top of his lungs as he began to shake.
He could see Acacius out the corner of his eye, rushing to get closer and find out what was happening and what kind of situation he needed to take control of. But Geta couldn't utter any words to the general when he felt (Y/n) move.
She had found some strength from somewhere and managed to lurch her upper body forwards, almost managing to break free from his embrace.
"No. No you don't see that." There was something stern, something frightening to Geta's voice that was never usually so brisk with (Y/n).
Both his arms bound around her middle resting just above her stomach and he wrenched her back against his chest and swiftly turned them both to the side, forcing (Y/n)'s vision of Felix to be cut off. Each breath seethed past his froffing lips and he stumbled forwards until Acacius finally reached over to help hold onto the Empress.
"Take her away! Don't let her near." He spoke through gritted teeth when the general took (Y/n) from his embrace and held onto her along with the maid, both trying to keep (Y/n) at bay.
She was unwell. Geta knew she was going to make herself ten times worse if she saw Felix like this, and if their boy was dead and gone then there would be no consoling (Y/n). She would suffer and strain and exert herself to the point of miscarrying. Geta couldn't have her suffering through that as well as whatever might happen with their son.
He steeled himself not to flinch when (Y/n) screeched his name and thwarted her hands down on his shoulder so harshly he felt like she had dislocated the joint. He didn't care if she lashed out against him, he just wanted her as far back as possible.
All the air within (Y/n)'s lungs came out in harrowing sobs until she was left gasping and wheezing through tears, unable to take in a proper breath.
Her body succumbed to the floor, arms loose and flailing at her sides as Acacius still held onto her while he eased her to the floor. He wasn't about to let her scramble away from him if she had the will power. Darkness crept across her vision that was fading out from lack of oxygen and she could feel delicate hands holding onto her; her maid trying in vani to soothe her and get her to calm down.
A breathless utter of "My baby," tore from her lips and with each sobbing breath, they could just about hear her whispering no over and over again.
Who had done this to Felix?
Someone had summoned him away from his tutor under the false pretense of taking him to see Geta. Someone in the palace had hurt him. Perhaps it had been a guard or an imposter. Someone had hurt her child, made him bleed and left him for dead in the fountain.
They didn't lay him on the ground where they had slain him, they tossed him in there. A child of six years, and they hurt him and left him like that. They made a spectacle of him, they wanted him to be found like this. And all of this just to usurp the throne from Geta and Caracalla; take away the heir to Rome to cause mass panic and chaos.
"Get her away before she loses the child."
Geta waved his hand in (Y/n)'s direction, but he couldn't look at her anymore, his sights were set on his son.
He didn't want (Y/n) becoming ill when he could hear the state she was in and he knew how weak she had been before this mess was thrust upon them. The healers had feared her losing the baby when the fever first gripped her and now she was making herself frantic, this wasn't good for her. They needed to get her away from this sight, to calm her down somehow, even dose her with poppy seeds and opium if need be, until they figured out how- if at all- they could help Felix.
The cold water barely impacted upon Geta when he clambered over the side of the fountain and crashed down to his knees in the tainted water that made his throat tighten horribly.
His hands shook when he reached out for his boy who was as cold as the deepest part of the ocean. His skin felt like wax and he was loose and heavy when Geta slid his hands as carefully around his son as he possibly could. He lifted his boy from the thin puddle of water he was laid in and turned him over in his arms.
Felix's body slumped over Geta's thighs, his head hanging over Geta's left arm as if his neck had been snapped. His lips were pale and tinged blue and ever so slightly parted and his eyes were half-lidded.
A dreaded sound escaped Geta's lips as he looked down at his boy who looked like all the life had already drained out of him.
There was a large wound on Felix's skin, starting from the base of his throat and cutting a few inches down his chest.
Someone had attacked his son with some sort of blade. Someone had tried to slit Felix's throat, but they hadn't succeeded. His son had put up a fight, he had put his basic fighting skills to good use, he had defended himself against whoever dared to try and slay him like this. Thank the Gods they hadn't succeeded in slitting his throat.
"Felix, Felix," a shallow breath escaped Geta's lips when he bent down low towards his boy, and he heard those shallow huffs leaving his dusty blue lips.
He was still breathing.
Geta closed his eyes and tilted his head back, thanking every God that crossed his mind for looking down on his boy in this moment and sparing him, at least for now.
His left arm tightened around Felix, holding him close to his chest while he dragged his shaking hand down his son's cold skin. His cheek felt a mix between polished marble and unset wax and there was no reaction to the touch which made Geta feel even worse.
"Alright sweet boy, you're alright."
He found himself rocking back and forth, weight shifting from his heels to his knees.
He was going insane. His mind was spinning out of control. His boy was hurt, and the world was going to burn for this.
Tears streaked down Geta's features as he tried to grapple for Felix's robes and scrunch up the soaked material to press against the wound. The cold water might have done some good in stemming and slowing down the bleed, but Geta needed to make it stop. He couldn't have his boy losing anymore blood. He needed the healers to patch up this mess and save his boy, or no one would survive beyond this day.
He prayed the water would clog and stick the material to the wound so he wouldn't have to hold it there and the blood loss wouldn't become too extensive anymore.
Words rambled past Geta's lips as he eased Felix's limp frame up into his arms and rose from his aching knees to his feet. He didn't care about the water dripping from his frame, he didn't care about how his pale cream robes had dyed pale pink and blushing red like the roses in the main garden behind the palace.
All he cared about was the boy in his arms who's arms were draped over his middle and who's head was hanging over the back of Geta's arm, pushing his trachea out on display.
"I need the healers!"
Water and blood mingled along the gravel as Geta clambered out from the fountain and stormed past the useless guards who were too late to prevent anything bad from happening. Their jobs had just been made vacant; none of them were going to remain after such a colossol mess.
Rage swirled within Geta's eyes and such a menacing look flooded his features. His teeth were grated together, lips curled into a snarl with nostrils flaring as he stormed into the hall where people jumped out of his path to let him and his slain boy through.
(Y/n) watched him pass while she felt Acacius holding her tighter and carefully lift her from her crumpled position on the ground. He was going to take her away from here. Perhaps he would take her along with Geta to whichever room he took Felix. Maybe he would take her back to her and Geta's chambers and force her to stay there until there was any news.
Her husband looked like he had gone insane, he looked the spitting image of Caracalla on one of his worser days as he stormed through the palace.
But all (Y/n) could think when Geta passed her, with their limp, unmoving child in his arms, was that he had called for the healers.
He wasn't still knelt in that water, sobbing and rocking their boy in his arms. He wasn't screaming or reaching for the nearest sword, demanding justice for Felix. He was rushing him away, calling for the healers to come and help.
Felix wasn't dead; at least not yet. And that gave (Y/n) just enough hope to stop the screams building up in her chest.
She had to pray to the Gods now and beg them to spare him.
Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.
Part 1
Warnings:
Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N:
I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!
—
“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”
“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.
“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”
“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”
“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”
You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.
“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”
You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”
He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.
Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”
You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”
A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”
He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.
He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.
You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.
The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.
Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”
“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.
It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.
Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.
Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?”
You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.
“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”
He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.
“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”
You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.
He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.
He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.
“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.
“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”
Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”
“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”
His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.
“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.
“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.
“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”
Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.
He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.
These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.
You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.
“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”
You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“
“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”
You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.
“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”
“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.
“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”
You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”
Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.
“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”
+18 omegaverse, fem!alpha, dark tropes, very slight dubcon that turns into con, gore, blood, animal death, slapping, tyrant Geta, scenting, knotting, biting, p in v, oral sex (m and f receiving), bondage, breeding kink, mentions of injuries, as well as very threatening dialogues, murder and allusions to murder.
wc: 14.5k
Plot: The Emperor hid his true designation since he presented thanks to a concoction he made out of the blood of Alphas, but what happens when one particular woman enters his colosseum, and he can't look away? He won't give up his throne. No mercy. There shouldn't be. So why isn't the omega inside him listening? Why did it have mercy on her?
A/N: This man is not an Alpha. No matter how people try to paint him as, he is a whimpery man, and I want to see him tear up. thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading and also Hailey for just saying 'm-preg' on a chat and my brain went brr.
Warning before reading: Alphas have penises, being male or female. Omegas have vaginas. This does not mean they identify as the other gender they were born in, or change it at all when they present. It's a secondary gender. Reader has a cock (testicles replacing the ovaries inside), Geta a pussy (with a cocklette instead of clit).
A reblog is better than leaving just one like.
MERCY
Mix. Mix. Mix. Smash together. Crunch it up. Mix some more. Pour. Drink.
It was automatic at this point. The scent of herbs, the stench of iron, the dead body in the corner of his room, the blood jar that contained the remaining blood of a past dead man. The golden bowl on his table with the concoction he created, a transparent red, with an oily texture, and particles of herbs floating all around.
The emperor dipped his index and middle finger in and then rubbed the liquid in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He made sure to smother it well, on both sides to be certain to cover it up very well. He proceeded to take more and lay it all over his wrists, leaving a red tint behind but he can cover it with his tunics. He grabbed the bowl and his nose scrunched as he raised it towards his face, the smell pungent, wooden, filled with ash as well. He opened his mouth and drank the rest of it, letting go down his throat. His stomach revolted as he put the bowl down with a slam, his breathing turning heavy as he groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth.
No matter how many times he did this, it didn’t get any less disgusting. His bottom half cramped and he grunted, his hands slamming on the table as he held himself upright. His head turned to see the dead body that lay there, marching towards it and kicking the slashed stomach, his foot now stained with its blood.
His jaw clenched tightly as anger filled him, his body trying to betray him like it always does but he never lets it. He can’t let it. His eyes went to the face of the man’s body. He was cute, but he sadly knew too much. This stupid fucking Alpha knew too much.
Yet, he can’t help but also be thankful for him being nosy, because if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be able to get the blood he needs. To make that perfume that covers up his darkest secret, one his brother doesn’t remember, one that only his personal confidant doctor knows about, because if it were to get out, he would not be on the throne, and his brother is not in the best state of mind to rule by himself.
Because no Roman would bow to an Omega.
He heard a knock on the door and he closed his eyes as he turned around to grab his robe, putting it on as he headed towards the big golden framed doors, opening one to see his doctor, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and then followed by a sniff, angering the emperor.
“Yes, you cannot be smelled, Emperor Geta.” He knows it's part of his job to make sure it actually works, but he still gets enraged when his doctor has to sniff him because it reminds him of this vulnerability of his. This forsaken misery the gods have imposed on him as if it would have stopped him from being ruler of Rome.
“Get disposed of the body. Feed it to the dogs or to the people saying it’s rhinoceros meat, I don’t care.” His voice was cold as Caius walked in with a silver trolley, closing the door behind him. His simple robes were white, one shoulder exposed with a small golden badge to hold it on the side, signaling he was part of the royal personnel.
“As you wish, dominus noster.” His doctor walked towards the body to inspect it, making a small tsk noise, making Geta’s eyebrow twitch. “You were pretty light on this one. Just slashing his stomach, his neck… Surprised to not see guts on the floor.”
“It’s getting messier to clean up, and that has to be quick, so stop talking and get to it Caius!” His voice was loud, almost scratching an ear drum, and he managed to control his whine thanks to the liquid he had prepared finally sitting in his stomach. The blood of an Alpha on his scent glands and in his system, and it’s enough to cover his omegan stench.
He has been killing the barbarian Alphas for as long as he can remember, buying them off after a game, and people thought that the Emperor loved the atrocious act of making another Alpha submit to him, taking them to his bed, an Alpha on Alpha is what his people called it. Little did they know that it was to take their blood out of their succumbed bodies after he made a mess out of them.
He was very graphic at the beginning thanks to his anger, but as clean up took longer and his brother liked visiting him in his chamber, he had to do things a little quicker now. His dear brother who, thanks to his illness, forgot about what he truly is. His Beta brother forgot his sibling was an Omega and fully believed he was an Alpha thanks to the scent the concoction gave him. The Alpha from the day before had smelled him once he got inside the room and the Emperor quickly disposed of him, but fear struck him.
He put more blood in this time, harder to swallow but maybe it has more effect than the last few mixes he did because that Alpha could smell him, even if just a bit. A recipe brought by Caius the moment Geta had presented, his mother begging for mercy from the doctor and to not give away her prodigy’s child secret. Caius, indebted to Julia for saving him from the streets, accepted the task, and through many experiments and sacrifices, he came up with this ‘medicine’.
“I’ll extract his blood back in my office. You should get ready for the games of today. I heard there is a big surprise, a new gladiator coming to prove themselves.” Caius mentioned as he grabbed the cleaver from the bottom of the trolley where many blankets waited to be drenched in the man’s blood, for when the doctor would start chopping him up in pieces in order to carry him out.
“Not a drop wasted. You hear me?” Caius nodded, the Omega bowing his head to another who pretended to be an Alpha. For being an Omega, Caius was very calm and collected, not letting his pheromones show at all, or make it known by his actions or reactions. Geta envied him. He knows that if an Alpha came along who could spark his interest he would immediately fold for them, submit in ways he wouldn’t be able to control.
He would rather kill himself than show submission to an Alpha.
He was sitting on the stone throne next to his brother, upon the closed imperial box next to the podiums where the elite Romans cheered.
Caius sat behind him wearing new robes, the general Acacius behind Caracalla with his wife next to him. Geta’s attention went to Dondas, his brother’s pet, or best friend, or he doesn’t know if he considers her a sibling at this point. The monkey was making happy noises as Caracalla fed it small treats, a giggle in his lips.
“I wonder what’s the surprise. I’ve been hearing we are going to be quite shocked, brother.” Caracalla says as he looks at Geta with a wicked smile on his face, yet excited. Geta reciprocates the gesture, his own crazed excitement building in his chest as he awaited to see how much blood might be spilled today. One of the things he liked the most was knowing that there were barbarian Omegas fighting below him sometimes, fighting for their lives, trying not to choke on their own blood after being stomped by elephants that were brought into the field.
He was a hidden omega ruler. He felt like he was a god, managing to make people worship him not knowing his true nature. His true intentions. The sick methods he has to go through in order to hide his true self. Yes, he should be considered a god among the Romans at this point.
The announcer makes the soldiers behind him blow their horns as he steps out in the announcing box, the people cheering as he raises his hands with a smile on his face. The emperors clap with grins, getting more comfortable in their thrones as they wait for the announcement.
“Welcome! Today we have a very special surprise waiting for all of you!” The crowd cheers as Geta hears Caracalla clapping excitedly, cheering loudly, making him chuckle at seeing his adrenaline. “I hear you. This is no ordinary surprise. We caught a barbarian back on the island of Corsica. One who fought with every fiber of their being, and you would be surprised, but that barbarian is the one who caused the scar on General Acacius' face!”
Geta’s eyes widened as he laughed, looking back to look at his general, who was closing his eyes in pity. The emperor didn’t understand the gesture, but the excitement didn’t lower at all in its levels. He felt his blood running hot in anticipation, the smell of excited Alphas around the podiums while there were cowering Omegas at the top balconies, the bottom of the social chain.
“He got you good, didn’t he!?” Geta snickered as Acacius looked at him, an unreadable expression lingered, and the emperor turned his head again to keep listening as he played with the rings on his right hand.
“Fighting against lions who have been starved for over two days, here are the gladiators of this day!” The crowd cheers once again as the gates slowly open for the men to come out, having very dull swords as weapons and wooden shields but then the crowd gasps and remains silent as the last one comes out, the announcer wearing a smile on his face as the imperial box sits in shock, except for the wounded General.
“What in the heavens…” Caius exclaims in shock as Geta looks wide eyed at the field below him.
“And here I give you… The first ever barbarian woman to make it to the games!”
Your walk was confident, your face clenched as you came to stand next to the other gladiators. Your sword in hand, the shield on the other, no different than the men that stood on the same patch of dirt as you did. And then, gasps, screams, yelps and whines coming from the crowd. Caracalla pinched his nose tightly as he gasped, Caius falling on his chair as he choked on his spit and then there was Geta.
Who was wide eyed in shock, his body trembling as there in the field stood a Female Alpha.
They were rare, very rare. The only Alpha woman he ever met was his aunt, who was stupidly judged, and exiled from the city. But that was not the only thing that made his breath cut short. It was the fact that he felt his body shake aggressively, his skin starting to profusely sweat in seconds and his breathing became elaborate as he stood up from his throne.
He felt his throat closing up on him the more he got of you, your scent too potent even from this distance. What were you? Were you a prime Alpha? Those were rare, and for you to be one, a woman, it shouldn’t be, it couldn’t. He saw how you were staring at the crowd who was still silent as they looked upon you, the men next to you fidgeting in fear as you all waited for the game to start.
And suddenly, wind picked up softly, Geta felt his robes moving thanks to it, not paying any mind as he kept looking your way. The wind slowly got to you, and your nostrils flared up in an instant. Geta saw how your eyes widened, how you lowered your sword as you slowly turned your head until it finally landed on him. Your eyes clashed with his and for the first time in his life–
‘SUBMIT.’
He fell back on his throne as he clutched his chest, Caius immediately getting up to kneel next to the emperor, seeing how Geta was sweating all over, making the doctor anxious as he whispered to him.
“You are washing away the medicine. What is going on, our lord?” But the emperor could not speak as he breathed heavily, looking down at you as your eyes stood fixated on him. The smell got worse. It was as if the dirt was burning, as if there were wine being spilled all over him. He felt his body growing hotter and then, you took a step towards the imperial box.
And the horns blew off.
“Let the game begin!” And Geta wanted to yell to stop it. Yell to cancel this game but– what would his excuse be? His head turned to Caius who was still looking at him worriedly. Caracalla leaned over with a worried frown and teary eyes.
“Are you okay, brother?” Geta gulped and nodded, trying to dismiss it as something trivial.
“Y-Yes, it caught me off guard.” His brother gave a nod and then smiled back into the field. A loud cheer was let out from him as the gates for the lions started to be pulled up. Geta’s eyes snapped towards the gates as he saw the lions roar loudly, hungry for the people that were on the field, leaping out at quick speed.
His face contorted in worry as your eyes snapped to look towards the animals that were going to pounce on all of you. The first gladiator took a bite to the head as a lion lept towards him, while another one was able to cut a lion’s belly as he ducked when the beast jumped over him. The field became a bloodbath but the crowd’s eyes as well as the emperor’s never left your figure.
You were enraged, your movements aggressive as you stabbed, slashed, ducked, jumped over these beasts and no one was realizing you were doing this while getting closer to the imperial box. Every time you got closer, a lion came to attack you. You were covered in blood as the minutes went by, only three people remaining in the field out of the ten that got in, and two more lions.
One of the men got a bite out of his side and took the opportunity to stab the animal in the head, while the last lion attacked the man that was standing next to you, biting the middle of his stomach as he screamed in agony. You jumped on top of the lion’s back, the beast roaring loudly in distaste as you growled in a low and threatening demeanor, making the lion suddenly whimper. The crowd gasped as they witnessed how the lion slowly lost its struggle as you hissed loudly.
Geta could only stare as he trembled, the sound of your growl having sent electricity shocks all over his body, his hands gripping the armrests’ edge tightly, his knuckles turning white. Your eyes fixated on him again as the lion gave another roar, jerking upwards as it got out of the trance you put him in.
The emperor stood up as he leaned towards the balcony’s edge, worry showing in his features when the lion started thrashing around with you on top of him. You held tightly around his neck, your arms coming together to begin a chokehold on the beast, the alpha pheromones making the entire crowd almost kneel in their place, even the Alphas. He wonders if the Omegas at the top had to be escorted out by now.
Your right hand gripped your left elbow tightly as you used your entire strength to choke the animal that was now struggling more and more, throwing itself on the floor, rolling to try to get you off of it but you didn’t let it, even if your body fell to the sides, your arms never left its neck. You growled loudly as you bared your teeth, clamping onto the lion’s right ear and biting down fiercely. The animal roared in pain as you yanked and tore it all off, making it lose the air in its lungs thanks to the noise it had to make, slowly starting to wobble on its feet.
The crowd stood in silence as the lion finally tumbled to the ground leaving you panting on top of it. You slowly let go of your arms, unwrapping them from around the animal’s neck as you stood up again, grabbing the sword from the ripped-apart Omega the lion was eating before you jumped on top of it. Making sure it’s dead, you stabbed the animal’s head with it, and let the sword stay there as you finally looked up to see the imperial box, spitting the ear away.
Geta was gulping as he felt his thighs start to be covered in slick. He had to run away but his eyes were fixated on you, wanting to jump down from the balcony to rush to you, to kneel in front of you, to let himself be claimed once and for all. Why you? Why a woman? Why?
‘Submit. SUBMIT.’
The voice in his head was loud, knowing it was his omega side betraying him after all these years. The gate opened again to reveal soldiers coming out, ready for the emperor’s orders.
“MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!” He suddenly heard the crowd start cheering and he looked all over, at every single Alpha yelling for him to have mercy on this… woman. His eyes went back to you as you stared back at him, with blown out pupils, nose flaring and he knew you knew. He knew you could smell him despite it all. He knew you knew he was an Omega, and you were trying to make him submit to you.
He raised his trembling fist up, putting his thumb right in the middle. You have to die. You have to die right now. No one can know about him. You will destroy him because he knows you will tell everyone. He knows you will give his secret away. He has to kill you. He has to fucking let those soldiers rip you to shreds.
Caius was staring at the emperor as well as all the people that sat in the same box, waiting for his decision. The doctor knew something was going on. He never saw the emperor react this way, ever, and he could only guess it had to do with the Alpha barbarian standing in front of the imperial box with the blood of animals all over her as she breathed heavily while looking at Geta. Could it be?
“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”
‘Submit. Submit. Submit.’
“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”
‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’
His hand trembled. His finger was shaking as it remained in the middle. He has to kill you. Your guts have to fill the floor below you, make you learn your place. He doesn’t care if you're an Alpha. He doesn’t care. You have to fucking die.
And his thumb went upwards as the crowd cheered.
He was pacing back and forth in Caius’ office as the doctor looked through a book.
“There has to be an explanation! You’re my doctor so you can save me and protect me if anything were to happen to me!” Geta’s voice was strained as he felt his body burning all over, the medicine the doctor had prepared not helping at all as slick kept sliding down his legs, not being able to stop it.
“I am looking, but I cannot find anything. These are signs of heat.”
“But your suppressant things always help! They always help Caius!” He was borderline pathetically about to cry.
“Gods, I understand, trust me boy, I do! I don’t know why you got affected by that Alpha–”
“It doesn’t matter, because I’m planning on killing her tonight.” Caius' eyes widened, getting up from his chair so he could approach the emperor with shock on his face.
“She is now a known face around your loyal subjects. Even the Omegas cheered for her today. You will not be liked if you decide to kill her–”
“She knows.” That made the doctor stand frozen. How could you? You were so far away from them. You weren’t a prime alpha. He noticed it because he did not get afflicted as much as the emperor did. Prime Alphas make all omegas in their radius fall to their knees, and the only one that was about to crumble was Geta.
“How…?” The emperor shook his head, not knowing how to answer for he did not know. He doesn’t know how you managed it. Even over his homemade scent blocker that no one ever was able to break through, and over the immense distance the two of you had between each other.
“I will kill her tonight. I already bought her and they’re bringing her to my chamber and cuffing her to the bed.” Caius could only reluctantly nod at the emperor’s orders, sighing.
“I will prepare the medical kit–”
“Alone.” Caius’ eyes widened, shaking his head furiously.
“No! You cannot be alone with an Alpha like that! We don’t know why you are weak to their scent and–” Geta pushed the doctor away from him, to then slap him right across the face. The emperor breathed heavily as Caius held his cheek in shock, looking back at the man before him. Anger filled the slapped Omega, giving Geta a slow bow. “As you wish.”
“I will call on you if I need help. So stay behind the doors.” He ordered his doctor and said man only bowed once more, making the emperor straighten up and fix his night robe, chest showing until his happy trail poked from the bottom of it. He took a deep breath in as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He walked out of Caius’ office, with the doctor following right behind him. They quickly moved to avoid guards from smelling the Emperor. They passed by Caracalla’s room, who was put to sleep by raw chamomile herbs Caius gave him so he wouldn’t wake up in any way in the night.
He stopped in his tracks when he was outside his own chambers. He could smell you. He could smell your potent Alpha stench, overpowering everything around you, and he felt his knees tremble underneath him. He shouldn’t go in. He should go in at least with Caius so he could help take care of you, but the thought of someone seeing you like that made him want to growl. His mouth trembled as he felt his heart about to implode in itself, the hammering of it against his chest almost painful.
“I will be out here, dominus.” Geta turned to look at him and gave him one single nod, handing him the key to the chains that held his door together.
“Open it once I tell you it is done, or if I need help. Got it?” The doctor gave the emperor an understanding nod, and proceeded to sit on the bench that was placed next to the entrance of his room. Geta took a deep breath in and stared at the handle of his door, his hand reaching to grab it, shaking as he felt the slick gushing out of him the more he smelled you.
He held the air in and pushed the door open. The scent was now stronger, way stronger than before, and it made him want to stumble back from the power of it. He closed the door behind him and he heard the chains moving, knowing Caius had locked them inside. His head turned to walk into the dimly lit room by the candles, his big bed right in the middle with golden bedposts and sheets draping from the edges of it.
You were lying there in the middle, hands cuffed with iron prison cuffs on his bed posts, arms spread as your back rested against the headboard. Your head was hung low and he heard how you took a sharp breath in before slowly lifting your gaze up at him. His legs almost gave up on him as your eyes settled on him, his neck sweating as he gulped loudly. Your face and body were cleaned, wearing just a hitched-up tunic over you, but–
His eyes widened when he saw the tent you had on your bottom half.
A dark chuckle was heard in the room, his eyes flying to meet yours once again. You looked feral, yet he couldn’t help to think you were the most beautiful alpha he had ever seen in his entire life. He licked his lips as he slowly approached the bed, just small steps, and your eyes traveled to his exposed chest and back to his face.
“Nice to meet you, lord.” Your voice was mockingly sweet, yet with sarcasm filled all over. He wanted to kiss your lips to see if he could taste your voice, but he had to keep a straight face and a stoic mind. He had one task tonight, and he had to complete it. He couldn't fail.
“Name.” You stared at him for a long while, your mind not moving, and his eyes were big in frustration, his teeth slowly baring. “NAME!”
You wanted to laugh because of the false Alpha tone he tried to use, but you humored him, telling him your name.
“Why did you buy me off?” Geta rounded the bed, standing far still as he cocked his head your way.
“Because I have to kill you.” At his words, you let out a loud cackle, your head hitting the headboard behind you. Geta’s eyes were wide and in shock as he saw how your laughter slowly lowered as seconds passed.
“Oh, really? Why is that?”
“Because I say so.” His response was short, but a smile was kept on your lips as your head tilted to look at him with an incredulous look in your face.
“Are you sure it is just for that reason… Omega?”
He choked on his own breath as he felt a punch, a cramp happening in his belly. It was painful, yet it caused more slick to gush down his legs, stumbling backwards from just a mere word you said to him. Something no one ever called him before, not even his own mother. Your eyes were piercing through him and he felt his body burning as he grabbed a sword from the weapon rack and marched towards you, pressing the tip of it on your throat.
“You know too much. I have to kill you, you dumb stupid Alpha!” You chuckled, feeling the tip of the pointy metal on your skin.
“How did you do it?” You asked and he huffed, shaking his head. You closed your eyes and he saw how you took a sniff out of the air, a smirk appearing on your lips. “Alpha blood. Ingenious.”
“Good job on finding that out you filth. And I don’t know if you’re dumb or a knothead like all Alphas are, but you do realize why I need to kill you now, don’t you?” He tried to make his voice sound authoritative, hating how it didn’t sound at all like yours even if you were a woman. Your voice was strong, made to obey. Your laughter made every joint of his become pliant, wanting to just get on the bed and on top of you, take what he wanted from you.
“No, you won’t.” Your laughter ceased, only glaring at him and he snarled, pressing the tip even harder against your skin, pricking it and letting blood flow out.
“An emperor does not give out empty threats you damned slug! Why do you believe I won’t, huh!? What makes you believe I will have any mercy for you right now?” And a confident smile spread on your lips and it made his belly cramp once again as his eyebrows twitched at your stance.
“Because you want me, Omega. You want me to taste you, take that purity away from you, knot you and breed you until your womb takes.” Your statements made his palms sweat, his body convulsing as the heat spread all over him, his eyes becoming glossed over as he stared at you, and his hand lost its strength, making the sword fall down and onto the floor.
Out of nowhere, you lifted your body off the headboard, ripping your hands away from the cuffs. His eyes were wide as he saw blood coming down your forearms, the skin around your wrists now teared thanks to the friction of getting your hands out of those constricting iron bracelets. He didn’t notice you had been slowly wiggling your way out of them and, how could he have been so naive?
You kneeled up, grabbing the back of his head, getting hold of his scalp and hair in a tight and painful grip that made him yelp. He tried breaking free, but his strength was not there. He huffed in pain as you threw him on the bed, making him bounce on it and the moment he did, he felt your scent ten times stronger. You have been sweating over his sheets, and– Fuck– Fuck, he could smell your precum. He could smell it.
“No–! Let go!” You growled at the Omega’s defiance when you straddled him over his hips, and for the first time in his life, Geta shut up. His eyes were wide as he looked at how your hands immediately grabbed onto the string of his robes and pulled. He gasped and was about to yell only for a choke to escape him when he felt you punch him right in the stomach, a wave of nausea washing over him.
“Don’t underestimate the strength of an Alpha in a semi-rut, Omega.” His robes opened, falling on his sides and your eyes raked over him as he held his stomach, coughing from the punch you gave him.
“Damn you…” You weren’t listening to him, and his eyes followed yours, and he realized you were looking at his loincloth, how drenched it was thanks to his slick, and he clenched around nothing at all as he smelled how aroused you were, a twitch happening on the tent over the skirt of your tunic.
“How threatening…” Your hand grabbed onto one of his wrists, his body trying to make him go limp for you, to submit, but he cannot let it, so his legs start kicking up, trying to get you off him, which only made you laugh as your grip around his wrist tightened, fingers digging into his flesh. “-- An Omega in heat is as strong as a thread of silk.”
Geta’s body was reddened, the burning of his blood becoming unbearable each second that passed. You were strong, very strong, or like you said, he was weak at this point. He let his instincts decide your fate, and he shouldn’t have trusted them. He shouldn’t have trusted his stupid instincts because they were clearly in your favor. He delivered a swat to your face with his free hand, which you dodged easily, an unamused look on your face as you stared him down. Your eyebrow twitched at how much he was moving around as you tried to put his wrist over his head.
“Stop moving or I'll cut your legs off.” Your voice was low, a tone that was never used on him before, something that made his insides turn in delight, in disgust, in excitement, in shame. His body fell limp beneath you as he tried to make it listen to him again, but his mind was clouded for a few seconds, tears filling his eyes from the sudden need. The sudden need of you.
You put his hands over his head, tying them together with the sling of his robe, and then tied the end of it to one of the cuffs you got yourself out from. Your eyes went towards your own wrists, seeing the open wounds, your raw flesh exposed as it stung slightly. You would have to take care of it later, and the emperor’s eyes followed your sight to see the wounds you provoked on yourself.
Your eyes widened when you heard a small whine. It was very small, and short, but it was enough for your ear to pick up the sound. Geta’s face was that of shock, not knowing where the sound had come from, nor why he did it against his own will.
“Aw… does someone care for their Alpha?” That made Geta’s anger arise despite the arousal and the slick gushing out of his cunt. A cunt he hid for so many years, putting items in his loincloth to make it pretend he had a bulge. A cunt that is now clenching over nothing as it begs to be touched for the first time, and not by just anyone. You. It wants you. He hissed, baring his teeth at you as he yanked on the binds you put on his wrists.
“You are not my Alpha! I have no Alpha! Never will!” That made your face twitch with distaste, your nose scrunching up slightly but then you let out a small chuckle, catching his attention.
“Oh, but I am. And you are my Omega, and if you think that I’m going to let you walk out of this room a virgin and unbred, you are greatly mistaken, my lord.”
‘Submit.’
“No– No–! CAIUS! CAIUS!!!” He started screaming as the voice in his mind became loud, and consistent, making his body grow weaker and the slick between his legs thicker. He yelled for his doctor, but he heard no chains being opened. He heard nothing, making his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. You looked over your shoulder and back down at him with a twisted smile.
“It seems someone ditched you, my emperor.”
‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’
“No, no, no, no– I worked too hard– No!” He kept screaming his doctor’s name, and you just watched him, waiting for his vocal cords to fail on him, for him to grow tired. His arms were still fighting, his legs trying to kick you off still, and you pressed yourself harder onto his hips, right on his pained belly. His voice cut off, making him grunt as he threw his head back at the feeling of pressure on his cramps.
“You can’t fight it. You were mine the moment I stepped into that field, as well as I became yours.” Those words made him look at you, his eyes connecting with yours and a shock of electricity rushed through both of your bodies, a sweat of pleasure washing over as a moan came out of your lips and his. His legs stopped moving, falling limp on the bed as he breathed heavily, his hivemind slowly taking over, his rationality being thrown out a balcony in the lapse of minutes. Everything he worked for, all of his resolve, was rendered to nothing in these few moments he spent with you.
“I– I should kill you…” You shook your head at him, a grin on your lips.
“Let me show you why you shouldn’t.” Geta felt his skin as if acid had been thrown on it. It was burning him, painfully, but with pleasure. He had never experienced a proper heat because of how much he rejected his designation, and he is still wondering how did you of all people manage to trigger it.
He gasped when you leaned forward, pressing your lips on his chest, your tongue lolling out to lick some of his sweat away, a pleased moan residing in your throat. He whimpered, trying to hold the stupid and pathetic moan in, just by you licking him. You licked your lips before placing another kiss to his collarbone, then moving up to his neck, your nose grazing his mating gland for just a second, but it was enough for the emperor to flinch in fear, your head snapping to look at him.
“No– No, don’t–”
“No need to fear me… I won’t. But you will want it by the end of this.” He wanted to scoff and deny your words, but as soon as your mouth pressed against his pulse point, he was rendered speechless, choking on his spit as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He could feel your lips, your tongue licking all over, your teeth nibbling on him, tasting every little piece of skin that you could. He suddenly felt you sucking on his flesh, making his eyes snap open, his body wiggling underneath you.
“No marks! Don’t you dare in the hells mark me!” At his defiance, you growled, your teeth clamping on the side of his throat, and he cried out of pain, fear, your teeth way too close to his mating gland. You were not going to listen to him, adamant to keep up the intention of making him yours. You pulled away from him, looking down at his face, your lips stained red because of the blood you drew from the bite.
“Don’t you dare order me.”
“I am the Emperor… I can command anyone to kill you in just a second! You should fear me, not defy me, much less–” His voice was cut short when your hand immediately wrapped around his throat, his arms yanking against the bindings you made, trying to set free as he choked on your hold, his legs kicking up behind you, but your strength– it was too great.
“Don’t threaten me, Omega. You are talking way too much for someone who is pinned on the bed with no way of protecting himself at all.” He whined underneath your hold, and then he winced when he felt a cramp punch him right in his bottom half. They were getting worse each second that passed and his mind was losing oxygen because of your hold. You immediately let go of him, and he choked for air as you stared down at him.
“You’re… You’re crazy.” He spat out with venom. He hated you. He hated you. He wanted to kill you. He wanted to rip your chest open to take your heart out. He wanted to dip his hand in the middle of your stomach to take your intestines out… He hated you. He hated that he wanted you. He hated the fact you were making his slick come out in quantities he never experienced before. He hated that he wanted you to take his purity away.
He hated that he wanted to submit his Omega to your Alpha.
“You’re one to talk, now shut the hell up.” Your mouth went back down to kiss his chest, making him groan as you kissed your way towards his left nipple. He gasped as your mouth enveloped it, your tongue flicking the nub over and over again until it perked up. He whimpered as his body trembled at each flick, not expecting it to feel this good. He had touched himself, but he was untouched by others. The concubines were a fake, a show he put on to make him more believable, to make his facade the more believable.
He wanted to protest but his mouth did not move because his body was succumbing to what you were making him feel for the very first time. Your mouth went to his right nipple to give him the same attention you gave the left one and his back arched slightly off the bed, making you chuckle underneath your breath. You were loving his reactions, and he knew you were because your excitement could be detected through your arousal. He knew his bed sheets would have to be burnt in the morning… if he survived until then.
Your lips started trailing down as your body moved, crawling backwards as you kissed his navel, making him jerk from the sensation, goosebumps being displayed all over his arms and chest. You licked around his belly button, and he whined at the strange feeling, not knowing he was sensitive in that area at all, but then his eyes widened when he felt your body wiggling itself in between his legs, trying to spread them apart but he did his best to keep them closed.
A warning growl came from you and his body acted against his will as his legs spread open for you to finally slot yourself in the middle, your fingers hooking on the edge of his cloth and he held his breath in. The only one who had ever touched him there for inspection had been Caius to check on his health and overall look of it. His body trembled in anticipation, nerves, fear, excitement, lust - he no longer knew, yet, you didn’t pull his cloth down, your lips pressing against his left inner thigh.
Were you trying to calm him down?
He felt the air becoming lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his chest, a weight he didn’t know was there at all. He could breathe more easily now, and he realized you had released soothing pheromones in the air for him. He didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You looked like you were going to take what you wanted no matter what he said, yet you also acted like he was the most delicate flower there was.
“Calm.” It was authoritative, but not like the other times. He felt like there was no threat behind the voice, but rather a warm blanket of a caring emotion. He wanted to laugh at that statement. You had punched him in the stomach for him to stop struggling, there is nothing caring about this. Yet–
He gasped when you licked the slick that was stuck on his inner thighs, and a pleasured growl vibrated throughout the whole room. You were tasting him. Someone was tasting him for the very first time and he didn’t think this day would ever come. He assumed he would have died a virgin for the sole purpose to rule until the end of his days. Rule. He has to rule. His mind snapped back into reality for a second, finding his voice once again.
“Y– You can’t–” He didn’t want to stop, his body didn’t want you to stop, but what about the rest? Everything he struggled with, everything he had to do to be where he is right now, all being thrown down into a pit of snakes because of you, because of your goddamn existence.
“I can, I will and you won’t be able to stop screaming for me, Omega.” He snarled at the name, not wanting to be called that, he wasn’t used to it, no matter how right his body told him it was, his mind could not fathom it. Your fingers hooked on the edges of his cloth once more and you started taking them off, making him gulp loudly as he felt the coldness of the room hit him right on his wet cunt, sending shivers all over his body.
You had your eyes closed, nose flaring aggressively as you took off this piece of fabric. He saw you throwing the loincloth away, and you finally opened your eyes, staring at the untouched cavity no one had the pleasure to be in or taste before. A place that was never to be seen by others, touched, or defiled. Your breathing grew elaborate as you smelled him. You smelled the slick dripping down towards the crack of his ass and down to his robe that you never got to take off.
His eyes looked down towards your tunics, the tent still up, and his head started to wander. What size could it be? Do female Alphas have the same size? Smaller? Thinner? His curiosity is there, he wants to know, but he knows he shouldn’t because the moment he sees your member he is probably going to submit completely and he is not ready for that. Not yet.
“You are pretty. The gods have really blessed you with it.” Your voice was anything but sarcastic or with venom. It was honest, and you almost sounded drunk. He wiggled slightly underneath you, feeling the embarrassment of being watched so intensely for the first time. Watched with another intent than just giving him a medical check-up.
“S-Stop. I didn’t ask for it. If it were for me I would have never chosen it!” His voice was loud, high pitched, and his hands yanked once more, feeling his arms growing tired from being in the air for a while now. You were still looking down at his center, completely out of it, high off of his scent. You slowly bent down, laying on your stomach as you positioned your face right in front of his entrance. He was wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do in this situation.
He felt a cold air sharply brushing over his small cocklette. He looked down to see you blowing over him, sending shivers all over his body, and goosebumps on his legs and arms. You didn’t react to him, your mouth still agape as you stared at his core. You closed your eyes as you took a sharp intake of his smell, and then exhaled, opening your eyes again to lock them with his own. His breath hitched in his throat, wanting to fight back, wanting to push you off, but his body was betraying him. After all these years, his body is retaliating back.
He threw his head back when he felt your tongue sharply lick from the bottom of his slit, to the top, and then flick his cocklette in one movement. A gasp got stuck in his throat at the new sensation. What was that? He could have been feeling that all this while, and he was willing to never know about this for the sole purpose of keeping his throne?
Yes. Yes, he was.
“Stop–” He needed you to stop because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from calling out to you. To call out for you.
“No. This is mine.” You said in a growl, surprising him with how possessive you sounded. How brutal that statement was, yet it wasn’t unpleasant to him even if he wanted to feel it was. Before he could answer, his back arched upwards, his mouth falling open as you started circling his cocklette with the tip of your tongue, to then take it into your mouth.
“Damn you–” He clenched his teeth together as he held in his sounds of pleasure, trying to focus on not enjoying it, focus on his throne, focus on rome. But it was hard to do when you were slurping him as if he were the ambrosia Demeter promised Demophon of Athens. And he was. To you he was even more than that, more delightful, as if you were tasting all constellations. You let go of his cocklette with a pop, drool already pooling at the corner of your mouth.
“You taste delightful… delicious… remarkable.” Your tongue lolled out to lick a strip all over his slicked up folds. His body trembled beneath you, your hands on his inner thighs to keep them separated, and for him to not have a surge of power and clamp them together over your head.
“Ngh–” He was holding back his moans, the more you licked, the more he sweat and the more scent he was exuding. He didn’t want to give in to the pleasure. He didn’t want to give in to you. He didn’t want to yet his body was reacting, and betraying him over and over again and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stop this.
You kept licking, tasting, ravishing him with your tongue in ways he never thought he would experience. This was never supposed to happen in his entire life and yet, there you were, between his legs, eating his biggest secret. And he was loving it. His body was absolutely ecstatic of feeling like this for the first time in its life and his mind was slipping away each lick of yours, each sucking on his cocklette.
He gasped as his back arched off the bed when your tongue entered him. He didn’t know what to think of it, feeling you inside, feeling something inside for the first time in his life aside from his own fingers. He whimpered as he felt you swirling around inside of him, your moans vibrating against his core, and he could hear your slurping as he felt more slick coming out of him.
You were addicted, and he could smell how much you were enjoying him. He wanted to hate it, hate the fact you were enjoying yourself so much, but no… he was so happy. He wanted to chirp for the first time in his life, knowing you… an Alpha, was aroused by pleasuring him. That you were finding him delicious. That you wanted to make him climb into those mountains of pleasure no one ever took him before, and much less reach the very peak of them.
You pulled away with a gasp for air, and he lifted his head to look down at you, seeing how you licked all over your lips, still looking at his center with blacked out eyes. His legs trembled as his belly twirled around with need for more, a rope that was slowly becoming tighter with the intent of snapping apart.
“The gods were so good to you… making you this delicious, and only for me to taste.” Your voice was sultry and as if you were not entirely there. It was low, with the hint of a purr in the background of it and Geta’s skin grew goosebumps because again, he was delighted to hear an Alpha purr for him. Yet, a bit of his rational mind, or what he thought was rational, remained.
“I never asked for it–” His eyes widened when he felt your middle finger running along his slit, wetting it with his slick. He tensed up, clenching on nothing as nerves and fear overtook him for a second, yanking on his arms once again. He felt you kiss his right inner thigh and then a purring voice.
“I am going to take care of you… relax.” His omega does as told instantly, relaxing for you as he slumped back on the bed, not knowing how tense his entire body got. You hummed in approval, pushing your finger in, slowly, letting him engulf you at his pace. His mouth fell agape, his head falling back on the pillow underneath him. He felt you invaded him, a stranger, and he should hate it. He should hate it just like he always thought he would have and yet, he wants to moan out your name.
He wants to call out for you.
His belly cramped in pleasure, and he heard a chuckle coming from you, but he didn’t have the strength in him to retort at you, or to snap like he always does. You let him adjust around your finger for a second before pulling out and pushing back in again. The feeling was foreign coming from another person, and much more when it was an Alpha. It was as if the pleasure was heightened. As if he had an aphrodisiac injected into him, and he could only blame his heat for this.
You started thrusting your middle finger in and out of him, and his body flushed all over, heat engulfing him from head to toe, burning him as if he were inside an iron bull. His eyes closed as he fought to keep his mouth closed, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his noises in. You felt him slick your finger, making it so easy to slip in and out of him, so you decided to add your ring finger, slowly, pushing it next to your other one and the Emperor gasped, a strangled small moan escaping him for the first time in the night.
“What a good Omega. If it feels good, you have to let yourself enjoy it, pretty one.” He whined at your words, but still he wanted to listen to you as you started pumping your fingers in and out of him. Small little pants escaped him as his body moved slightly, up and down on the bed thanks to your thrusts. The rope started getting tighter and he wanted to curse the hells for making his body this way. It was all because of your designations, it’s just because of that reason only.
His walls started fluttering around you, and his legs trembled, letting you feel the reaction with your free hand which was still gripping his inner thigh, nails digging into the flesh. Your hips were rubbing against the mattress below you, trying to get friction and your growls of need started vibrating on every single wall of the room. Your cock had fully come out, and you needed to knot the Omega below you before your semi-rut makes you go insane.
You curled your fingers upwards at the same time you engulfed his cocklette into your mouth, sucking eagerly and feeling some of his slick coming out of the tip of it. He let out a cry of pleasure as he felt something weird. It was different and it felt too good. You were rubbing something deep within him that he had never felt in his entire life. Was this his heat? It was making his belly cramp as his orgasm got closer and closer, ready to unravel him in front of you.
You kept slurping on him as your fingers increased their pace in short and quick movement, abusing that soft spot inside of him that was making him tremble underneath you, trying to move around, not knowing what to do with his body. He knew his scent was a mix of emotions, but he didn’t know what to think of this. It was a pleasure he never felt in his life, and his moans were now unrestrained, making you purr against him.
“W– What is– Oh, I’m–” You hummed against him, urging him to finally let go on you, to let himself get washed away in a tsunami of pleasure. A pleasure you are giving him.
The constellations flashed over his eyes as his back arched off the bed, his wrists yanking against the restraints as his thighs wanted to clamp on anything because he felt he was on fire down there, clamping around your fingers like a vice. His belly burnt and tightened as his climax crushed through him and his mouth opened, ready to call out for you for who you were. But his own gush of slick cut him off, surprising him as his cries were heard around the room.
You took everything he gave you from his cocklette, gulping it all down as you slowed your fingers, helping him ride his orgasm out. He was having some spasms as you felt him unclench around you, slowly pulling your mouth and fingers away from him. He let his body fall slump on the bed, and you saw how his chest went up and down with heavy breaths. You looked down at his center, your tongue licking all the slick that was coming out from his orgasm.
“So delicious, damn you…” You mumbled into him as he twitched, little whimpers of overstimulation escaping him. He felt his sight slowly coming back to him, and he didn’t understand why but… he wasn’t satisfied. His belly started hurting again and he realized that he wasn’t going to ever be until he was knotted. He needed a knot… your knot.
Your ministrations were cut off when you heard a small sob coming from above you. You immediately pulled away from him, crawling up his body, both hands now resting on each side of his head as you looked down at him. He was whining, tears running down his eyes, his charcoal liner leaving dark streaks from the corner and towards his ears. Your hand reached over, slowly touching his cheek only for him to hiss and shove his head away from you.
“You… You are just going to take it…” You tilted your head at him, confused. Your arousal was interrupted with worry and he didn’t understand why you were acting this way when all you wanted was to break him.
“Take it…? Your vir–”
“My throne. You– You are going to take my throne…” His tears started rolling down once again as he shook his head. “You are going to reveal who I am, and it will be over for me, and–”
He gasped when he felt your lips on his forehead, a surge of calmness washing over him. He could smell your scent, a warm and kind fire. The scent of lemongrass all around him, something he didn’t smell on you before. You pulled away as you shook your head at him, his mind reeling with confusion.
“I don’t want your throne.”
“What? Don’t you dare jester me–”
“I just want you, Omega. We are destined.” At those words, Geta’s eyebrows pinched right in the middle, not understanding what you were saying at all.
“What are you saying?” You chuckled, a genuine smile on your lips, despite all that hard exterior you had shown him all night and at the games, making his body tremble slightly underneath you.
“We are scent mates. You were the only scent in my life to trigger a small rut and it seems I am the only one who could trigger a heat on you, despite any method you took to avoid them and suppress them.”
The Emperor was stunned at your words. Was there something like that in the world? He never heard of it before, and Caius didn’t either because he didn’t find anything on that subject. Scent mates… then, it means he cannot leave you. He cannot kill you. He cannot make you leave because he doesn’t want to. He can’t.
“Y– You… how… I don’t– I don’t want to give up my throne–”
“And you won’t. Make me your second general in command. I am a very respected Alpha back in my city, and I have an army of three thousand barbarians.” He blinked a few times up at you, his mind blank as it slowly started filling with warmth and with some clarity. His hivemind started to take control of him the more he heard you talk.
“You want… to give me your army?” You nodded at that, your hand reaching out to rub his cheek once again and this time he didn’t pull away, letting you rub against his skin, his eyes closing as his chest warmed up to the feeling.
“Protecting you is my number one priority. If you want to rule as an Alpha or an Omega, it’s your choice, but I will stand behind you, not in front of you, my Omega. I would never forsake you.”
And his body felt as if it were laying on clouds. It felt as if he was enveloped in warm comforters crafted by the olympus with gold linen all over the seams. Your eyes showed honesty, and he could smell that you were in fact being truthful to him. Why didn’t you start with that? Why didn’t you begin with those words so he could fully enjoy you? To let him fully succumb to this heat and the need to mate with you?
“Protect me… Alpha.” He saw your body tremble, a strangled moan choking you up as he saw your eyes turn deep black once again. “Untie me.”
You looked down at him for a few seconds, your breaths starting to become heavier as your mind started slipping away into a knothead rut. You managed to let a shaky breath out of your lips as your hands reached over to untie him, struggling a little thanks to the trembling of your fingers. His gaze was stuck on your face, his chest going up and down as he breathed heavily, feeling the string of his robe coming undone, his wrists burning from the friction, but he no longer cared.
His arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders, his face flushing with rosy cheeks as you looked down on him. He didn’t know what to do, but his instincts were telling him to try and lunge forward, do something, and gladly, you realized and took that initiative for him. Your lips clashed on his and he immediately whimpered in ecstasy, feeling a current of electricity running through his bones as your arms wrapped around him.
His hands started going down towards your neck, feeling how hot your skin was, basking on being able to finally touch you. Your lips moved desperately on eachother, sloppy, messy, filled with drool and tongue. It makes your length twitch underneath your tunics, making you groan. Your hips connected with his middle, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths as you started slowly swaying back and forth on him.
He could feel you. It was big from what he could guess, and his core slicked all over at the thought of getting knotted by you. Never in his life he thought he would hear those words in his head. His cocklette was being rubbed in the most delicious of ways, making him whimper and groan in your mouth. Your moans were sweet, deep, and in need, and he cannot believe his destined Alpha would be a woman. He never thought of the possibility of there ever being a destined person, or a scent mate in his life. He was never taught that or no one ever gave him a slight mention of it.
But it seems that’s because of royalty. You came from a city filled with legends, old tales, no one to rule over you. A community being a community. He doesn’t understand it.
You pulled away from him, kneeling up and undoing the string in the middle of your tunics. He was staring at you, rising up on his elbows to take a better look at you as you pulled the fabric up and away from you, revealing you had no underwear on yourself. That’s why he could feel you so harshly. His eyes widened when he saw you, all ready, throbbing, hard, large, and with precum coming out of your tip.
And his mouth salivated.
He whimpered as his eyes turned glossy, fully sitting up, his body acting on pure impulse and desire. He leaned forward, tongue lolling out, to tentatively lick the tip of your lenght. You choked on a growl, both hands coming to cover your mouth. He could sense the spike of arousal in you, and he could taste it on his tongue as more precum oozed out of you. He smirked, looking up at you while his hand engulfed your base.
“So pretty for me, Alpha.” And you were. You were beautiful. Your breasts, your perky nipples waiting for his mouth, for his touch. Your pupils completely engulfing the irises of your eyes. You were perfect. A perfect Alpha and just for him. He saw you shiver and he heard you whimper for the first time in the night, the roles reversing for a split second.
“Please…” You moaned out, and he looked back down at your throbbing shaft that bobbed for attention on his face. He didn’t know how to do this. He wasn’t skilled, he had no experience, but god, does he want to satisfy his Alpha with everything he has in him. He moved forward again as you stayed kneeled up, his hands coming to grip your backside as he kissed the tip of your length.
You couldn’t help the moan with his name on your lips as he kept giving kisses and tentative licks to it. His hands went upwards to hold onto your breasts, a moan escaping him as he felt your nipples on his palms. He fondled them, basking on them, worshipping the first pair of breasts he ever touched without any fabric or coverage on them. He often did it to his ‘concubines’ to keep appearances, but never touched them raw like he is now and he is loving it. His kisses traveled along the length, reaching your base and you shivered as you let your hands drop to your sides again as your head fell backwards.
You smelled so good to him, making more of his juices gush out of him, staining the robe beneath him and probably seeping through it and down to his sheets. Now he doesn’t want to burn them at all. He wants to keep them unwashed for days, or weeks, just so he can smell you every minute and hour of the day. He got your nipples in between his index fingers and thumbs, pinching and rolling them as he felt you jerk slightly on his grasp.
He finally opened his mouth to take the tip of your shaft into his mouth, the head of it feeling excellent on his tongue as he swirled it around. You whined as your hand went to the back of his head, running your fingers through his ginger hair as you basked on how good he looked doing this to you. Suddenly, he whined as a cramp kicked in his belly, making him pull away from you, his hands coming to rest on it.
Your arousal got interrupted as worry for your Omega took over, your free hand coming to hold his cheek so he could look up at you. He had a tear running down his face as his face reddened in need.
“I– I don’t know– Something is missing–”
“Your nest, my sun. Your nest is missing.” You instantly pulled away from him, a desperate whine escaping him as you stepped off from the bed to grab your tunic again, crawling towards him again, handing the garment to him. “Smell this.”
He did as instructed, his hands snatching your tunic away, his nose dipping into the filthy cloth only for your scent to fill his lungs. He moaned at it, his head whipping behind him to look at his pillows. He shrugged his robe off, moving in order to get it off from under him as well, and he placed it on one side of his pillow, while your tunic was put on the other side. His belly uncramped slightly, but it was hungry for more.
He kneeled up, turning around to see you again and he had to look down slightly to be able to meet your gaze. He was panting as his whimpers were coming out of his mouth, not being able to control them. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him, your shaft in between the both of you, smearing your own seed on his body.
“Please… I–” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. He moaned into it, his palms flat all over your back, touching everywhere he could as you two kissed fervently.
‘Submit.’
He pulled away, laying back down on the bed, spreading his legs to reveal his wet center to you and his hand was raised for you to take it. You took it and he pulled you into him, falling in between his legs, your chest hitting his. Your lips found his jaw, kissing it gently and you could hear him whimper as his hips canted upwards onto your length, making you hiss.
“I will take care of you. I’ll make the pain go away, Omega.” And Geta purred, for the first time in his life. He had never purred, not even for his own mother or brother. He had denied his designation since the first minute, and he denied having any omega behaviour, even as small as a whine.
It felt good.
Your eyes widened at the sound, your shaft now slickened up thanks to rubbing it up and down his folds and against his cocklette. Your canines elongated as a deep growl in delight, assimilating a purr, vibrated in your throat. Your hips went backwards and your tip caught onto his entrance, making his breath hitch. His hands were on your waist, while yours were caging his head against the bed.
“I’m ready, my Alpha.” You shivered at the sound of that. My. Mine. Yes, it sounded right. You started pushing forward, slowly, torturous for you, but new to him. His eyes widened as he threw his head back onto the pillows, tilting his head to where your tunic was for your scent to fill his nostrils. He couldn’t find his voice as you kept splitting him open, feeling this new intrusion inside of him, a much bigger one.
“Relax, my sun. You need to relax for me…” He tried to let go of the air he was holding in, slowly, trying to get his breathing under control. Your lips connected to his neck, giving it soft pecks as he felt your hot breath on his skin. That made him relax, untense, his body falling deeper into his soft bed. The moment he unclenched on you, you kept going, breaching him open as his digits dug into your waist.
He felt himself shaking as he felt the extreme pleasure running all over his limbs, as well as the pain of the loss of his virginity. But you were being so careful with him, and he felt protected by you. A gift sent by the gods themselves. He didn’t know you were thinking the exact same thing, and now you didn’t feel any sadness towards your city. The invasion caused you to meet him, it caused you to finally reach him and be where you are now.
He choked on his spit when there was some strain as you were about to bottom out in him. It was painful, making him hiss at the pain, but his belly was screaming for you to break it. It needed you to break it. It was just one more little push, one more little thrust and his purity will be long gone. Your eyes locked with his, and he saw how fast your breathing was, how flushed you looked, how much you were holding yourself back with him, even in a semi-rut. He gave you one nod and–
“Damn–!” He cried out as you gave one strong thrust, finally getting through the restraint. You let out a breath, choking on it as you took another in, shaking as you did while looking down at where you two were connected, pelvis to pelvis. His eyes were closed as he tried to adjust to you, thinking it was going to be impossible but it was becoming so easy as he kept letting his strangled breaths out.
You couldn’t begin to explain what you were feeling. It was as if you solved the logical explanation of a long lost legend. As if you’ve won a war that would give you everything you’ve ever wanted. And for the Emperor, he felt like conquering something more than Rome, than all the cities around him. You were more than anything he ever put his power onto.
Your eyes met his, his right hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a kiss that made you twitch inside of him, and he felt the first sweat of pleasure all over his body, making him moan into your mouth. He pulled away from you, keeping his nose against yours as he looked into your eyes.
“Move.” He commanded, the roles now reversed, and you didn’t mind it at all. Your hips went backwards, and he groaned as he looked down where you were connecting with him as you slowly pushed back in. His face contorted into a pleasured one in an instant as he felt you against his walls, making him look into your eyes again. Your jaw was clenched, setting a slow pace on him to accustom him to the feeling.
He started letting out soft breaths as the pleasure grew more intense the more you thrusted into him. It felt like he was slowly losing himself, his mind telling him things he never thought of before. Mating. Breeding. Him pregnant with your pups. His round belly as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered if your thoughts were going in the same direction as his.
“You feel so good, my Omega.” He flustered at that, his mouth opening to let out a moan as you quickened the pace, and his fingers dug into the back of your neck and your side. He started feeling his belly turn in delight, more slick than ever coming out of him and around you, smearing all of his sheets and your pelvis and thighs.
“More– More–” He couldn’t recognize his desperate voice, feeling a need like never before. You kneeled up with a groan, getting hold of his knees as his hands fell to his sides. He was confused as he panted only for his eyes to widen when you started moving rougher, your hips now snapping against his, and he heard the skin slapping, his core squelching thanks to how much slick he produced.
You were moaning, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, and his cries for you grew louder, calling out your name, a new prayer in his lips. He felt himself burning, his body just engulfed in flames as if Hell had sucked him in for punishment. He felt you going in and out of him, your hips angling at one point and–
He gasped as a whimper followed when he felt that sweet spot being hit by your tip once more. He didn’t care what it was anymore, just that it felt divine. His hands gripped the sheets below him as you kept that rough pace, sweat all over your body, nails digging into his knees as you kept his legs spread for you. He was crying out for you, looking at you through hooded lids, tears of pleasure running down the sides of his face as drool pooled on the corner of his mouth.
“So pretty, Omega. My Omega. My beautiful, powerful Omega.” Oh, he loved the sound of that, his core fluttering around your length, making your hips stutter slightly before continuing your pace with a growl. His belly needed more, but he didn’t know how to get it, or what that more was. He just needed it, making him whimper in the middle of his moans.
“Alpha– I don’t– I need more–!” You nodded, your right hand leaving his knee, moving in between the two of you to get hold of his cocklette. His back arched as he cried out when you started rubbing him, your hand squeezing lightly to cause friction as you kept slamming your hips against his. He felt his belly turning and turning, the threat of an orgasm approaching him as his nails dug into his mattress.
You moaned out his name, over and over again, feeling him clench and unclench around you. There was fire between the both of you, the air around you musky, filled with the scent of sin, of beautiful sin. He didn’t want this smell to leave his room now. Not ever. His body moved back and forth as your skin slapped over and over, feeling you deep within him, and he swore you were hitting his belly.
But you kept abusing that soft place in him, making his entire body tremble in anticipation as he felt himself being lifted into clouds the more you railed into him. His moans started coming out choked, his breaths were stuttering as he tried taking deep ones in. His body was red in color as you looked down on him, your hand moving faster on his cocklette, your mouth watering at the sight before you.
“Let go, my lord. Let go, Omega.” And that he did. His eyes clenched shut as his walls tightened all around you, making you stop your hips, a choke coming out of your lips. He couldn’t find his voice as he shook underneath you, his back arched, his neck all red as he couldn’t help throwing his head back. It was a strong orgasm, and it was so good doing it around your shaft. It felt too good. He finally cried out your name as his belly kept fluttering, the orgasm ongoing.
You were breathing heavily as his back touched the bed again, and you stopped the movement of your hips, trying to catch your breath as he finally unclenched around you. He was panting as he kept his eyes closed, trying to regain some consciousness as his mind kept reeling with you, some rationality seeping through that was making him think of the future.
He saw you choking on your breaths as your hands landed on his chest to hold yourself up, the hand that stroked your cocklette smeared with the small spurt of slick that came out of it. You hissed when you felt the burning starting to happen at the base of your length. You pulled your hips back and moved back in, your name coming out of his mouth as his hands went up to cradle your face.
He wanted it. He needed it. So he started begging.
“Please– Please–” He pleaded for you and you shivered on top of him as you moved your hips once again, setting a normal pace, because if you went rough you would not be able to control your hivemind, already feeling your canines wanting to elongate inside your mouth.
“I– I won’t knot you, my lord.”
His eyes widened, a loud whine escaping his throat, eyebrows meeting in the middle with pure sadness. What did you mean? Why not? Why?
“What–? What– no! I order you–!” His voice was strained as your hips stilled, just half of your length in, and he knew your knot was slowly inflating because he could feel a different thickness trying to enter him. He whined when he felt it and you were not pushing it in, not wanting to lock inside of him.
“I– If I knot you, I will mate you. I will bite you– I– I don’t want to make my Omega unhappy, and if ruling makes you happy– Biting you means you will live as an Omega.”
He now understood what you meant. You really wanted him to keep ruling, and for that he would have to give up the idea of ever mating you, knowing that at one point he would be pregnant with your pups. Everyone will know he is an Omega… the entirety of Rome will rise against him. Probably even kill him for the deception to the whole community… yet–
“Protect me. You told me you would protect me… I want to keep ruling with your bite on my neck.” His face was twisted as he grinned up at you, wickedness displayed in his features, ideas brewing in his head that the more he thought of, the more he enjoyed. You saw the shift in Geta’s gaze. He had come up with a plan.
“Are you sure?” Your gaze turned dark, thoughts of protecting your omega against everything and everyone, blood on your hands as you ripped open skulls, pushed eyes into their sockets… Yes, you enjoyed the mere idea of killing for the emperor. For your Omega.
“Mercy– I beg you– I want it–” He whined now, tears spilling from his eyes as his hips tried to move towards you, wanting you back inside of him. “Have mercy on me, Alpha.”
And suddenly, he saw that smirk of yours that he saw the first time. It was evil, filled with dark emotions that he himself has inside. You kneeled up again as you raised your hand towards him, your thumb in the middle. He watched expectantly, the heat in his body rising to extraordinary levels as the anticipation was killing him from inside out.
“If tyranny is what my Omega wants… Tyranny is what you are going to get.”
And you turned your thumb upwards.
The crowd was cheering loudly as the gladiators fought on the field below.
Caracalla was laughing, clapping as he looked back at General Acacius, but the man’s eyes were fixated on the person on his left, the one that was behind the other throne.
You were standing tall as one of your hands rested at the top of the throne while the other was being gripped by your Omega’s hand, over his right shoulder. Your attire had changed into a general’s. You were wearing golden gear, with a red cape hanging from your shoulders. Women never wore these attires, much less, women didn’t go to war, even those who were Alphas. You were the exception at the Emperor’s orders.
When you two mated two months ago, you had sworn you would protect Geta, at any cost. That he will rule, even if the people and the council found out he was an omega. But before that, you two had to pay some people a visit. The council.
The moment Geta walked in with you right behind him, all the men in the room winced in disgust, getting up from their seats as the emperor sat next to his brother who was shocked, his mouth agape as he smelled his sibling. You walked to stand next to him, your eyes filled with the intent of murder, with the thirst of blood, which made the men in the room sit back down, slowly, and against their will.
“I have deceived you all. As you can smell, I am not an Alpha. I never have been, but I plan to keep ruling as an omega… I have been for years now, you all didn’t notice. It doesn’t change anything.” At that, all the men in the room started yelling, Alphas and Betas pointing fingers at the emperor, and you wanted to growl loudly, warn them to not overstep, but Geta held your hand, noticing how angry you had gotten. The men fell silent as they saw the gesture, now looking at you.
“You have been mated.” One of them said, and Geta nodded with confidence. His brother smiled and clapped in excitement, making him look at Caracalla with surprise in his features.
“A mate! A mate! Everyone rejoice!” Geta smiled with teeth, feeling his belly turn with excitement, squeezing your hand in the process. Your chest puffed up with pride, a nod towards Caracalla in appreciation, even if you knew his dementia had gotten the best of him, he never stopped feeling happy for his brother.
“UNACCEPTABLE!” Your head and Geta’s turned to look at the man at the back, an Alpha, getting up from his seat as he walked to the middle of the room, facing the emperors and yourself. “Rome has never been ruled by an Omega and never will! Omegas are at the bottom of the class chart, and you are no exception! Demoted! BEHEADED! You must be demoted–”
Before he could finish his sentence, his head was falling to the floor. Everyone sat in silence as they shivered, some peed themselves in fear, and even Alphas were about to whimper as they looked at the sword that was dripping blood and then at the bearer of it. Your eyes were looking at how the headless body now fell to the floor, your eyes moving upwards to the council in front of you.
“The moment you touch one single hair of his… is the moment I kill your kin in front of your eyes, and I shove their guts down your throats.” The men in the room stayed silent, even the women who served as concubines and servers who stood in a corner of the room. Your eyes scanned everyone as you raised the bloodied sword to them.
“This–” A man tried to respond, but your eyes dug deep into his skull before he could finish.
“Emperor Geta will rule Rome. My army is already on its way here, an army of 3,000 men and women. Barbarians that the only way they know to fight is to rip the intestines raw from your stomachs and strangle you with them.” You lowered your sword as you turned to look at everyone in the room. “The moment you do something to him, is the moment I burn Rome down. No man, woman, child, baby, or dog will be spared. There will be nothing left to rule.”
The room stayed silent for just a few seconds before one of the men raised his hand up in acceptance and surrender. The rest followed through.
The people were not happy, but as they saw your soldiers on the street, witnessing how vicious they were to whoever protested, they calmed down. They have swallowed the fact an Omega is now ruling Rome, their home, fearing for their lives. Nobody had ever tried to take Geta down. Not when you are standing right behind him every second of every day, like his own personal shadow.
“I have one more surprise for you, my love.” You whispered into Geta’s ear, and he smiled as he got up from his chair, seeing all the gladiators now dead on the ring thanks to your men. Guts were all over the dirt as if a painter had done marvelous work. Your men stood in a wide circle as a gate opened, a figure walking in, stumbling. Geta’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you. “I may have kept him alive and lied to you about his departure to savor this moment.”
The Emperor looked back to the field, a small smile appearing on his lips as the crowd remained quiet. Caius stood in the middle of the field, beard now on his features, much more skinnier, bruises on his skin and a sack of potatoes as his only clothes. He looked up at the emperor with tears rolling down his eyes.
“Just for me…”
“He locked you in, intending to murder you. You and I were lucky that the Alpha in that room was me, my sun.” Geta turned around to face you, leaning down to place an appreciative kiss on your lips. Displays of affection were not something common and were frowned upon for indecency, but he couldn’t help himself, and he was the emperor. He could do whatever he pleased. You moaned into the kiss, and he pulled away with a smile, turning around once more, looking down at the doctor who had betrayed him months back.
“Mercy… I ask for mercy, please!” He begged. Mercy? Geta's top lip twitched as he snarled at the man, his right hand coming to rest on his belly. His left hand raised up, thumb right in the middle as you stood behind him. There was no shakiness in his hand. This is Rome. Your Omega’s rome. And you will defend it and him until the day you perish.
And Geta’s finger turned downwards.
the end
a/n: look, i did say the demons won, and this is not everyone's cup of tea, i do know this, but this man is not an alpha. also, a reblog helps
i will tag a few people that interacted with the geta posts: @keeryhours @doomsdaybby @userchai @xgrxcefulx
Warnings: 18+, crazy caracalla, p in v, fluffy wedding cutness
a/n: on a spicey scale this felt like it was three out of five chilis while writing it, as always i suck at warnings tell me if i missed something
dividers by @dividers-are-us
Getting married to an Emperor of Rome was no small thing. The endless planning and the parties that led up to the ceremony were mind-boggling. The Palatium had been celebrating a marriage that hadn’t officially happened for half a year. At each party you found yourself dripping in more jewels and finer silks. None of the jewels or fabrics meant much to you except the ring that once adorned your betrothed’s pinky finger. Some would call it ridiculous for an emperor to give his own jewel as the sponsalia ring of a soon-to-be empress, but the gold band set with a blue stone was all the more special knowing it had once been his.
Now you sat at the head table, trying to enjoy the final celebrations before the wedding tomorrow, dressed in the finest white silks and covered in gold jewelry you could never have dreamed of wearing. As you watched the festivities around you, you suddenly felt the hand of your betrothed resting high on your thigh, hidden by the table.
“Angellus.” Geta lowered his voice, wanting only you to hear. “What troubles you so? Do you not enjoy the festivities thrown in your honor?”
You slid your hand over his so both rested on your thigh. “Of course I do, my love.” You intertwined your fingers with his. “I am just tired. With all the lead-up to our marriage, I’ll admit I’m ready for us to actually be married and for me to call you my husband.”
The softest smile you had ever seen found its way to the fearsome emperor’s face. He lifted your hand from under the table and placed a kiss on the back of it. “I understand all too well, Angellus.” He was about to say more when his troublesome brother threw a wine goblet at a servant and stormed from the room. Geta sighed and rested his forehead against the back of your hand.
“I had hoped he would have warmed to you in these months leading up to tomorrow,” he said, “but that seems to be a dream not meant to come true.”
You caressed the side of his face when he raised his head. “Caracalla has spent much more of his life having you to himself than having to share you with me. He will adjust in time.”
Geta rested his cheek in your palm. “Are you sure?” He looked defeated for a moment.
“We will help him cope. Don’t stress about it now—we’re supposed to be joyous and happy. We’re getting married tomorrow.” Geta turned his head and laid a kiss on your open palm. “And after the marriage ceremony comes the marriage bed, my Angellus.” His eyes darkened at the thought. “I’ve missed you in my bed these months. Preventing a child out of wedlock is important, yes, but at what cost to us?”
You couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh at your soon-to-be husband. “In just hours you won’t have to worry anymore, my love.” The hunger in his eyes did not dissipate.
Without another word he stood from his throne, your hand still clasped in his, and began to lead you out of the still lively banquet. “Geta, we cannot!” you tried to scold him as he guided you into the hallways to find the nearest alcove with a drape covering the entrance.
“Oh, we can, Angellus,” he said as he pulled you into a private space hidden away from the world. You didn’t have a chance to respond before you were backed against the cool stone wall, Geta’s hands on either side of your face, kissing you hotly as if his life depended on it. He swallowed the moan that threatened to echo down the hallway just steps away.
“Quiet, Angellus. We wouldn’t want to cause a scandal mere hours before we are to be wed.” A trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses left a path down your throat. “My sweet, soft Angellus—how am I supposed to resist you? All warm and wanting, waiting for me to love you.”
A ring-clad hand gently gripped your throat and squeezed ever so slightly. “The bedding ceremony will be pointless if any of those foolish senators think I’ll wait till then to bed my wife.” The intense eye contact made you weak at the knees. Geta licked a hot strip up the side of your cheek, and you practically gushed with arousal.
“I am going to devour you, make you scream so loud nobody will ever question that you’re mine.” Your mouths were so close you were not quite kissing but sharing breath.
“Geta,” you breathed into his mouth. He kissed you again before ripping himself away, breathing heavily. “Go,” he ordered.
You didn’t move for a moment, frozen by the heat between you. “My love,” his voice broke a little, “you must go before I lose myself and cannot hold back any longer.” His eyes softened as he lifted the drape that protected you both from the world.
“I will see you on the morrow, my Geta.” You slipped silently down the hallway toward your rooms to begin preparing to marry the man you loved in the morning.
Try as you might, you did not sleep well after your alcove encounter with Geta—it only made you yearn for him more. So when your servants finally entered your room to begin preparations, it was a welcome sight.
“We are here to help you prepare, Domina,” the lead servant said.
With a nod of your head, a whirlwind of preparation began. You were bathed and anointed with the finest oils; your hair was washed and styled into a magnificent bun at the base of your skull, secured with a golden hairpiece that spanned the width of your styled hair, delicate golden chains helping to keep it in place.
The dress made for you was even more magnificent—layers of the finest silks the imperial seamstresses could acquire, with so much golden embroidery it seemed to double the weight of the garment. The neckline appeared to have a necklace sewn into it, with small beads and golden coins that shimmered under the light and gave a soft tinkling sound as you moved, before disappearing behind the silk cape attached to your shoulders.
The last adornment was your veil, made of the most delicate silk, nearly transparent if not for the tiny hand-sewn golden flowers scattered across its expanse.
“Domina, you are ready,” one servant announced, as you were guided to a floor-to-ceiling mirror to take one final look at yourself.
This was it. You had started as a lowly servant, and now you were mere moments away from becoming Empress of Rome—the strongest empire in the world. With the final touch of golden dots painted along your lower lash line, you took a steadying breath and nodded, signaling that you were prepared.
The doors to your chambers opened, and you stepped out for the final time.
The palace hallways were draped with curtains, vases of flowers placed every few feet, as you made your last walk as a servant girl. Surrounded by the finest palace guards, you moved slowly toward the closed doors of the throne room. Trumpets blared, announcing your arrival. Moments later, the crowd inside erupted in cheers—you could only assume Geta had taken his place upon his dais.
The lead guard stepped forward and bowed slightly. “It is time, Domina.”
You nodded once, nerves flaring in your stomach for the first time that day. The guards stepped back, the great doors swung open, and you were met with the most deafening applause you thought you would ever hear. The palace floor was invisible beneath a thick layer of yellow crocus petals, covering what seemed to be the entire expanse.
As you walked slowly up the aisle, the guests on either side tossed more petals, which rained down upon you as they bowed deeply. You hardly noticed anything around you—your beaming smile and shining eyes were only for Geta.
When you began your ascent up the stairs toward the dais, Geta rose from his throne, dressed in golden silken finery to match your own. At the top of the stairs, you curtsied deeply before him.
After you were anointed with oils and blessed by the Pontiffs, a red velvet pillow was brought forth, bearing a smaller, more delicate version of Geta’s own laurels. You dipped your head slightly, and he gently placed the wreath upon your brow.
When you lifted your gaze again, you found nothing but sheer adoration across his face. Taking your hand in his, he raised his voice so that all within the throne room could hear:
“Romans! Your Empress!”
Another deafening roar rose from the crowd. Geta raised your hand and kissed it, his voice lowering to a possessive murmur meant only for you:
“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”
For one brief moment, you shared a private exchange in the midst of the grand ceremony, before you and your Emperor husband turned to walk back down the aisle—this time hand in hand—through the sweet shower of flower petals.
You're barely free of the throne room—the doors slam shut behind you—when Geta means to whisk you away to somewhere more private, but all plans to do so come to a screeching halt.
“Brother. Sister,” Caracalla sneers as he emerges from a side hallway that leads to and from the dais. “May your union be long, prosperous, and as happy as our dear mother and father were. Oh—sister, your parents had a happy union? Oh wait, you don’t even know who they are.” He goads, grinning as he watches anger flare across his brother’s face. “Well, may the feast be better than your elaborate spectacle in there.” With that, he walks away, money in tow.
You turn to face Geta; tension radiates off him. “Do not let him rile you up, husband—especially not today of all days. We are meant to be happy, not fighting your brother.” You place a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Surely you can’t already start ignoring your wife after only minutes of marriage,” you add with a sly smile.
Geta sighs and cups the side of your face. “Surely, after only minutes of marriage, you—dear wife—will not already try to boss your husband around. I am an emperor; I am not supposed to answer to anyone.” He strokes his thumb along your cheek.
“Well, I am an empress now, so maybe sometimes you can answer to me.” You can’t stop the grin that reaches your eyes. “Power-hungry already—what ever shall I do with you, husband?”
“Kiss me, husband.” What begins as a gentle kiss quickly becomes heated. Much to both your dismay, a throat clears behind you, reminding you that you stand in a very public hallway and that your moment of private intimacy has passed.
For an all-powerful emperor, the way he hides his face in the side of your neck beneath your veil is almost comical. He stays there a moment before meeting your eyes again. “You look beautiful, my Angellus.”
“You look handsome, my love.” You share one more heated kiss before allowing yourselves to be led to the celebratory feast, which is no doubt already underway.
Hours later, after countless speeches and many thanks given to the gods and the assembled citizens who celebrate the Emperor and his new Empress, you and Geta have been trading looks for the last hour, trying to make your escape. As the guests of honor, it proves difficult—until the entertainment changes and everyone is distracted by fantastical new tricks. That is when you both manage to slip away.
Darkness has fallen. The hallways are dim and eerily empty; the servants were instructed to be more invisible than usual once the sun went down. Geta removes a torch from the wall with one hand and takes yours with the other as you walk down the corridor, which has been gently strewn with flower petals leading to your rooms. The only souls you encounter on the entire journey are the guards posted at your door, who open it to let you in.
You gasp as Geta leads you inside: thick layers of rose petals cover the floor, candles glow softly, and vases overflow with blooms on every surface. The air is more fragrant than anything you have ever smelled.
When you reach the middle of the room you spin, taking it all in. “Geta,” you whisper, truly speechless.
“A flower for every thought I have had of you, Angellus,” he says softly.
That alone melts your heart. “Do you know how many times I tried to come for you after that first night?” he continues, kissing you tenderly. “How many times I counted the stars to keep my mind off you?” He kisses you again as he guides you toward the bed. “How many excuses I made to avoid having other servants sent to me—”
He kisses you with such passion that it takes your breath away, and you sink down together onto the edge of the bed.
“There is—and there never will be—anyone but you.” You are unable to speak around the lump in your throat, so all you can do is lean forward, press your mouth to his, and hope he understands the depth of your love.
As the kisses and caresses grow more sensual, the practical task of disrobing remains. “You look so beautiful…but how in the gods’ names does one take off such an exquisite gown as this?” he murmurs. You laugh into his mouth and reach up to the brooches that fasten your cape at the shoulders.
“It’s all in the shoulders,” you tell him with a smirk, and begin to undo the pins together.
When one brooch is free and the fabric starts to fall from your frame, the spark in Geta's eye is instant. While you’re not bare yet, he can fondle your breast and duck your nipple through the lesser layers of silk. You reach up to remove his laurels and curly ginger wig so you can see the real him, tossing them both carelessly on a nearby chair. Both of you, with your wandering hands, manage to remove regalia in what has to be record time.
As you lean back on your elbows, you take a moment to openly stare at your husband—his thick arms and toned stomach, with a trail of hair that leads from his navel to the short mound of curly brown hair surrounding his erect and throbbing member. Geta tilts his head, his eyes boring into you.
“See something you like, dear wife?” he asks as he begins to leisurely stroke his shaft.
“Very much so, husband,” you hum. “You claim to be such a master wielding a weapon—” You run a delicate foot up his abdomen and let it rest there, cocking your head to the side and goading him. “So prove it.”
His eyes darken and a sardonic chuckle leaves his mouth. “Oh, Angellus, I’ll show you exactly what I can do with my weapon.” He lifts your foot to drape it over his shoulder and gently kisses the protruding bone before kneeling on the bed, preparing to feast upon you.
“The great Emperor Geta on his knees—what would your empire say?” you tease, trying to get a reaction out of him, and judging by the look on his face, you’re about to succeed.
“Watch yourself, Empress, or the only person here who will be on their knees is you.” He punctuates the sentence by sliding a finger into your already dripping hole.
You arch your back and moan his name as he slowly thrusts his finger inside before adding a second. “Not so ready to try and get a reaction out of me now, are you, Empress?” He starts to twist and move his hand just right, making you squirm beneath him as he hits that spot inside you perfectly.
It’s not long before your legs are shaking, and he leans over you to gallantly swallow your cries. There’s a moment where you’re gasping for breath, not sure you can move at all, before Geta flips you onto all fours. You let out an undignified yelp that turns into a moan as Geta plunges his throbbing cock into your entrance.
“Gods, it’s been so long since I felt your wet heat around me,” he hisses as he inches himself in until his hips are flush with yours. He grabs a fistful of your tousled hair and gently pulls your head back. “Now that you’re mine, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.”
The pressure of Geta pulling your hair and the fullness of his cock has you screaming like a whore.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He roughly slaps your ass cheek with his free hand before leaning over to speak directly into your ear. “My wanton little slut—only my cock can make you act this way. Only my cock will fuck a baby into you. Only my cock will fuck you.” He releases your hair to wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze. “Come on my cock, you emperor’s whore.”
And that’s all it takes for you to come undone. You barely register Geta reaching his peak inside you, only realizing it when you feel the extra wet warmth leaking out around him. As his orgasm wracks his body, Geta doesn’t move right away, leaving only gentle kisses along your spine.
When he softens enough to slide out, you whine at the loss of him. Geta flops onto his back and gathers you in his arms, gently stroking your hair.
“Don’t whine, Angellus—we have all night. I’ll be inside you again.”
You just nuzzle his cheek as you start to doze off, languid and content.
Geta who eats you out on his throne.
Geta has taken over my entire mind and this needs to come out or I'll explode actually!
CW : Pussy eating, slight exhibitionism, almost getting caught.
Geta had been showing you the area where he and Caracalla sit during the Gladiator Games. A proud crooked smile on his face. It would be your first time viewing the games from such an angle.
Geta grabbed ahold of your hips and had you sit down in his throne. And when you looked up at him, his eyes flickered with possessiveness. As if you sitting in his throne meant that he owned you.
Geta hummed as he stared at you. His eyes trailing over your stola. "You look good like this, my dear" Geta rumbled.
"I'd hope I look good to you all the time, Geta" you say softly, which makes the emperor chuckle, his hands landing on your knees, rubbing up and down your thighs.
"You know you do" Geta hummed, pushing your stola embroidered with gold thread, up your legs. And you hold the fabric against your lower stomach.
Geta continued to run his hands up and down your thighs, his touch felt as though your blood burned with need. The Emperor always had such an effect on you. His rings sending a shiver down your spine from the chill of them.
"Must you always tease, Geta?"
"Of course I must. I enjoy watching you become desperate for me"
You groaned in frustration at that. Your cunt was throbbing desperately now. Feeling how sticky your panties had become.
You sighed in relief when Geta finally tugged your panties down, his hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them wide open so he'd have all access to what he called, "nectar from the Gods".
you gasped quietly as Geta buried his nose in the tuft of hair on your mound. he always loved smelling your natural scent, despite how flustered it made you.
Then you felt his tongue glide up between your wet folds. Your hips jolting at the contact.
"Geta!" You huffed impatiently. Moaning as Geta began to suck on your clit.
Your hands glided down to his hair, tugged the locks as your hips grind forward into Geta's insatiable mouth. His tongue lapping into you, as if he was stuck in the desert and your cunt was the oasis he'd been praying for.
Geta had eaten you out plenty of times. But this was by far the best. You had the sun shining down on you, Geta's mouth on your pussy, and the thrill of the idea that anyone could see you.
"Emperor?!" a guard called out, you weren't sure from where. But it made you jolt and look down at Geta with wide eyes.
"Geta! Geta, a guard is going to see us!" you whisper in panic.
Geta pulls away, licking his lips. "Then I suggest you come in my mouth before he finds us" he grinned, before diving back in. Making you whimper desperately. Nodding in agreement.
You try to muffle your moans and whimpers as Geta doubles his efforts. Covering your mouth and tipping your head back to rest against the back of the throne.
"Close!" You moan into your hand, just loud enough for Geta to hear.
"Emperor?! Are you up here?! You have a meeting with the council!" The guard called out, just as the coil in your stomach began to rapidly tighten.
Geta then began humming around your clit. Your hand slamming down on the arm rest of the throne as you unexpectedly came.
Your orgasm ripped through you, feeling as though every nerve in your body was alight. Your eyes rolling back.
When you finally came down from the high, Geta had pulled your panties back up and smoothed out your stola. Having stood up as the guard finally found the two of you.
"Ah, Emperor Geta" the guard said as he walked over. "I was worried you would miss your meeting with the council"
"Unfortunately I will be missing the meeting. As you can see, my fairest has tired herself out and I will be joining her in my chambers" Geta said with his usual smug smile. Making you glare at him with a scoff.
₊˚⊹♡ with an attempt on your life, the emperors become increasingly paranoid and protective.
₊˚⊹ emperor geta x fem!reader x emperor caracalla
₊˚⊹ masterlist.
₊˚⊹ based on this request. (3.8k words)
The tremors in your hands had almost entirely subsided, only flinching slightly with each loud movement. To say the atmosphere in your room was tense would be an understatement. The entire palace was frozen with uncertainty and fear. You sat in a chair with one of your arms resting on the table next to you. The only other people in the room were the healer tending to the gash on your arm and a few guards, including the head of security for the palace.
There was not a sound other than the healer muttering to himself as he stitched up your wound. Your other hand reached for poppy milk and took another swig of it to distract from the pain of a needle closing your wound. It seemed as though no amount of pain relief would help with your predicament.
Only a short hour ago had you fended off an assailant. For whatever reason, as you were spending a portion of the afternoon in your chambers, a cloaked figure snuck in and tried to kill you. You had been raking your brain for any possible answer, but the only definitive one would be the simple fact: you were both the emperor’s lover. You could remember Geta and Caracalla speaking to you about safety regarding your relationship with them, but never for a moment did you ever think it would come close to this.
It was terrifying and everywhere you looked you would think a threat would be there. Geta and Caracalla were at the senate for some proceedings that were scheduled to take place for the whole afternoon. They had only been gone for a little over an hour when the assassin had snuck into your chambers.
Your eyes scanned back to the five guards. One on the end, a lower guard, was the only one who had blood on him. He had been the one to hear your shouts as you fended off the attacker and had come to your rescue. You did not know his name, but wanted to thank him for his efforts.
Another drive of the needle had you flinching in pain. However, you could hear the sound of thundering footsteps through the hall outside your door. The doors were pushed open furiously, both reeling back and hitting the wall; any harder and you were sure they would have broken. Geta and Caracalla stood before you, chests heaving equally and eyes with the same reflection of worry as they scanned the room. Seeing you off to the side, they surged forward. The guards and healer kept silent, aware of the coming storm.
Yet, there seemed to be nothing loud. No, the emperors came beside your chair with a simmering rage. Geta knelt and took your free hand in his while his eyes scanned your body for other injuries. Caracalla stood with a free hand holding your jaw, his thumb swiping soothing back and forth across your chin.
“Are you alright?” Geta’s soft voice broke the tension. He was unusually calm, simmering with something dark under the surface. Caracalla was the same, straight posture and calm.
It somehow unsettled you more than if they were lashing out.
“I’m okay, truly,” You gave them both a faint smile, “Only a little scratched up.”
“A little scratched up?” Caracalla spoke. His shoulders rose up and down with each restrained breath. His vision cast down to the healer who was stitching the large gash on your arm. “This is a little scratched up?”
“Brother.” Geta sent a warning glance his way, but it went ignored.
Caracalla turned to the guards before him. You could hear him take in a large inhale of air as if trying to cool the burning fire that crackled within. You exchanged a wary look with Geta, unsure if something would trigger another one of his episodes. It hurt to see him in such a state.
“You,” Caracalla addressed the head palace guard, “You have a few seconds to explain why our lady was hurt under your watch or I will gut you right here.”
The guard's face contorted into both confusion and terror, but he choked it back, “The assassin has been subdued and is locked up, Caesar.”
“Locked up? Good… good. He is not dead yet.” Caracalla turned back to you, or more precisely, your wounded arm laid out on the table, “But you have not explained to me why she is sitting there with a needle piercing her arm.”
“Yes,” Geta chimed in. He stood up but still held your hand, “Do tell us how she was harmed under your watch,”
The head guard looked from emperor to emperor. A bead of sweat was visible on his temple next to a prominent vein. The healer tied off the stitching and you hissed under your breath. The sudden movement pulled you away from the tension in the room. The healer began to wipe the last of the dried blood around the wound.
“Caesars, the guard does not account for the protection of palace maids and–”
“What did you say?” Geta interrupted. The brothers exchanged glances. You knew immediately that this situation was quickly becoming dire. The guard had called you a maid. While that was your previous job, you had been relieved of your duties many moons ago after the emperors became enamoured with you.
“Caesar, I–” The man gulped.
“Give me your sword.” Caracalla’s tone was one you knew well. It was the same level of cadence that would come over him before he lashed out. Geta sensed the same thing and moved to stand beside his brother.
“Caesar?” The man questioned.
“Give me your sword so I may gut you with it!” Caracalla lunged forward, attempting to beat the guard with nothing but his bare hands, but was caught at the waist by Geta who held him back.
“Say that about her again! I’ll fucking crucify you!” Geta struggled to hold his brother back. Caracalla was inconsolable, only intending to exact what he thought was just by gutting the man who uttered a single word against you. Geta secretly wished to unleash his brother on the guard but knew it would only cause more of a scene of distress in front of you which was not needed.
The healer made quick work of wrapping your arm in bandages. You thanked him quickly and dismissed him from the room. Caracalla was still fighting back against his brother’s hold when you decided that it was all enough.
“Stop! Do not hurt him.” You yelled as you stood from your chair. Almost instantly, Caracalla’s body went limp and the twins turned to you like you had said something utterly insane.
“This man’s negligence has led to your near death. You cannot possibly think that we will let him get away with it.” Geta spoke. You let out a long breath and walked up to them.
Lowering your voice, you spoke again, “I am aware, but I no longer wish to see any more violence for today.”
“But–” Caracalla moved to argue, but you silenced him with a look. You turned back to the five guards and hoped that they would listen to your instruction, given that you were technically not a ranking member of the palace.
“You three, escort him to the dungeons so he may wait out proper punishment for his negligence. He may not have thought of the safety of the maids, but an assassin got in here regardless and could have very well gone for our emperors.” Your words were met with action. They followed your instructions and seized the head guard. He tried to plead and beg his case, but you ignored it as he was dragged out of the room. There was one final guard who stood standing in front of you and the twins.
“What is your name?” You asked the man. He was older than the other guards, coming up on the precipice of life if the white hairs he sported were any indication.
“Theocles, my lady.” He answered.
“I thank you, Theocles. Without your quick acting to come to my aid I would likely be dead.” At the mention of your possible death, the twins that stood at both of your sides tensed.
“I am happy to be of service, my lady,” He smiled gently and for a brief moment it reminded you of the warm welcoming face of a grandfather.
“We thank you as well, Theocles, for saving our lady,” Geta spoke up. Caracalla was still nerved beside you, unable to speak as he recovered from his outburst. His hands gripped your right hand as if clinging to your presence. The weight of what nearly happened to you was only now completely sinking in.
“I am simply a servant of the empire, Caesar. I humbly apologize for our negligence. The intruder should have never made it past the gates.” He seemed genuinely upset at this incident, having taken pride in his work.
“Yes, it never should have happened,” Caracalla muttered angrily. His gaze stayed locked on your hand as he drew shapes onto your palm.
“You are dismissed for the day to recuperate from your efforts,” Geta said. Theocles nodded and bowed before walking out of the room and shutting the doors after him. It left the three of you alone. Caracalla looked over your face again before moving closer and burying his head in your chest. Geta stood behind you with his chin on your shoulder.
There was nothing but silence for a few minutes. The weight of tension in the room slowly lowered. You could hear nothing but their calm and steady breaths.
“You will be guarded every hour,” Geta mumbled as his lips brushed over your neck, “No less than ten praetorians.”
“Ten?” You were shocked by the proposition. Geta’s arms that were wrapped around your waist, just above Caracalla’s arms, tightened.
“A whole legion,” Caracalla mumbled into the skin of your chest.
“Surely they have more duties in the city,” You reasoned, “Ten is too much.”
Geta scoffed, “Ten is the minimum.” You felt that there may be an argument brewing. Ten guards was far too much and you could already feel how stifling that would be. You had gone your whole life without a single guard, not even when traversing the streets of Rome. Yet, your change of position has altered your life significantly. Still, you did not wish to be suffocated by protection.
“Five,” You proposed. While five still felt extreme to you, it would be enough to calm their worries about your safety.
“Ten.” Caracalla backed up his brother.
“Five.” You were not willing to go up any further.
“Nine,” Geta lifted his chin from your shoulder to rest his forehead against your temple. Caracalla’s hands moved under a slip in the fabric of your clothing, his hands trailing over the bare skin of your side. You could already tell that they were trying to distract you to get their way – a tactic they often employed.
You would not back down.
“Five.” You repeated. Geta let out a small huff.
“Seven.” Caracalla reasoned. His hands moved to brush just above your ass. You grabbed them and moved them up further, unwilling to compromise.
“Five.” The tone of finality in your voice made them halt their movements. It was a tense standoff, but one you knew you would win. If there was one thing that challenged their selfish tendencies, it would be their need for validation from you.
After a few moments, they both relented.
“Five it is then,” Geta answered.
You should have known that Geta and Caracalla would become more paranoid. It was inevitable. What started as five guards gradually morphed into twenty over two months. Five surrounded you at all times, escorting you wherever you wished to go. The other fifteen blended in the background. They were at a distance, acting as though they were not watching over you, but they were and you could tell.
Other measures were drawn up to protect you. On your trips to the market, there would be a collective of guards patrolling the streets more heavily than normal – all under the guise of collecting taxes from stall owners. You knew it was specific instructions from Geta and Caracalla, but chose to not say anything. You thought it would end eventually, but had been wrong.
It all came to a head one afternoon as you walked about the gardens. The heavy clanging of Theocles’ armour disturbed the gentle chatter of birds that flew from fruit tree to fruit tree. It was a grating sound, but it compounded more when you were able to tune into the sounds of other guards a few paces behind Theocles. The day after your attack, he had been named as your personal guard.
It was the only benefit to your situation that was starting to feel more like imprisonment. Theocles was like a grandfather, protective but funny. He took the job seriously but still relaxed when he needed to in order to cheer you up. However, on this day, you had become particularly irritated.
You halted, which was met by the guards behind you also stopping. You took large breaths to calm yourself before turning around.
“Theocles,” You spoke, “Do you know where the emperors are?”
“To my knowledge, they are in their study, my lady,” He answered. You nodded gratefully and changed directions from where you had originally been walking.
You moved with a purpose through the halls of the palace, your anger brewing. This place was once a paradise for you, where you could spend your days relaxing and relishing in the company of your lovers. Now, it had become nothing but a gilded cage that shrunk each day, moving to suffocate you.
The doors to their study came into view and you stopped to speak to your guards.
“You are to stay out here.” You instructed.
“My lady, we are instructed to never let you leave from our sight,” Theocles answered.
“Believe me, with my anger right now, nobody should wish to cross me. Despite that, the emperors would protect me from anything. Now, do you wish to be present in what will likely be a very uncomfortable conversation for you to witness?” You crossed your arms and tapped your right foot against the stone flooring as you waited for an answer.
After a momentary pause, Theocles answered, “We shall wait for you, my lady.”
You nodded before he opened the door for you to walk in, closing it when you got in. The emperor's study was an open room with floor-to-ceiling shelves full of carved bronze records, waxed tablets, and sheets of papyrus. There were two desks placed a few feet away from the other with Geta and Caracalla staring down at their work. Geta’s desk was clean and organized, while Caracalla’s represented the whirlwind of his personality.
When you walked in, they did not look up at you. Dondas, who was perched on Caracalla’s desk eating some pieces of fruit spotted you and chittered in delight. He jumped off of the desk and ran to you, crawling up your leg and torso to perch on your shoulder. For a brief moment, his presence cheered your angered thoughts.
Caracalla looked up when his friend left and his face lit up upon seeing you.
“My love,” He spoke, which gained Geta’s attention and he too looked up to see you. However, both their smiles faltered slightly upon seeing the grim look on your face. You scratched Dondas’ chin and placed him on a cushy chair so he would not have to be near you when you inevitably started to shout.
“I’ve had enough.” You said.
“Enough?” Geta asked.
“Enough of the constant watch. I know you wish to protect me but there is a limit to what a person can endure.” You walked up to stand in front of their desks.
“It is for your own good–” Caracalla began to reason but you scoffed to interrupt him.
“My own good? It has been two months, yet every day there is something new. Another guard, more patrols, you have even gotten a fourth poison tester for my food! As if one was not enough!” You threw your arms out as if that would help to enunciate your words. The frustration you had been feeling for weeks had boiled over into an explosive reactive mess.
“All to keep you safe,” Geta stood from his chair, moved to you and reached out to wrap you in his arms. You backed away from his hold. You would not allow any of them to try and sugar their words to get you to accept the situation.
“Do you not think I haven’t noticed the other fifteen guards that are secretly following me? One does not need to be a master of arithmetic to see that is well above the ten you tried to enforce in the first place!” You argued. Caracalla and Geta exchanged a look, finally understanding that you caught on to their attempt to secretly go against their word on the original agreement of five guards.
“Darling, we are sorry for going behind your back, but your safety is our priority. Do you think that assassin was only a one-time event?” Geta asked. Your mouth closed at that and you mulled over his words. It had been a brewing fear that you refused to admit.
If you were to admit it to yourself, to even say it aloud, it would be real. You were no fool. You understood the threat of this city, especially towards the emperors, but you thought that you would not matter. In the eyes of the court, you were just a lover to them and nothing more.
“I just thought that I would not matter. I do not come from a known family or the level of society you were raised in. Why bother with me?”
Caracalla let out a giggle as he rose from his chair to approach where you stood. He was not laughing at you, but rather the absurdity of your words.
“Why bother with you?” He mimicked your question, “You are our most precious jewel. That is why you must be protected at all costs.” His hands tugged at the loose sleeve of your dress.
“But to the extent that you have gone to…” Your voice trailed off.
“There can be no threats to our empress,” Geta spoke as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You could feel the cold of his rings through the thin silk fabric. That did not shock you nearly as much as how he addressed you.
Empress…
“Empress?” You scolded, “This is not a joking conversation. I am being serious.”
“We are as well,” Caracalla answered. His face lost all the traces of his previous amusement. You turned to Geta and saw nothing but sincerity. It felt… odd.
“What?” You questioned.
The two men exchanged a glance. In it, you could see they were communicating as if they had already had this conversation. Geta guided you towards his chair and had you sit down. He began to rifle through the drawers of his desk while Caracalla perched on one of the armrests. His fingers moved through your hair, brushing loose strands to go behind your ear.
“Now may not be the most appropriate time, but we realize that it cannot be held off any longer,” Caracalla spoke to you in a hushed, calm tone.
Geta finally found whatever he was looking for and pulled out a gold box from the desk. He turned to you and leaned against the desk. He carefully opened the box, exposing a large, intricately made gold ring adorned with large jewels. You stared at it for a moment, fully understanding what they were speaking about. Your body felt like it shut down, unable to comprehend it.
Your mouth opened and closed multiple times as your mind was unable to come up with any response. You could not help but feel as though it was not real.
“Is this your way of distracting from the reason I originally came here? If so, I must admit it is undeniably cruel.” You shifted in the chair as if you were going to move, but Caracalla gently pushed back on your shoulders to keep you in place.
“My love,” Geta got down on both knees in front of you, followed by his brother, “We are serious.”
“Be our empress?” Caracalla questioned. Your chest tightened, completely transfixed by looking back and forth between their eyes.
“The senate… the people… they already whisper things…” There had been much disapproval of your relationship with the emperors. When the court saw that it became more serious than a concubine relationship, whispers spread of negativity – especially due to your lack of privileged upbringing.
“Let them talk. They do not exist now. It matters what you want.” Geta reassured you. His grip on the box tightened as if he was losing control of the situation; losing hope for a positive answer.
“I shall have more freedom and go back to five guards.” You negotiated. Both of their eyes lit up; you had given them an answer.
“You are agreeing?” Caracalla asked.
“I also wish for more opportunities to traverse the merchant stalls.” You added.
“It is a yes?” Geta asked.
Your face broke into a large grin and you nodded excitedly, “Of course, it is a yes.” Both of them seemed to let out the breaths they were holding. Caracalla instantly moved up, cupping your face with both of his hands and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His eagerness and excitement shot through his body, being expressed through giddy jolts of his movement.
You could feel Geta put the ring on your finger, his hands incredibly warm compared to the coolness of the metal. When Caracalla pulled away, you were met with equal fervour of a kiss from Geta. It was possessive but also gentle in a strange, uniquely his, way.
When he pulled back, you spoke, “Do not forget the conditions I have set. I am tired of feeling like a prisoner here.”
“No more then. You will not be a caged bird in your own home.” Geta reasoned. His brother agreed, nodding his head feverishly. Both of them were caught up in the moment, too happy to particularly care about anything but you.
The atmosphere in the room had changed from an intense standoff to a joyous mood. You had not ever expected this outcome given your initial plan, but it was more than welcome.
It was with great surprise to Theocles, your other guards, and servants, that you later walked out of that room with both of the emperors and a rather large ring adorning your finger.
Summary: You visit the young princes in the palace.
Warnings: Fluff, (slight) angst
Work count: 400~
a/n: Keep in mind they are around 14-16 here and orphaned already. After looking through some deleted scenes from the script, I found that all the boys want is to be adopted and loved. Here is something short for that with the holidays and all.
More on my Master list! + follow & like pls
Caracalla hovered over his brother's slumbering form in bed and gently shook his arm. “Is she coming?” The young man nudged him harder. “Are you awake?”
Geta groaned and turned over. “I am now.”
“Is she coming?”
“She said she would, but I am unsure.” He groaned in the dark of his bedroom. He reached for a candle, “You need to go back to bed. Come on.” Caracalla trailed behind his brother as they made their way down the hall. A noise emanating from the emperor’s foyer piqued their interest. The two boys cautiously approached the source of the sound.
You stood in front of the fire, removing the fur coat from your back. “Yes, that would be perfect.” You replied as a servant offered tea. “Are the boys asleep?” The two peeked into the room from the corridor.
“Yes, the princes are still in their beds.”
“She is here early.” Caracalla whispered with a giggle.
“I can hear you two.” Your voice was rich and velvety as you called the two out. The two brothers stepped out from the shadow of the pillars. “Come here.”
****
You held Geta to your bosom as Caracalla lay on your lap. Your fingertips buried in the eldest son’s hair; your opposite hand rubbed Caracalla’s back. “They treat us like we are our father.” Geta murmured.
“The people of Rome should be grateful for you two.” Caracalla turned up, staring at you. “Rome, she will soon see, my boys.”
Geta closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet aroma of lilies and vanilla that surrounded you. Your skin was smooth and sun-kissed, reminiscent of freshly harvested honey. Caracalla nestled against your thigh, soaking in the warmth emanating from you. “The people are now celebrating with their families.”
“Yes, the winter solstice.” Caracalla leaned close, speaking softly into your clothing. Meanwhile, his brother stepped outside onto the open veranda, gazing down at the bustling city square below. The square was alive with people—some joyful, some inebriated, and others lost in dance.
“You both used to celebrate with your parents, yes?” The two went silent. Your fingertips cupped Caracalla’s face. “Well, you can celebrate with me.” Geta accepted your soft gaze finally, looking into your eyes. “Ah, I nearly forgot. I brought gifts from home!” You stood and Caracalla followed you.
From your trunk, you take out a few velvet boxes. “I, I have been reading your…your letter at night.” Caracalla fished for a worn paper from his robe.
“Aren’t you cute…” You present the two of them with a variety of gifts. “I have missed you both so much.”
