#they're making me insane your honor

[8xlewis]

I KNEW there was no way Carlos wouldn’t get a place close to Lando if there was one available fhtghghhyf Monaco is small anyway but there’s a difference between a 5 minute walk and a 30 minute walk… good for them, now it’s so easy for them to sneak around without anyone even realizing

!!!!! literally this! 1. carlos definitely has the money (and availability, I presume) to get a place close to lando's, which 2. means it's the PERFECT place for him to live and visit lando or vice versa all they want!! it's the perfect plan imo 🤭

[elven-beckons]

Sillies I should put here (yes I did spell Chauffeur wrong, I KNOWW) They’re continuing to live rent-free in my head.

[holyblanchett]

The fact that Rio freaks out the moment she loses sight of Agatha. I can't with them just kiss and make up already.

[ellaspore]

High School Frenemy is taking over my brain and I cannot stop thinking about it 

I think of Saint in the past, alcoholic father, absent mother, unmoored and unrestrained, his anger festering inside himself, violence the only way to let his feelings out

And the way that Shin is his anchor, his everything, his motivation purpose and will to live, the thing most precious to him, the only person to really care about him and take care of him

And the way in the past, no matter the importance Shin had for him, how he was unable to articulate himself out loud, to share his love, his care, the way he needed to use excuses to do things for Shin

The way Saint showed his love through actions and his presence

The way his fear of Shin leaving him transformed into anger, into hurting Shine and became the biggest mistake of his life

I think of Shin in the past, absent father, a mother who left him to care for his little sister. The only person always there for him cheering his games, sharing his dream, being Saint.

How Saint was there to always take care of him in his darkest moments, to keep him from being hurt, to make him laugh

How Shin was always saying how important Saint was for him, how he was always there to save Saint from himself

And then it all went to shit and they were both left in shambles

Saint with his guilt and inability to even face Shin because of what he did 

Shin hurt and alone without his best friend there to help him

How their relationship was changed by the trauma and the absence, how it became this powerful thing they couldn’t let go of, this hurt, this yearning, this unhealed festering wound, kept deep within themselves 

The way Saint couldn’t stay away from Shin and he tried to see him but was sent away by his mother, and the way he had to just accept it because he did not deserve Shin even if it was what he wanted and needed the most and how depressed it made him and how he kept trying to find indirect ways to see Shin, because even a glance would have been better than nothing

How Saint spent three years in a half-dead state, atoning for what he did to the person who mattered the most, never resorting to violence again, being beaten and taking it because it was what he deserved

How Shin named his gang Tsunami because he hadn’t left even then, how all his friendships never reached the same level as the one with Saint, how there was always a wall between himself and the rest of the world, how nobody could take care of him but he took care of everyone

How he resorted to violence because he couldn’t take the loneliness and anger anymore

How in a way he took Saint’s worst traits and made them a part of himself

And then I think of when they meet again, under the rain, under the same umbrella, how it felt like a miracle for Saint, his dreams coming true, Shin in his reach again, how he had another chance and he would take everything if it meant being with Shin again

And how Shin felt betrayed and was angry because he couldn't trust Shin, he couldn’t believe he wouldn’t run away 

And so Saint had to prove it all, prove his resistance his willingness to bear it all and in the end Shin could do nothing but capitulate because he missed Saint more than he missed soccer, more than his lost future because Saint gives him meaning just as much as Shin gives meaning to Saint

How the tables turned and now it’s Saint declaring his love for the world to see because he bottled his feelings for 3 years and he can’t contain them anymore and if he doesn’t get another chance at least he was able to say it all.

And how after they cleared the air they feel alive, like different people, able to smile freely, using every excuse to spend time together, to touch each other, to test and see that this is real, they’re together again

And I’m in love with how they feel like platonic soulmates but there is still something more, a romantic undertone just waiting to happen when they’re on steadier ground sure of who they are, where they stand, because they are too happy to find each other again to risk it all so soon

They’re a potential just waiting for the right time to happen

[pat1encek1lls]

Live laugh love Byler

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Dallas wrestles Curly to the ground 'n when the little shit doesn't stop fightin', he bites him.

"OW, you asshole!" Curly wriggles around fruitlessly beneath Dallas' bony knees and when he can't get out, he reaches up and grabs for a fistful of Dallas' hair. Dallas sees it comin' 'n dives backwards out of the way, jabbin' Curly in the ribs. Curly uses the opportunity to shove Dallas hard off of him. Dally stumbles back and jumps to his feet, ready for Curly to do somethin' cheap like go for his ankles.

And then Curly does somethin' he's never done. Ever. He stops fightin'.

Dallas hesitates, blinkin' down at Curly starin' holes in the carpet. "C'mon asshole, you're not fakin' me out. I only fall for that shit once."

Curly glares up and Dallas and his eyes are wet and Dallas thinks fuck, if I broke that kid's arm again Tim is going to kill me. For good this time. He's beginning to wonder idly whether he'll bury him under the shed or just leave his ass out in an alley when Curly shoots up.

"Why the fuck aren't you ever like this with Pony?" The shock hits Dallas so hard he drops his fists.

"What?" Curly stares at him hard, hands clenchin' 'n unclenchin' at his side, eyes still shinin' in the low livin' room light.

"You'd never kick the shit out of Pony like you do to me." Oh holy fuckin' hell.

"Yeah, I do." Dallas rolls his eyes, drops down into the Shepard's threadbare couch. It's busted as hell, whatever pattern it may have once had faded 'n ripped 'n stained over the years.

"No, you don't!" Curly's damn near yellin' now but only Dallas glances at the apartment door. Not that the other tenants aren't used to it by now. And it's definitely not like they'd complain.

"Yeah, the hell, I do. I nearly put the kid's head through the wall last week. And Darry damn near cracked my skull for it." Dallas rolls his eyes. He's exaggeratin' a bit but he was damned if he was gonna tell Curly that Darry had lectured him like a kid and made him do the fuckin' dishes.

"Oh, great." Curly tosses his hair out of his eyes in a way that reminds Dallas of the ponys down at Buck's. Or Soda. Same difference. "So you only beat the shit out of me because Tim won't kick your ass for it." Curly stomps his foot and whips around, makin' for the hall.

"Oh my God." Dallas slides off the couch 'n grabs Curly's wrist before he can go far. Curly twists as hard as he can but Dallas holds him tight and the only thing he gets for his troubles is rug burn. "Give me a second before you do the whole run to your room 'n slam the door thing. Tim might be takin' Darry's advice about privacy 'n space 'n all that bull but I'm sure not. 'N I will come after your ass."

Curly stops fightin' 'n opts for scowlin' at Dallas, leanin' so there's as much room between them as possible. "Fuckin' fine."

"Well, I'll tell you somethin' both you 'n Pony have in common." Curly blinks wide, dark eyes at him 'n Dallas rolls his eyes. "You're both fuckin' stupid."

Curly kicks at the carpet 'n Dallas drops his wrist. "Pony's not stupid." Dallas flicks his ear hard 'n Curly yelps 'n socks Dallas in the stomach.

"Yeah, the hell he is. 'N so are you." Curly throws his hands up, makes for the door again. Dallas shoots one foot out 'n Curly comes down hard on the wood floor.

"OW, man, I can't even go to my own room in my own fuckin' house in peace with you around."

"No, you can't 'cause I'm not done talkin', stupid." Dallas crouches down so they're both sprawled in the hall. "I don't beat the shit out of Pony because he's... I dunno. He's softer."

Curly narrows his eyes but doesn't interrupt so Dallas just plows on ahead.

"Curly, you wouldn't allow anyone to do half the shit that the Curtis boys do. Ain't nobody callin' you honey or baby or any of that shit." Curly wrinkles his nose up 'n Dallas raises his eyebrows like that much is obvious. "'N you don't fight like the Curtis'. Last time I broke Steve's arm before the Curtis parents, well whatever, Mr. C nearly put my ass out on the street for good. Last time you broke my ribs we went out for Dairy Queen."

Curly leans back on his hands, stops lookin' wary just long enough to laugh. "God, the one down near the end of The Ribbon? I'm still banned from there, y'know? 'Cause I slammed your head into the voice box thingy."

"Can you shut up for five seconds?" Curly kicks a foot out at him 'n Dallas half-heartedly bats it away. "Pony 'n you are just... different people. Don't mean I like him more or nothin'."

Curly studies him with big eyes 'n Dallas can't help but think they had that shit in common too. Sometimes Pony could make him feel like a pinned spider just bein' picked apart.

"Alright, fine." Curly clambers to his feet, offers his hand to haul Dallas up. Dally takes it, then promptly yanks the kid into a hug. It scares both of them a lil' how Curly melts straight into it.

But then Curly jabs Dallas in the stomach and makes a break for the door and Dallas cackles 'n dives after him.

"Hey, let's go to Dairy Queen." Curly snatches Tim's keys off the table and they both spit into wide, connivin' grins.

"Long as I get to put a dent in Tim's bumper." Curly tosses Dallas the ring and Dallas snatches them out of the air. He grabs a bandaid from the cabinet 'n presses it into Curly's hand as he makes for the door. "For the bite."

"You probably gave me fuckin' rabies or somethin'."

"Yeah, well, it's my way of sayin' love ya kid."

[koretheundead]

the boyfriends ever, your honour

first post on tumblr after many long years ☝🏻

also first completed digital piece so yayyy

[euryleli]

Mike saying "it's Hawkins. It's not the same without you" is insane actually!

Someone mentioned that mike basically said will is his home which is 100% truth in my book!! But I also would like to point out something that keeps me awake at night - mike and will met in kindergarten, they were 5 years old!

Do they even remember a time where the other wasn't just... there? Do we think their early memories - unclear and hazy with the passing years - get so mixed up that mike and will can't even fathom the possibility that they weren't always mikeandwill?

Of course they're home to one another - how could it be any different?

[venivenias]

this fanfic.

[aelswiths]

AELSWITH IN 4x10 Part 2

[oftheironwilled]

told myself that I didn't ship jayvik but I'm becoming increasingly unwell about them rip

[cakemoney]

i don't want to die on any hills but i sometimes feel like I'm the only person who read the last scene of romeo and juliet

paris stands between romeo and juliet's tomb. he is not part of the audience; he has no idea juliet and romeo had secretly fallen in love and gotten married; he is not privy to the plot of the story. all he knows is that tensions between capulets and montagues are at an all-time high, and now a banished criminal is breaking into the capulet mausoleum. he does what anyone with the information that he has would think is honorable. romeo approaches, rambles at him unhinged and doesn't explain anything, and calls him a boy; a youth, the same way everyone else talks about romeo throughout the play. in fact, he does it again after he's killed him and come closer to see who it is:

this isn't meant to be a defense of paris, really; i think paris's character very much varies based on how his lines are performed, and depending on the production he could be anywhere between outright sleazy to obliviously presumptuous. it's certainly true that many of his lines are possessive of juliet, and that he is incredibly pushy about pursuing marriage, but no, he is not way older and definitely an adult. and i think that detail matters, because i think the real thesis of the play is unveiled when we reach the end and check the tally and realize that all five people who died—mercutio, tybalt, paris, romeo, and at last juliet—were all explicitly or implicitly referred to as young at some point.*

i see the point in the original post! the enforcing of patriarchy is absolutely a part of romeo and juliet, but it's woven into the greater premise; the social order and power that maintains the rivalry between the two houses is the same social order and power that disregards the opinions and agency of all the women in the play, starting from the very beginning when both ladies capulet and montague fail to deescalate the brawl. montague doesn't show up again until the end, but we see a lot of capulet, arguably responsible for setting most of the wheels in motion. in act 1 scene 2, he's in a good mood; he says outright that it's time to put the rivalry to rest, and tells paris that if he wants to marry juliet, "my will to her consent is but a part", that it matters whether or not juliet likes him. it's clear in his initial resistance to the marriage that he cares for her. but then tragedy strikes, he's reeling and upset, and though he was hesitant, he decides that the best course of action is for juliet to marry paris; and, having decided that, he flies off the handle when juliet disagrees. he had promised juliet to someone, so if juliet doesn't follow through, it will reflect poorly on him, and that's the last thing that he needs right now. his behavior is inconsistent; sometimes he's jovial and chill, but sometimes he's overtaken with fury and lashes out at people he has power over. his wife, just as before, is powerless and falls in line quickly; the nurse attempts to defend juliet, but once they are alone, she counsels juliet to accept her father's decision as the best outcome she can hope for. they live in a patriarchal society, and in this specific society, the patriarchy manifests in the form of a rivalry based on nothing but pride.

the patriarchs themselves are fully grown adults. they know that the rivalry is frivolous and perhaps even in bad faith. capulet is able to threaten violence (over some random servants crossing paths on a public street?) during the day and then dismiss romeo montague crashing a party in his house as not a big deal that very night (tybalt tells capulet about romeo's presence, and capulet tells tybalt to take no note of it). montague's first lines on first appearance are "let me at him!!!" but then once the crowd has dispersed, he has to ask benvolio what happened and who even started it; he was starting a fight for no reason, and he knows that. but the young men in the play have grown up in the shadow of this nebulous hatred; they take it seriously, because they don't know any better, because they don't have the life experience and context to understand that they shouldn't. they take their cues from the leaders of their society—men who, instead of controlling their anger, blow up at random things and then call it honor. in act 1 scene 1, the first time tybalt picks a fight, he's saying dramatic shit like "turn thee, benvolio, look upon thy death"; more grandstanding than combat. he brandishes his sword because it's what his uncle capulet does, so it's the honorable thing to do, so he tries to do it again at the party that night and is so confused when his uncle berates him and calls him a "saucy boy". he's belittled and dismissed, and he doesn't understand why, so in act 3 scene 1, desperate to prove himself, he's now talking completely differently. he ignores benvolio who he had claimed to hate, does not rise to mercutio's taunts and even says "peace be with you"; he states his challenge to romeo plainly, uses formal language and frames it as defending the honor of his house, and does not even draw his sword until mercutio did it first.

romeo is repeatedly described as sensitive and well-mannered by other characters; he tries to keep his cool, keep the peace, he resists tybalt's challenge. but then tragedy strikes; his love is no match for the expectations of hatred and violence that surround them. o sweet juliet, thy beauty hath made me effeminate, he says, and kills tybalt, because that is what masculine honor demands. he's devastated, grieving, angry for how unfairly tybalt had targeted him, horrified at what he's done, terrified of what this means for his future and the life he had wanted with juliet, and he doesn't know how to process any of this except as hatred, for others and for himself; he spends the rest of the story desperate to die, threatening to kill himself when his execution is converted to banishment, because violence, as always, is the only honorable path open to him. his love for juliet was the only thing that stopped him, and then again his love isn't enough, because juliet is dead. in the last scene of the play, in a graveyard, paris calls romeo a villain and challenges him, exactly the way tybalt did, and romeo sees him for what he is: just another boy playing at being a man, in a neverending cycle. do not urge me to fury, he says. i'm a man, i've killed before, and i cannot control what i will do.

that's what the play is about. if you raise your children in a hateful environment, they will destroy themselves. the future of the noble houses, even the prince's, is ruined, because this society is unsustainable, because the men (the boys) that it creates don't know how to function as adults; they don't know how to mediate and resolve conflicts and compromise, they don't know how to express emotion and assert their personhood except through violence, and even when there is no longer anyone around to inflict violence upon, they turn it upon themselves. when the carnage is discovered in the morning, both capulet and montague vow to personally make amends, because both of them know intimately that the tragic, wild, seemingly unpredictable actions of these children were their fault.

*mercutio is the only one for whom i can't recall any lines regarding age. his behavior and friendship with romeo seem to indicate that they are peers, but mercutio and benvolio also have the air of older guy friends (boyfriends?) who are dragging their depressed younger cousin with them on outings because romeo's mom asked them to cheer him up. relatedly, i think there is a viable interpretation (although i'm not married to it) that when mercutio is killed and curses both houses, it's because he's flabbergasted that his goading on of tybalt and romeo's fight led to real consequences. like "wtf, did you just kill me for real, i thought we were playing around"

It’s always so funny to me when people push the “Romeo was grooming Juliet” theory, especially when Paris is right there.

Romeo is around Juliet’s age and we can tell by his lines that Paris is way older and definitely an adult. Like. Look at R + J’s banter, it’s two total equals having fun with each other. They kiss and then Juliet asks for another kiss!! They match each other’s weird vibe!! Romeo says shit like “I wish I was your pet bird” and Juliet responds that she would literally crush it to death because she’d love it too much. Weirdos!!! They match each other’s freak!!!

Compare that with how Juliet interacts with Paris. He’s predatory and possessive over her, and it’s pretty obvious she’s uncomfortable. He pushes her dad to let him marry her even though he knows she’s too young!! Instead of playful banter we get Juliet being quiet and subdued, the complete opposite of her fiery, weird self she is with Romeo!!

“Oh, Juliet should’ve just married Romeo” No! If she did she would have ended up just like her mother, forced to marry an adult man and have a baby way too young, rendering her unable to connect with her child, and then the cycle would continue!

The theme of men preying on young girls and the patriarchy leading to destruction is there!! But Romeo is not the problem!!! He’s actually the opposite of the problem !!!!

[dilf-docs]

Hand To Heart (I'm Gonna Stay Faithful)

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: a pregnancy scare makes you realize just how deep you are in this.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pregnancy scare, fingering (WE GET IT U LIKE IT), bit of praise kink, humilliation kink, breeding kink (they're stupid and insane acc), dacryphilia, sex thru the looking glass (there's a mirror in reader's dorm), ANGST in capital, they're starting to catch the feels™ ur honor, hurt/comfort, plot thiccens, this people are clearly NOT in a good headspace btw idk we listen read and don't judge.

word count: 4,757 words

side note: everyone calling this joel nasty but thirsting after him too? was going to hold a trial over my citizens but yk... what the hell, sure! i too want nasty bfd!joel to ruin me: he can be my baby daddy who doesn't pay for child support of our 4 kids and we'd make way to bed for our 5th LET'S GO also spam time! but i also happen to write in wattpad, and got a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) it's on spanish tho, but if u speak the language and would like to tune in, u can read it here

part: prev | masterlist | next

It's a regular Tuesday when his phone rings at ten in the morning.

"Dad"

Joel gets up from his desk in a brash move, immediately picking up his daughter's worried tone. Tommy bursts inside, telling him to calm down, but all Joel can hear is the anxious beat in his chest.

"What's it, babygirl? You okay?" his throat tightens. "Talk to me"

There's silence before she answers, as if she's unsure to continue.

"It's not me" he feels his muscles relaxing, but then Sarah drops the bomb. "It's y/n"

Joel's heart beats with a different type of worry.

"What's wrong with her?" voice firm but emotionless.

It's almost summer again, and he's still seeing you. In a way, you had carved a space for yourself in his cold heart, so naturally, fear settles in. He'd never admit this things out loud, though.

"I don't know, dad" his daughter starts to rush the words out, panic evident on her voice. "She has locked herself in the bathroom and won't stop crying. I-I didn't know who else to call"

"Don't worry" but it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "M' comin'. S'anyone else in there?"

There's a pause on the line before she answers.

"No"

He thinks of you. He'd seen you cry before, of course, but it'd been over silly childish stuff, like getting sent to bed early or not getting what you wanted for Christmas.

He thinks of you. Images of your pretty face, etched in pain, make his stomach drop. It isn't fair: your face was one destined to be happy for eternity, your smile so contagious Joel would sometimes find himself surrendering to your juvenile joy, his crow feet a little more notorious since you entered his life and carved your space on it by force; a light in the dark.

He just couldn't bear to see a mirror of his dullness on your face. It wasn't right.

"Stay put. I'll be there"

He tries not to think about your eyes drained of life. He tries not to think he's the cause. And then, he hangs.

As soon as Joel enters your dorm, your perfume is up his nostrils, providing him with a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. It was comforting and familiar, words that used to be hollow now carrying a knowing feeling that stung right on his chest.

"Dad" Sarah calls out, going for a hug. Joel embraces his daughter tightly while caressing her hair. "I'm so glad that you're here. I didn't know what to do"

"Breath in, babygirl. S'alright" he looks at your door, closed. Broken sobs can be heard, and his wounded heart feels like a heavy burden on his chest.

"My class starts in ten" Sarah speaks against the fabric of his flannel, "but I just couldn't leave her like this"

His daughter has a good heart. At least one of them did, anyway.

"Go to your class" he's commanding before he can fully process what he said.

Sarah breaks the hug, looking at him with a look he can't quite place.

"What? But, dad-" she tries to protest, concerned for your wellbeing.

"I'll take care of it. Always do, haven't I?" he sees her hesitation, and afraid of where her doubts would take her, Joel adds a small joke in there. "Y'know those classes ain't free, kid. Go ahead"

"Okay" she gives up. "Just... tell me if anything happens, yes?"

"F'course. Trust me"

"I trust you"

He still remembers when Sarah's kindergarten teacher handed him that drawing: Joel was wearing a cape, and she said his little girl had told everyone in class his dad was a superhero because there was nothing he couldn't do. That same admiration and faith is there in her eyes, even as the small naive kid slips from his fingers and turns into the woman that stands before him. He's not the devil, but the worst father in the world, and that is pretty much the same to him.

When Sarah is out of your dorm, he's trapped inside the small room with your heavy crying on the other side of the door. He looks at the small place, thinking about all the times he's sneaked inside during the night, hiding like a criminal as you wait for him behind the door full of scrapped stickers, ready to capture his lips with an eagerness that gnaws his chest.

Now it's just him and your sobs, his terrified reflection displayed in the mirror in front of your bed, mockingly staring back.

What are you doing? it questions, and Joel, always ready to answer, has suddenly lost the ability to speak.

Forcing himself out of such a pitiful state, he approaches the door, knocking softly.

"Sarah" your hoarse voice speaks up, and just then, he realizes how much he loves hearing your voice, no matter how it sounds. "Don't you have classes to go to? Leave me, please. I promise I'm good, I-"

Joel hears your distress, so he interrupts what looks like the start of a nervous rambling wreck. Huh, doesn't he know you so well?

"Sarah's gone" a beat, "It's me, Joel"

As if you wouldn't recognize that deep voice even if you were deaf.

There's silence before the door flings open, surprising Joel, who takes a step back, barely noticeable to the rest, but obvious to you, who has spent hours admiring him and all his small movements, he who you could draw by memory and built in your head as real as he who was standing before you, his eyes circling with a whirlwind of emotions you can't quite place, yet make your heart race.

Joel takes in the sight of you, deciding it's unfair how good you look, despite your disheveled hair, run mascara and red-rimmed eyes: you are still the prettiest sight he's ever seen, and now he doesn't know what scares him the most.

"You're wearing my shirt" he says out loud his latest discovery. It's all he manages to say: not an are you okay? nor an what's wrong?

No, Joel just happens to be very stupid(ly in love).

"Sarah didn't see me" you hug the fabric that makes your frame look smaller, or maybe it's your tired composture that makes it seem that way, avoiding Joel from enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. "If that's what you wanted to know. Been inside there for hours, already was when she came by"

The fact that you rather explain and assure him of his supposed possible worries instead of sharing your own, makes his stomach tie on a knot. Were you too kind or perhaps selfless? Maybe just stupid(ly in love).

Joel grunts, and you're not sure if it's his way of dissmissing your comment (maybe he thinks you're lying), chastising you in a shallow manner or the fact that you're poorly trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Maybe he thinks you're still a foolish careless child who can't comprehend the weight of whatever it is you're doing by being with your bestfriend's dad behind everyone's back.

"Tell me" he gets closer to you, fingers on your cheeks, but they don't dig the skin, instead, his roughness hiding a surprising tenderness to them. "What happened, y/n?"

The rawness in his voice takes you by surprise. Joel Miller, who seemed a man impossible to waver, now stood before you, wrapped in a gloom that left you at loss for words, something akin to hope planting it's seed on your heart.

"Tell me" he demands, yet his pupils move as unsteady as your heart. There's no power for command in his voice, only what you could allude to helplessness.

Was it because you were putting up walls like he did?

Was it because the consequences of being with you are starting to dawn upon him?

Whatever it is, you don't like it.

"What's wrong?" he's pushing for an answer softly, such a contrasting image to that of him in bed. "Please, talk to me"

Please.

The words slip past his trembling lips, defenses crumbling.

Joel Miller hasn't pleaded since Sarah's mother packed her bags and walked out of their shared home. He promised himself he would never be vulnerable again, never at the feet of a loved one, beggin to be seen.

To be heard. To not be hurt. To be loved.

But here you were, red eyes blown wide at a confession spoken through other words.

Please.

Your chest feels heavy, breath constricted.

"Joel..." you utter his name like a prayer. As something to believe in; something to hold.

He rushes to your side, strong arms caging around you as your labored cries fill the tiny room.

"S'alright" he whispers against your ear, burying his face on your shaking shoulder. "M' right'ere, doll"

Your hold turns more desperate, practically clinging as if your life depended on it.

"Take your time, y/n" your name so soft, you feel like crying more. "I ain't goin' anywhere"

"Promise me" you whimper, holding tightly.

"I won't go" he assures. There it is, the same unwavering strength you know. It's for you, he thinks.

"Joel" you call out again, tone terrified. "I think I'm pregnant"

It takes him at least a minute to speak. Even to breathe.

"...What?"

He feels your erratic pulse against his chest.

"Joel. Look at me"

He doesn't feel your heartbeat anymore. Just then he realizes he's backed down, embrace letting go of yours. Joel takes in your eyes, shimmering with new tears and fears.

"Joel?"

"I'm here" his voice sounds like it belongs to someone else, and the reminder like it's for himself.

"I know" your small voice speaks up, "but, just- please, look at me"

Joel holds your gaze, and it's like your air supply as been cut.

We don't want this.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks cautiously, as if you were a small animal he's afraid to scare.

"No" you breath in. "I bought the test, but I couldn't take it... I was, for the very first time in my life, scared. But there's always a first, isn't it? That's when Sarah found me"

There's always a first. You weren't afraid when he pounced you next to his sleeping daughter, neither when you didn't stop coming and he let you in everytime, and absolutely not when he obscenely ate you out while Sarah was on the phone. No, you were brave―brave enough to stand defiant when his conflicting gaze pierced through you, daring you to be the first to leave this mess and forget about him. But you were brave because you stayed, despite it all.

That had to mean something, right?

"You said you wouldn't leave me" it comes out in a shaky breath; a threat. Your voice seethes with a quiet rage. "You promised, Joel"

Like the word promise was a dagger twisting on his insides, not a sacred oath.

So he forces himself to be that hero Sarah still thinks he is. After all, he promised her he's going to solve this, didn't he?

"I did" he runs a hand through his hair. "Got the test with you?" You slowly nod. "Take it, then. I'll wait here"

You don't move from your spot, chest still moving uneven under your labored breaths.

"When you come out, I'll promise I'll still be here"

He can't promise you more. The world? It's what you deserve but not what he can give; Joel can only give so much.

"Okay" your tone is clipped, and that's all you say before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

The room feels smaller than it is, the small plastic stick feeling heavier in your fingers than it actually is. You hear the clock's tick, Joel's frantic pace and your own irrational beat. It feels like a bomb: ready to explode and destroy everything within it's range.

Time drags like a cigarette, walls closing over your shaking pale frame. Your phone has a timer going on, yet for some reason, it feels an end to your beginning. You hug your body, wishing it was Joel's arms doing so.

But you saw it: fear, hesitation. It was on his eyes, auburn cracking like wood under fire. He was weak, and so were you. All of this... it starts to loose it's meaning. What started as a summer fling now falls upon you like a second skin you can't quite wash off, and it's suffocating as much as the enclosed space where a stupid line could change the rest of your life forever.

Joel outside isn't doing much better. He's aware his walking probably set you on edge, so now he's sat at the small bed that dips under his weight. He takes one deep breath, two―then looses count.

How could he be so careless? For a brief moment, why did he let himself believe it could be?

For God's sake: you were his daughter's friend. He had seen you and Sarah play on his house, laughing on his porch, gossiping on her bedroom. Growing up.

He wanted you, a desire so consuming it sometimes kept him up at night, thoughts confusing with something else. Probably fear, probably acceptance.

Joel is aware you changed his life. You, with your wild spirit and obnoxious laugh. You whom he couldn't tear his gaze away when standing in the same room, a magnetic force making the world around you drawn to you and that dangerous allure you had that made it impossible to resist you. To forget you. To live without you.

He feels dirty. A monster. A wolf with an insatiable hunger, sinking his canine teeth on your soft flesh. He'd drink your blood, to always keep a part of you with him; to be one. Like a lamb sent to the slaughter: but you wanted it. You had placed your head inside his jaw; trusting. As if knowing he could devour you, yet he'd never hurt you. Daring, almost.

Show me you can love me. Take a bite. Take me as yours. Mark me. Ruin me for anyone else. My blood, it belongs to you. This isn't a sacrifice―this is love.

When you exit the bathroom, hand holding the pregnancy test, it's all clear to him.

For a moment even, Joel forgets there's a world outside and sees a small baby: they have your smile, your eyes―and nothing of him, because you're the sun of his moon, the light of his darkness, and that baby is a mirror of you and your beauty. You and your warmth, devoid of his cold and far from where his filth can taint it. They have to look like you, because you are the most beautiful person in the world, and suddenly, the idea one more of you is possible, makes it feel like just you isn't enough.

"It's negative"

For the second time in the day, Joel is rendered speechless. His gaze is trained on the floor, lost in thought. Besides his lack of an answer, whatever he's thinking makes you nervous.

"Joel, are you okay?" you call out.

He swallows the lump on his throat, pose awkward before he moves next to your bed.

"M' fine, baby. C'mere" he sits over it again, motioning with his hand the empty spot next to him. Joel's embrace is warm, like it shields you from the cold harsh truth.

"Are you upset?" you ask over the comfortable silence, the underlying tension stretching like a rubber band.

"No" his answer comes quick, "but I won't lie to ya', doll. Thought for a sec and ol' man like me could give a pretty girl like yourself a baby as beautiful as their mamma"

A treacherous pink dusts your cheeks. Had you lost all your common sense? Seconds ago, your life hung by a fragile thread, and now all your body can think is to go for the same risk again. Fuck it.

"Did you? I thought you were too busy freaking out"

Joel lets out a nervous laugh. "M' a busy man, doll. Learned how to do two things at once"

A fire settles in your stomach when his touch lingers over your soft flat belly, longing.

"Hmm, I see" your fingers move from his hold to his collarbone, as they play with the buttons he hasn't wore.

"Y/n" he warns. You stop for a moment, not because you're unsure, but because when you look up, his eyes don't shine with that glint of danger and hunger that gives you the thrills. Instead, they look at you with a fondness he doesn't seem to even realize―the one that gives you the hope of it all.

"I want this" you speak up, voice confident.

"I don't think that's a good idea, doll. What'ya need is-"

"You" your face gets close to his, cutting his words and breath. Joel's adam's apple bobs, your throbbing pussy going through a Pavlovian response, such action an indicator he's surrendered to you, mouth watering at just the thought. "You said you could do two things at the same time, right? The comfort me in the only way you know"

There's hesitation on his eyes, and while you think it's because he's still hung up on the idea this isn't what you need, Joel's mind is stuck in the fact you think he can only warm your bed but not your heart. It's stupid, indeed. It can't affect him that much. Ashamed, he cuts the space hanging between your lips and traps them in a heated kiss.

"Hmh, Joel" your voice barely audible as Joel's fingers grip on your hair, his sleazy tongue sliding it's way into your mouth until you can feel it in your teeth. "Please..."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Please, what?"

"Please" you whimper, feeling your back heat with droplets of sweat under Joel's shirt, the sticky feeling akin to that starting to pool in between your thighs. "Please, make me feel good"

Joel smiles adoringly, moving your body until your legs are up his shoulders. Sure, his knees covered by his dirty worn-out jeans are ruining your fresh laundry, and his joints may crack here and there, but you don't pay mind to this little things: all you care is how he's kissing your bare thighs, his salt and pepper stubble tickling skin that feels more sensitive than ever; burning almost.

"Gon' touch 'tis pretty pussy 'til you forget y'r name, doll" he breathes out. "Will ya' let me?"

You nod eagerly as he helps you get out of your panties, throwing them somewhere around the room. You smack his arm playfully at his rough manners, but then he's pressing his lips with wet ticklish kisses on your legs and laughter bubbles at the tingles it's causing.

"S-stop, Joel!" you beg, legs shaking. Your giggles are contagious, and soon the foreign feeling lifts the corners of his scowl into a smile, a concept becoming more familiar with time.

"I ain't stopping" his fingers then graze your clit, tauntingly. You whine, as Joel doesn't let up on your clit, his calloused digits coated in your arousal. "'Tis what you asked for, baby. So 'm gonna make you feel good. So good until you can't speak nothin' that ain't my name"

The threat feels like a delicious promise, so you tell him you'll behave.

"I wanna try somethin', doll. Wait" you whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, and then he's moving your body until he's against the wall and you're on the border of the bed. With your eyes, you follow his line of view. "So needy, ain't ya'? Cockhungry slut. Jus' scared the shit out of me and now you want me inside?" he tsks. "Sick fella"

"Joel..." you breath out, desire pooling into your orbs.

"Wanna see you, doll" you see your reflection in the mirror as Joel lowers his head to whisper on your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. "Want you to see yourself, too. How you'll be beggin' for me"

His middle and ring finger dip between your folds as he continues the minstrations, fingers pumping in and out as they graze your moist cunt. They start to go in circles, and even if it's not exactly next to your bed, you can see the mirror begin to fog, whines condensed in the heavy air.

His shirt clings uncomfortably to your body, but you don't care. In a way, he feels even closer to you, as if he was an extension of yourself.

Joel's body radiates heat on it's own, making the room's temperature skyrocket.

You lean your head back onto the mattress, moaning.

"Need ya' to use that pretty mouth of y'rs, doll. Say it" his fingers linger on the dip of your hips, waiting for an answer with a smirk and daring manner. "Say what ya' want; that's if you can"

It takes you a while to speak up, the slippery sound of Joel's coated fingers the only sound to be heard on your dorm.

"I... I need" you whine through labored pants, "I need you, Joel"

I need you, Joel. It's in the heat of the moment, really, yet on that very instant, he makes a silent vow that hangs unspoken in the air.

"Good girl" he bites your earlobe, making a chill run down your spine.

His fingers fuck into you just how you like it: swirling to explore your inner tight walls.

"Fuck. Love how your pussy takes me, doll. 'S mine, isn't it? Say it, say who this pussy belongs to. Who's the only man allowed to have it"

You close your eyes, but the answer comes clear. "You, Joel. Just you"

You whine, feeling him go harder in a new-found confidence. Your nails dig on his biceps, but he doesn't flich, still busy burying his fingers inside your clit as his mouth continues spilling filthy shit you barely can comprehend, mind starting to go numb.

Normally, Joel would make you cum on his fingers, always making sure to lick it after, claiming it was bad manners to leave to waste. But today, the clock ticking in your wall, he knows he must hurry.

"Eager, eh?" you taunt back, seeing how quickly he's pulling down his underwear, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Your dripping cunt welcomes his cock, tip teasing your entrance.

"Don't" he seethes.

"Don't?" you laugh. "Don't what, laugh?"

His fingers grab your jaw tightly, forcing you to look behind you.

"Don't stop lookin', doll"

Joel slips the tip of his cock into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady you. He looks at you through the mirror, seeing your dazed eyes, waiting as you bite your lip.

"That's it, good girl" he praises, purring against your ear. You see his face go down and lick the side of your neck before sinking his teeth in it. "Gonna reward you for'at"

Your mouth falls agape when he fully pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself to the limit in the first thrust. You moan, stretch wet pussy trying to adjust to his girth. He groans, his hips moving back and forth with yours, to meet his thrusts.

"R-right there" you whimper, feeling eyes starting to water. It had been a long day, and with his cock buried deep inside you, you can't think of anything else: just him―like this, for the rest of your life; you don't need more. "Fuck, don't stop"

His thumb rubs across your cheekbone, capturing a tear that had slipped past your foggy mind in a brittle moment of vulnerability, brown eyes flickering with something else. It could be.

We could be.

"Fuck, you cryin' over this cock, doll? What'a fuckin' slut" he laughs incredulously, but there's a hidden fondness to it. "S' that how good 'm makin' you feel?"

You can only moan, his dick harder now, his infatuation with your fucked-out state evident in the way his movements become more hectic.

"Can't even speak? What'a dirty minx inside 'tis sexy little body"

"Mhm" you blabber, tears running hot down your cheeks, landing on the mattress in fat droplets, noticeable through the reflection even. Joel stares back at your puffy eyes, devotion pouring at your glossy gaze, coated in a faint red tint, more pronounced from your earlier cries. Fuck. Never did he think your lambent eyes and sniffle sounds could turn him on this much. Something about him being the cause of it has his head spinning.

"New rule" he growls, "you keep those pretty red eyes lookin' at me when you cum"

You whimper at his words, the powerful aura they carry pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. You feel your tight folds clenching around his cock, hands holding to his back while your nails dig in it. You feel yourself approaching your release, multiple tears escaping down your cheekbone. In an obscene gesture, it isn't his thumb but his tongue what removes the wet stream from your body, feeling the salty drops on his tastebuds.

You were already so worked up, it was a matter of seconds before you could cum at any moment. Your walls clench around his length, and before you can process, Joel pulls your body up, caging your tits until they're pressed against his soft chest. You face the white paint of your wall, and Joel can see your back in the mirror as he's still buried inside of you. You gasp at the change in position, all of the sudden, a painfull delicious sensation flooding your senses.

"You're gonna cum, aren't ya', doll?" Joel's asking, hot breath nestled in your neck.

"Hmh" you barely manage to blurt as he fucks into you harder, your arms clutching onto him. You were being so loud now that you were sure you'd get at least one noise complain, hoping it stays there; if they found out not only had you been fucking, but with a fourty year old man who happpened to be the father of your bestfriend, you'd probably get expelled. "So close..."

"You know?" he whispers, voice fragile over the sound of your pants and worked up breaths. "I was scared, ealier. M' sorry you had to see that" your body trembles, making you close your eyes. "But I need ya' to know, for'a moment, I did think about having a kid with you"

Your forehead drips with sweat, mixing with the sodium of your tears.

"Maybe in 'nother life, huh?"

Your heart feels like it's about to burst when he sloppily kisses you, as to prevent any words come out of your mouth―humilliating or full of regret, avoiding the heart ache of a rejection. Joel, for a moment, lets his heart wander off to territories he shouldn't, thinking of things he should leave to be. Joel digs his hole deeper, but he doesn't care: he just wants to be the best grave in your cementery.

"Maybe" you answer, but it sounds like a possibility, the promise of a foolish mind betraying the guarded hidden hope.

"Fuck, Joel" you bury your face against his soft pecs, your orgasm crashing over you. Your whine comes our rather loud, trying to drown the sound against his body. He doesn't stop holding you on his arms, firm; you'd probably fallen if he didn't.

"Wait for me, doll. 'M close"

"Please" you plead, kissing his jaw. "Need you. Want to feel you, Joel"

Not daddy, but his name. I want you. I need you. Want to feel you; for you to fill me. He groans, rhythm sloppy as he crashes his lips into yours. he should stop, especially after today's events, but God, his traitorous head is filled with images of you, belly round with his child, one carved to be the spitting image of you.

Do it.

You moan inside his mouth when you feel him finish inside of you, thick, your fingers running through his dark greying hair damp with sweat.

"M' right here" he says his words from earlier, and you feel yourself hugging him to keep his body next to yours even as he pulls out.

"I know" you hum, arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming"

"What of both?"

You let out a laugh.

"Jesus, Joel" but your tone is devoid of malice, adquiring that layer to it, just like his own. There's a shift in the air, and if you felt it before, now you know there's no point of return. "You sure are something else"

dts: @ann-gell; angél de mi corazón, tkm mucho, gracias por llegar a mi vida, ah.

[why4anne]

Juno

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Pop star Y/N L/N cannot behave herself on social media. But who can blame her when her boyfriend looks like that?

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter

Masterlist

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, taylorswift and others

yourusername: Just a little something I wrote recently🤭

Juno out tonight 8pm EST

view comments:

user1: Girlie is finally releasing music again?? Album when???

user2: Pop is back!

user3: you'll find me SCREAMING

user4: Juno?? Like the goddess of love and marriage..?

- user5: Wait! You're onto something!!!!

- user6: y'all what if she means the movie

- user7: what movie?

- user6: Dang, you're making me feel old

taylorswift: They're not ready for it

- user8: TAYLOR????? HELLOOOO??

- user9: REP TV REFERENCE!!!

- user10: easter egg??!!!

- user 11: girl that's a whole easter basket

joeyb_9: nice dress

- user12: excuse me? sir?

- user13: I just know they're up to something

lahjay10_: Joe has not stopped smiling all morning practice

- user14: It's about him then???

- user15: He's giggling and kicking his feet I just know it

user16: Joe can you fight??

- joeyb_9: yes I can

- user16: oop- I was not expecting that

- user17: he gagged you fr

user18: I don't know if I wanna be her, or be with her

- user19: the struggle is real

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, zendaya and others

yourusername: oops... wrong pic🤭 Juno out now btw

view comments:

user1: you're this thirsty on main????!!!!

user2: girl calm down

user3: NOW THATS WHAT I CALL AN OVULATION SONG

user4: I'm actually speechless after listening to this...

- user5: No becuase WHAT DO YOU MEAN MARK YOUR TERRITORY???!!

user5: hold me and explore me??? GIRL!

user6: SOMEONE NEEDS TO CONTROL MY GIRL Y/N

- user7: we need to spay her frfr

user8: tf you mean freaky positions???

user9: I mean, have you seen her man??? I don't blame her

- user10: The only pop-girlie with a hot boyfriend I fear

- user11: Louis Partridge exists yk

user12: I was gonna say you swan🦢 he frog🐸 but I fear can't

user13: how are you able to look your parents in the eyes after this girl???

user14: She and Joe be freaky like that ig

joeyb_9: I feel honored

- user15: YOU GUYS ARE INSANE!!

- user16: did not expect this when I woke up this morning

- user17: Joe, are you well???

user18: I always knew they were freaky

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, milliebobbybrown and others

yourusername: One of me is cute, but two though?

Surprise! Double whammy you guys 34+35 out now!

view comments:

user1: SHE'S INSANE!

user2: nah what do you mean 34+35??? you freakyyyyy!!!

user3: tf you mean "got the neighbors yelling earthquake"????

user4: What kind of freak-juice do they put in the water in Cincinnati?

user5: Let me breath, damn. I haven't even recovered from Juno yet

joeyb_9: I can make sure that there is two of you by this time next year

- yourusername: I just might let you🤭

- lahjay10_: BRING BACK SHAME!!!!

- jjettas2: NORMALIZE BULLYING!!!

- user6: Ja'marr?? Justin?? hello???

- user7: I stand with Justin and Ja'marr because writing this on main is CRAZY

- user8: WE NEED TO PUT BOTH JOE AND Y/N IN HORNY JAIL!

user9: That's enough screen time for you missy

user10: THESE LYRICS ARE CRAZYYYY

- user11: They're not even trying to be subtle

user12: Didn't Joe say in one interview that he goes to bed by like 8pm. Tf you mean "we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"??

- user13: One of them is lying and I think it's the blonde one

- user14: both of them are blonde

- user13: @/youmissedthejoke

user15: yall are acting like this is sum crazy shit but if I had a boyfriend who looked like that I would be acting WAYYYY worse

- user16: FR! Like if I looked like Y/N and my bf looked like Joe, you would not be catching us leaving the house

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, alix_earle and others

yourusername: Have you ever tried this one?

view comments:

user1: Ma'am there are kids on this app

joeyb_9: yeah we did it last night, remember?

- yourusername: no, can you remind me😇

- lahjay10_: EW EW EW EW EW

- lahjay10_: THAT'S ENOUGH!

- lahjay10_: I NEED BLEACH FOR MY EYES

- lahjay10_: I'M TELLING MANAGEMENT!!

- lahjay10_: THIS IS AN HR ISSUE

- user2: is Ja'marr okay?

- user3: He's crashing out

- user4: bro is tweaking

user5: we can try it out if you want to🤭

- joeyb_9: She's busy

- user6: we need lock him up or something

- yourusername: would handcuffs suffice?

- user7: EXCUSE ME!!???

- user8: Girl this is a public comment section!

- user9: Saying that on Beyonce's internet is CRAZY

user10: looked at myself and sighed

user11: girl, who is in charge of your social media??

user12: we need to lobotomize her or something

lahjay10_:

liked by teehiggins, andreiiosivas and others

lahjay10_: The trenches look a little different when you in the inside of the Spectre.

view comments:

user1: #unblocky/n

user2: #unblocky/n

user3: #unblocky/n

user4: #unblocky/n

joeyb_9: #unblocky/n

- user5: help- not Joe joining us

- user6: y/n is this you?

- joeyb_9: Nope, this is actually Joe

- user7: I can't with this man😭

lahjay10_: aight what the hell is going on?

- user8: #unblocky/n

- user9: #unblocky/n

yourusername: I'VE BEEN UNBLOCKED!!🥳

- user10: welcome back queen

- lahjay10_: hope you happy now

- yourusername: the happiest😁

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, andreiiosivas and others

yourusername: AAAAAAAHHHH! JOE BURROW PLEASE PUSH ME UP A WALL AND THROW ME ACROSS THE ROOM! I wanna climb this man like a tree. I wanna gnaw on his biceps like a beaver and I wanna scratch his back like a goddamn feral cat!

view comments:

user1: is she okay?

user2: I can just tell that she's ovulating

user3: well you can actually do that if you want to #wearenotthesame

user4: on main is CRAZY

user5: I didn't realize this was Y/N's account, deadass thought it was a horny fan-account💀

joeyb_9: That can be arranged

- user6: He's so nonchalant with it😭

- user7: I know I should be used to this by now but at the same time his comments never fails to flabbergast me

- user8: Remember when we used to have shame?

- jjettas2: pause.

user9: Yall are calling her crazy but she's so real for this

user10: I can't with this girl💀

andreiiosivas: are you okay?

- user11: Help not Andrei lowkey being concerned😭

- user12: She just ovulating, don't worry

[This post has been deleted]

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_ and others

yourusername: Juno is now number one on the Billboard hot 100! Thank you so much to everyone who streamed🩵

view comments:

user1: this caption does not sound like my girl Y/N

user2: where is crazy Y/N?

user3: did you get your social media hacked or sum?

user4: I think her team took her social media away😭

- user5: yeah cuz her last (extremely unhinged) post was deleted too

- user6: Noooooo! I lived for Y/N's posts

- user7: me too girl😔

user8: I'll miss you diva💜

user9: #wewanty/n

- user10: #wewanty/n

- user11: #wewanty/n

- user12: #wewanty/n

user13: congratulations, but please give my girl back her account

user14: The biggest sign that this isn't Y/N is that Joe didn't comment

- user15: fr! he always comments on her posts

- user16: he's silent protesting💀

lahjay10_: I can finally scroll on instagram without getting a jumpscare🙏 I used to pray for times like this!

- user17: Ja'Marr😭

- user18: Bro rejoicing💀

joeyb_9:

liked by lahjay10_, sam_hubbard_ and others

joeyb_9: Since someone got her social media privileges taken away, I had to be the one to post this photo of her because she said: "I look cute in this photo, the world deserves to witness it"

view comments:

user1: get yourself a man who posts you on his instagram when you can't!

user2: she was right, I had to witness this🙂‍↕️

user3: mother is mothering!!!

lahjay10_: you down bad bro

- joeyb_9: and?

- user4: THAT'S A MAN!

- user5: I swear my pants were JUST on

jjettas2: what happened to the social media break?

- joeyb_9: boyfriend duties called

- user6: When he breaks his social media break for you>>

user7: Thank you for blessing us like this🙏

user8: I am straight, I am straight, I am straight

user9: Joe is so lucky😔

- user10: He gets to wake up to this everyday😫

- joeyb_9: It's a pretty sweet sight ngl

- user 11: STOP😭

- user12: bro be reading all the comments

- joeyb_9: gotta make sure only nice things are said

- user13: stop that's so cute🥹

One year later:

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, jjettas2 and others

yourusername: I let him make me Juno

view comments:

joeyb_9: Prettiest mommy in the whole world ❤️

user1: OMG I AM TOTALLY NOT FREAKING OUT!

user2: mother is a real mother???

user3: Those unhinged posts actually led to this???

user4: CONGRATS!!!!

jjettas2: Congratulations you two! So happy for you!

teehiggins: QB loading...

lahjay10_: Blessed to be baby Burrow's uncle🙏

sam_hubbard_: Congratulations!❤️

andraiiosivas: The best parents!

user5: when mama y papa actually become mama y papa🥲

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii! Could you write a one shot with both Caracalla and Geta? The idea is that the reader is their favorite concubine (or legit their wife idk if that's how it works lmfaooo) but she's a witch? Like she's an oracle or something, they keep her around because she brings them luck and what not (they also kinda love her but they're both insane so...)

No worries if you don't want to write this!

The oracle of the emperors

Geta/Caracalla x witch!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, power inequality, kissing, mention of smut (light smutish), family issues

Summary : In times of war, one had to resort to everything, be it rationing, ambushes, burning or fetching the walking omniscient shadow from the alleys of Rome. An oracle surrounded the two emperors and was so much more to them than just a surrogate for the gods.

info : I love the idea, almost an au in Gladiator (maybe more someday) thanks for the request and have fun reading :)

masterlist

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

Rome was a world city, an empire for decades no for centuries, it would outlast all time. Everything would fall to make way for the glorious holy roman empire and no one would stop it, no country, no army, you just had to keep conquering and conquering.

An idea, a thought, a dream that had burned itself into the minds of the two emperors - they wanted more, had to and needed more. The reign of Geta and Caracalla was to be glorious, but the body cannot bear what the mind dreams of, especially not when its own warlord threatens to withdraw.

You can't keep a man from dying for a lifetime without risking his downfall, a fact that the two also saw...but if the fighting force failed, what could be done to win more easily and quickly?

Gods, oracles and witches, the supernatural, that which could see more than only man could see.

Since the conquests, the oracles had only predicted victories, but why did more and more bases go under, why did the harvests come to an end and why did the emperor's gold seem to dwindle?

Wrong answers were punished with death and the temples remained mostly empty, the only thing that was known to help was the shadow of Rome, the woman who was found before she was even looked for.

Her figure emerged from the streets wrapped in the dark fabric, the rustling of the small bones in her pouch accompanying her as the people looked at her in awe, as much as she was feared she was revered, ,,The sound of water will bring you a poet, just as these bones of death brought me to you...my honorable emperors” she greeted them as she came up the stairs to the palace and saw the golden gods in human form.

Of one she had dreamed his gold would cover the Senate like blood that would not stop flowing and the other she had seen an agonizing spirit that would perish along with all of Rome.

,,You will be placed in our service, no harm shall come to you as long as your words are of use to us,” Geta assured her as he showed her a bedchamber larger than anything she had ever had and still needed some work, for as much as she saw and heard them all, she knew how to interpret the looks in their eyes.

And the looks of the brothers were full of desire.

After a very short time she was surrounded only by the two of them, hardly any other servants or concubines, the campaign was victorious as she had predicted, but her warning also came true.

It only took a full moon for the “poet” to arrive inside the palace and she saw the amused look on Caracalla's face as he grabbed her hand, ,,You predicted it!” he said, and his brother looked at her, a look she took as respect.

When they were with the brothers during the day, she was with Geta, his hand at her side, the human god who wanted to be closer to Olympus through her, ,,You belong to me, here, in the Senate and out there,” he reminded her whenever they took up political matters.

Dark eyes with make-up looked at her whenever she moved the figures on the map, whenever she whispered her proposal to him in the senate and when he drew her to his bedchamber.

Why should she say no? Even a fool would have slept with the most powerful man whose voice was almost as intoxicating as his body, his kiss intense he wanted this power she had, his gold soon adorning her too, gifts in the hope that she would stay with him, touches of lust, he desired her power and beauty until the day she asked the question.

The fire turned bluish and she heard the cry of a monkey asking him, ,,You speak of belonging but this mine, is it none of your brother the Emperor Caracalla's concern?" a question that drove him from her, his face became incredulous and she saw the disbelief in his eyes.

He felt betrayed.

A betrayal she thought he would spear away, but her last prediction that this mine would mean his end must have frightened him, frightened and almost more God-given.

The gifts of gem and gold he made sure she wore, as much as he tried to hold it back she belonged to one god and not two at the same time.

Geta would spend hours in the temples, making people feel at ease and being addressed as a god. it was during these days and weeks that the monkey Dundus would often run up to her and she would see the uncertain look on Caracalla's face.

As much as he was fascinated, he was also afraid of her, ,,Witches are a bad omen...but you helped us,” the younger one said as he ventured into her room and watched, curious about what she was doing there.

Instead of luring him with physical devotion like his brother, she put a motherly smile on her lips, ,,Look even I can make fruit dance” she lured him and he sat down on her chair while she instructed him to close his eyes, she mixed a few simple tinctures and dripped them on the grapes.

A simple reaction of plants, but for Caracalla, who clapped his hands in delight, it was worth almost as much as the whole of Rome, ,,You see, I can't be angry at all, my sweet king,” she murmured to him and hugged him carefully, an embrace he wanted more and more from then on. during the day she belonged to Geta, who soon ignored her warning.

Why listen to a witch when he was a god? The jewelry covered her body, his love visible on her body and at night she took care of the younger one, so much pain and suffering as she held him like a child who would soon take advantage of her when his madness took over, ,,His gold, his jewelry but you're mine, aren't you? I need you alone, not shared,” he ordered, fingers clutching hers helplessly.

A question she answered with a kiss and the game between the two emperors continued to grow daily. The bones in her bowl became more and more when she made new predictions and she went from a god to a delusional one whenever one of them needed her.

Gold and make-up adorned her body and whenever Geta and Caracalla met it seemed as if Rome was on the verge of collapse.

In the midst of this they stood, the most influential authority taking on the two emperors while Rome changed around them, brothers not seeing that the shadow had closed in around them when the first thought had fallen upon them.

She felt at home in the madness of the two and the threads that held everything together, because no one could separate such a love. Yet to everyone else outside the palace she was nothing more than the concubine of the brothers Emperor Geta and Caracalla.

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