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alltheirdamn · 5 days

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?”

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him.

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown.

Fuck.

You wanted the day to be over.

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right?

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation.

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart.

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak.

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return.

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do.

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness.

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked.

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye.

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out.

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault.

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day.

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school.

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee.

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows.

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied.

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow.

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now.

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words.

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?”

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected.

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished.

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee.

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly.

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.”

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft.

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly.

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine.

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash.

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you.

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes.

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away.

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist.

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body.

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck.

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar.

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs.

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.”

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine.

“Joel,” you whined.

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours.

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear.

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear.

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved.

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.”

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing.

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless.

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing.

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair.

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek.

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you.

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly.

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him.

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand.

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together.

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered.

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you.

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch.

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased.

“I just don’t like them!” You defended.

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms.

“Your turn,” you sighed.

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned.

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face.

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected.

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften.

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest.

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you.

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered.

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you.

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks.

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed.

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled.

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier.

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence.

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room.

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously.

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it.

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it.

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand.

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head.

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking.

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x teacher #joel x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miler tlou #tlou #pre outbreak!joel #the last of us fanfiction #fluff and angst #so much angst

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dolcettamagica · 2 months

Text

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ch.1

tags: rick sanchez x reader, love triangle, rick being rick, rick being mean af as usual, age gap, it will get dark, angst, double ended - you decide it, some chps will be smut, slow burn, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour this chapter: rick sanchez x reader, rick being mean, sfw with some sexual indications word count: 1750

“Listen to me, you bi-bitch. I am not doing this for you, got-got it? I was challenged by someone, and I am not someone who loses and if you spoiled bitch call me an old man again, I’ll make you scream it, understand?”

„What-what the actual fuck is this?!“

The whole Smith family was staring at the most recent weird event in their living room. A girl lying on their floor, alone and unconscious. It was obvious that she wasn’t an alien – judging by her appearance. Summer was focused on her outfit, Beth was checking if she still had a pulse and Jerry was being Jerry (useless).

“Morty – Morty you disgusting little shit! Did you buy a girl from space? Fucking pervert. I’m going to kill you!”, Rick’s voice echoed through the room, spit dripping from his mouth. His grandson instantly denied the accusations vehemently, saying that he is a pervert but not that kind of pervert. Rick was angry, furious even, someone like him – the smartest man alive – didn’t have time for shit like this.

“Um…Dad?”, Beth was holding a piece of paper in her hand instead of her usual glass of red wine, “It’s for you.”

“Wow, Grandpa Rick, maybe you were the one buying some girl like some creep.”

Rick narrowed his eyes at Summer’s remark. As if he would ever need to buy a girl at all. “Shut the fuck up, Summer, before I tell your mum where you hide your sh-shit.” That was enough to shut the redhead up and earn a disapproving look from Beth.

Quickly Rick snatched the note from his daughter’s fingers. A note – something so traditional…weirdly interesting.

Hello Rick C-137, Probably asking yourself why some girl is lying on your floor and why you’re reading a note right now. I’m not going to tell you shit though. Aren’t you the “smartest man” alive? The “rickest Rick”? You’re nothing more than an experiment to me and a dumber version of me anyway. I won’t tell you why she is in your dimension and your universe. I won’t tell you what experiment and what you should or should not achieve. Fuck, I won’t even tell you who she is or where she originated from. I also made sure that you won’t be able to track where she came from and on top of that you will never know who I actually am. Wait until she wakes up or wake her up yourself. I know damn well I piqued your interest, C-137.

He was right. The note did pique his interest, but it also pissed him off. Obviously, it was another Rick – an arrogant motherfucker who challenged Rick. “For f-fuck’s sake. What fucking bullshit is this”, his pale hand dragged down his face before he knelt down, right next to the stranger’s face.

“Wake the fuck u-up, dumb bitch. How can-can you sleep with everyone screaming.”

Dumb Bitch…Those words echoed through your head, jerking you awake. Who was this disrespectful to call you that? You blinked several times, the light from the lamps blinding you.

“O my God, Dad! She’s waking up.”

“Oh geez…I don’t think this is goi-going to end good.”

“I hope she’s cool like a new sister or something, Morty is like so annoying.”

Who was talking? Slowly your eyes adjusted to the new surroundings, and you were met with some old man staring into your soul. His scent was a mixture of alcohol, musk and after-shave. Not a bad smell at all.

“What…Where am I and who the fuck are you, old man?!”, the first thing you did was check your body. Missing limbs? Naked? Bruises? Chained up? No, everything seemed fine yet at the same time nothing was fine.

Your head felt like it was exploding, as if a belt was strapped around it and getting tighter and tighter. The room was unfamiliar just like the people around you. Everyone was screaming. Strangers. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Did they drug me? Your mouth was dry, as if you haven’t drunk any water in days. Did they kidnap me? Thousands of thoughts flooded your brain, and no answer was in sight. The room shrank and shrank and shrank. Why is everyone yelling? Who are these people? Where am I? I can’t breathe! I can’t-

Rick injected a needle into your neck, pushing a milky liquid into your system. You were having a panic-attack, and he didn’t have the nerves to deal with anymore shit thrown his way. Almost instantly the girl in front of his feet stopped shaking, your breath calmed down as well as your excessive sweating. Meanwhile Rick took a long look at you – you weren’t dirty or anything, the opposite in fact. Your hair was clean and shining while your clothes were spotless and on top of that you smelled phenomenal. A rich vanilla with an undertone of cherry, sweet and sultry.

“Wh-What did you in-inject her with, Rick?”

“Relax, Morty”, Rick rolled his eyes, “Just didn’t – didn’t want her to lose her shit. Give her a minute, we’ll be able to talk to her then.” Only Rick and the grandkids were left with you now. Beth had to go to work and Jerry was simply overstimulated, not being able to comprehend anything that happened in front of his eyes.

You took a deep breath and sat up; your eyes never left the tall, skinny frame of the older man. “Who are you guys…?”, your voice was timid, but your stare was stern.

“Rick, Morty, Summer. Y-You’re at our house. Don’t ask us why, you were probably tele-teleported here from someone who looks like me. We don’t know shit about you either, dumbass. Do we look like some human-traffickers to you? Another fucking dumbass.”

Suddenly it clicked – Rick Sanchez. You’ve seen his face all over the news again and again. Some mad scientist who was known for teleportation, universes and interdimensional traveling. And he was a fucking asshole. Morty and Summer were his grandkids. At least I know who they are.

“Now, tell me who you are”, Rick reached out and cupped your chin with his calloused fingers. His fingertips felt rough against your soft skin, you felt warmth creep up to your cheeks and spread across your face. With a hiss you slapped his hand away.

“My name is y/n. I’m 21 years old and a psych major at college. I will also be known as the girl who castrated you if you touch me again, old man.”

The last part earned a chuckle from Morty and Summer “Oh, Grandpa Rick got burned! I love you already, girl!” Their joy was short-lived though. Rick yelled at both of them, insulting them every way possible, demanding them to leave the fucking room before he feeds them to his alien-prisoners. Both complied to his command.

“F-fucking listen to me you wannabe mean girl bi-bitch. Some other Rick left a note-note for me, talking about some dumb ass experiment. What happened before you ended up here? Do you even know where you live or you wanna share a bed with this o-old man?”

“I live in….huh…Where do I live? I remember who I am but not a single thing about a family or a living space”, no matter how hard you tried you didn’t actually remember anything about your own life, “The last I recall before waking up is someone saying, “Last Chance, Sweetheart” and that someone sounded exactly like you.”

“For fuck-fuck’s sake! I’m going crazy! I’m going to kill that motherfucking R-Rick!”

Two hours. Two hours passed and Rick tried everything to at least receive a single type of information, just anything. Nothing. Nothing worked. He tried to trace you back to your original universe – apparently you didn’t belong to any. He tried to find other versions of you – a big red error appeared. He couldn’t even extract past memories from your brain. Literally nothing has worked. He failed. Rick Sanchez, the smartest man on earth, failed.

“You know, maybe some memories will come back to me after some time. You don’t have to be yelling all the time…”, you were sitting on a chair, your elbows propped on his workbench and your hands cupping your face. Rick was in fact a weird guy – loud, rude but determined. After hours of listening to his drunken outbursts you just wanted some peace and quiet. Due to Rick kind of being famous on the internet you knew a thing or two about him and what his work was about. “I know you mean well and your actions could help me go back home…if I have a home, that is. You still need to chill though, old man.”

Once again you called Rick an old man. Is that girl serious? “You dumb little…”, you heard him growl as he turned around to face you. The burping, belching genius known was anything but amused. His typically wry grin twisted into a snarl of pure contempt, revealing a glint of madness in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

The furrows on his forehead deepened, accentuating the lines of his craggy face as he scowled, his brows knit together in a storm of frustration. His eyes, usually glazed with a combination of apathy and brilliance, now burned with a fiery intensity that could rival the brightest supernova in the universe.

“Listen to me, you bi-bitch. I am not doing this for you, got-got it? I was challenged by someone, and I am not someone who loses”, Rick made his way over to you. Slowly, like a predator nearing his prey. His hand gripped your chair to make you face him. You felt yourself push back into the seat. He was too close and you two were all alone in his garage. One hand was now next to your head while the other was gripping your thigh. You could feel his breath blowing against your now hot, blushed face, his musk clouding your senses, his hand burning into your skin. “And if you spoiled bitch call me an old man again, I’ll make you scream it, understand?”

“Listen to me, Rick old man Sanchez. I’m neither spoiled nor a bitch. And your pathetic attempt of whatever this is isn’t working.” Harsh words which didn’t match your bright red cheeks or beating heart. Your own body was betraying you. “Fuck you and fuck this garage. I’m going to chill with your grandkids.”

A smirk grazed Rick’s lips as you stood up and left without looking back. Interesting. Who knew that embarrassing you would be that much fun? You’re feisty, witty and bratty and not a bad sight to the eye.

“Ah, makes me want to tame that little girl.”

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x self insert #rick x reader #rick x you #rick x y/n #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x y/n

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rorkegirly07 · 26 days

Text

Welcome To My Blog<3

MASTERLIST

~About Me~

Heyyy<33 my name is Michele, I’m 27, and I’m from the U.S. I’m not that good at writing but it’s one of my favorite things to do!! I’m bi with a male lean, I use she/they pronouns! I really love music, my taste can range from phonk, electro pop, alt rock, hard rock, punk rock, metal, groove metal, nu metal, heavy metal, hardcore hip hop (or horrorcore), and so much more. But anyways other than all of this, let’s get into what I’ll write and what you can request!

~Fandoms~

(*The characters I specifically write under each fandom are just my go to characters when I write for any of these; ex: if you request headcanons for twd I’d write for each character listed below. So if you want anyone else, specify them in your request and I’ll write for them!!*)

The Walking Dead ;

Rick Grimes

Shane Walsh

Negan Smith

Daryl Dixon

COD mw2 & Ghosts ;

MW2:

Soap

Alejandro Vargas

Phillip Graves

Rudy Parra

Ghosts:

Keegan

Ajax

Rorke

Logan

Red Dead Redemption 2 ;

Arthur Morgan

John Marston

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Kieran Duffy

Bill Williamson

Sean MacGuire

Pantera ;

(Metal band)

Phil Anselmo

Rex Brown

Dimebag Darrell

Vinnie Paul

Beavis & Butthead ;

Beavis

Butthead

The Offspring ;

(Punk band)

Dexter

Noodles

Greg

Ron

~what I will and won’t write~

What I will write ;

• Character x Reader

• Smut

• Fluff

• Angst

• She/Her, He/Him, or They/Them pronouns

• Gore

• Jealousy

• Platonic!Reader

• Romantic!Reader

(*I’ll write anything you request except for what I put under ‘what I won’t write’*)

What I won’t write ;

• Character x Character

• Character x OC

• Rape or SA

• Incest

• Cheating or being cheated on

• Threesomes or any kind of group sex

• Poly relationships / Open relationships

~My Defaults~

My “defaults” are basically just how I’d normally write things unless requested or specified otherwise.

So normally I’d write for a fem!reader, romantic relationship between character and reader, fluff and sometimes smut.

If you send any request and do not specify these, then that’s how I’d write it so make sure you specify what you want!!

~Thank You!!~

My requests are always open!!

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hannibalzero · 7 months

Text

Red dead redemption omegaverse

Update ❤️

So when I first made my omegaverse headcanons I was only half way through the game. But now, a lot of my options and ideas have changed.

Growth you know? So please humor me while I tell ya about our favorite band of outlaws

John Marston: he’s a alpha, very cocky about it. Will puff out his chest to make you think he runs the show…at least when Abigail isn’t around. Bi

Abigail is a female omega, but in gender only. Everyone knows who’s the real leader of the Marston pack. Abigail doesn’t really care about her genders just wants to be the best mom she can be for Jack. Bi as well

Jack is a beta, he wants to be a alpha so badly like his father. It takes a long time for Jack to feel comfortable about himself. When he became a writer. Jack had done a lot of research, finally understanding the gang as a adult. Gay

Uncle? Uncle is Uncle but at one time he was a alpha, or so he says. No one really wants to know. An ace king

Javier is a beta, he doesn’t care about it. All he knows is that he’s bi. He misses his family and homeland but the Van der Linde pack is his family now.

Sean is a omega and will fight you if you point it out. Sean is straight and loves himself some boobies. Or so he says, he has been caught ogling a few good looking men with their shirts open. Straight/maybe polyamorous..he hasn’t become aware of that part of himself yet

Karen is a alpha female, Sean is her sweet little omega. She plays like she’s an omega when she’s robbing, pays better. She is considering making Sean an honest omega. Polyamorous.

Tilly, a omega bit a spitfire of one. She’s like Abigail and just tries to do her best. Her old gang tried to make her a pack breeder, it’s why she killed a man and ran to the Van der Linde gang. Lesbian

Mary-Beth, she’s a beta. She romanticizes the whole secondary gender one true mate thing. She’s still young, she’ll grow out of it. Maybe not… makes great romance novels ❤️ straight

Kieran: omega boi, loves his horses. Is very protective of himself when it comes to anything sexual. Keeps away from people so he isn’t touched. He’s demisexual but really likes Mary-Beth.

Pearson: beta and ace, just keeps to himself. Likes sending naughty letters with some feller a few states away.

Grimshaw is a omega women who was bonded to Dutch at one point. Bond broken but loyal. She takes care of the camp like it was her own pups. Straight

Molly, a high end omega women. Dutch’s newest Mate. She loves the man but knows deep down that she could not have pups with him. As much as Dutch wants a pup so bad he can taste it. Bi

Hosea: omega, he was Dutch’s first mate. They broke that bond when John joined the family. Hosea loved Dutch but loved Bonnie more. Bonnie was his one true love and privately considered John and Arthur his pups with her. Not Dutch. Stays in the pack to be with his family now. Bi

Dutch: alpha, wants to be the most alpha alpha that ever alpha’d. Wants to lead a huge pack that he is king of, gets board easily. Changes Mates when the mood strikes him, but privately knows his one true mate was Hosea that he threw away. He likes Molly, mostly because of what she does for him. Bi

Strauss: ace beta and not really interested in anything but money.

Swanson: Polly, he’s an all or nothing type of omega.

Josiah trelawany; a alpha that loves other alphas. Yeah he has a family in Saint Denis, but that’s just a marriage of convenience. He has men in every city after all!

Bill: gay as hell, alpha and self loathing.

Micha bell, straight and a Alpha. Looks down on anyone and anything. Thinks beta and omegas are only good for keeping his knot warm. Micha is sterile. Pissing him off more.

Charles Smith, demi alpha. Women are wonderful, Men are wonderful. Why chose. Is big on serious relationships. Charles knows what he wants and goes after it.

Sadie, alpha female. After the loss of her husband, she realized she enjoyed women more. There would never be another man like her husband after all.

Arthur Morgan, omega and bi. Arthur hides the fact he is an omega. It makes him uncomfortable when people know because suddenly people treat him differently. As the gangs enforcer, that’s not useful. Force celibate because Dutch gave him a order to keep his damn legs closed. So he had, feels like sex gets him in trouble, even with women. He hates dressing like an omega but has a love of soft fabrics and underwear. A lot of self loathing but maybe Charles will help him with that. 🦌🦬🦌🦬

Well that’s the updated version of the omegaverse headcanons. Any questions just ask!

#my writing #rdr2 #omegaverse #van der linde gang #update #headcanons #alpha beta omega #sexuality #lgbtq community

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dirty-bear-rick-sanchez · 2 years

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Can we all please take a moment to appreciate the fact that Justin Roiland seems to just make every (main) character bi by default

3/5 of the Smith family are shown to be interested in people of other genders as well as people of the same gender (who aren’t them), and the remaining 2/5 have been shown to be interested in their clones (Beth in the show and Morty in the comics)

And in Solar Opposites, as well as Terry and Korvo being explicitly shown to be bisexual, Jesse says she’d ‘put a bun in that oven’ in regards to Sigourney Weaver and Yumyulack considers the possibility of marrying Mark Melner.

I feel like the sexuality of most of his characters is ‘bi eventually’ where, given long enough, the character will express attraction to someone of their own gender (even if it’s just to their own clone)

#rick and morty #rick and morty spoilers #rnm #rnm spoilers #bethic twinstinct #solar opposites #selfcest #queer #bisexual #lgbt #lgbt+#justin roiland #i’m not tagging all the characters individually because i’m lazy

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negativemindfeild · 22 days

Text

is it really that hard?

just read...

SHOWS;

shameless ;

ian gallagher, fiona gallagher, lip gallagher, mickey milkovich, kevin ball, v fisher, carl gallagher, and frank gallagher

nsfw available for all [ s5 + for ian, lip, and mickey, s11 for carl]

stranger things ;

jim hopper, steve harrington, eddie munson, nancy wheeler, jonathan byers, billy hargrove, mike wheeler, will byers, dustin henderson, lucas sinclair, max mayfield, and el hopper

nsfw available for all except mike, will, dustin, lucas, max, and el

the umbrella academy ;

diego hargreeves, allison hargreeves, klaus hargreeves, five hargreeves, ben hargreeves, and viktor hargreeves

nsfw available for all except five

the last of us ;

joel miller [ROMANTIC] ellie williams [PLATONIC]

nsfw available for joel

black butler ;

sebastian micheals, finny, bard, mei-rin, grell sutcliff, william t. spears, undertaker, and claude faustus

nsfw available for all

inside job ;

reagan ridley, brett hand, ron staedtler, and andre lee

nsfw available for all

kobra kai ;

daniel larusso, johnny lawrence, hawk moskowitz, robby keene, miguel diaz, and demetri alexopoulos

nsfw available for daniel and johnny

supernatural ;

sam winchester, dean winchester, castiel novak, lucifer, crowley, and john winchester

nsfw available for all

lucifer [netflix] ;

lucifer morningstar

nsfw available

demon slayer ;

kyojuro rengoku, tengen uzui, obanai igura, sanemi shinazugawa, mitsuri kanroji, shinobu koxho, giyu tomioka, gyomei himejima, daki, gyutaro, muzan kibutsuji, kokoshibo, douma, akaza, enmu, tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agamatsu, inosuke hashibira, genya shinazugawa, and muichiro tokito

nsfw available for all except tanjiro, zenitsu, inosuke, genya, or muichiro

gotham ;

oswald cobblepot, fish moony, sal maroni, victor zsasz, edward nygma, harvey bullock, harvey dent, alfred pennytworth, and bruce wayne

nsfw available for all except bruce

daredevil ;

matt murdock

nsfw available

the mandolorian ;

din djarin 'mando'

nsfw available

GAMES;

call of duty ;

simon riley 'ghost', johnny mactavish 'soap', john price, kyle garrick 'gaz', alejandro vargas, phillip graves and könig

nsfw available for all

red dead redemption 2 ;

arthur morgan, bill williamson, charles smith, colm o'driscoll, dutch van der linde, hosea matthews, javier escuella, john marston, kieran duffy, micah bell, karen jones, mary-beth gaskill, abigail roberts and sean magurie

nsfw available for all

team fortress 2 ;

spy, mun-dee mundy 'sniper', jeremy 'scout', mr ludwig 'medic', mikhail 'heavy', pyro, tavis finnegan degroot 'demoman', mister jane doe 'soldier', dell gonagher'engineer'

nsfw available for all

stardew valley ;

harvey, maru, sebastian, abigail, sam, penny, elliott, leah, alex, hailey, shane, emily, and sandy

nsfw available for all

sally face ;

sal fisher, travis phelps, larry johnson, and ash campbell

nsfw unavailable

mortal kobat 1 ;

johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, raiden, kung lao, lui kang, kui liang 'scorpion', bi-han 'sub-zero', tomas vrbada 'smoke', syzoth 'reptile', rain, kitana, mileena, and sindel

nsfw available for all

doki doki literature club ;

monica, yuri, natsuki, and sayori

nsfw unavailable

danganronpa ;

makoto naegi, byakuya togami, mondo owada, kiotaka ishimaru, yasuhiro hagakure, leon kuwata, hajime hinata, nagito kamado, izuru kamakura, chiaki nanami, gundham tanaka, sonia nevermind, kazuichi souda, fuyuhiko kuzuryu, peko pekoyama, ibuki mioda, shuichi saihara, kokichi ouma, gonta gokuhara, k1-b0, miu iruma, rantaro amami, kaito mamota, kaede akamatsu, and kirumi tojo

nsfw available for all

MOVIES;

spiderverse ;

peter b parker, miguel o’hara, hobie brown, spider-man noir, ben parker, jess drew, miles morales, miles morales [ earth-42 ], gwen stacy, and pavitr prabhakar

nsfw available for peter b, miguel, hobie, noir, ben, and jess

star wars ;

obi-wan kenobi, anakin skywalker, padme amidala, qui-gon jinn, luke skywalker, han solo, leia skywalker, ben solo ‘kylo ren’, poe dameron, finn, rey skywalker, armitage hux, and cassian andor

nsfw available for all

marvel cinematic universe ;

tony stark, steve rogers, bucky barnes, sam wilson, pietro maximoff, wanda maximoff, vision, bruce banner, natasha romanoff, clint barton, peter parker, loki laufeyson, and thor odinson

nsfw available for all except peter

x-men ;

logan howlett ‘wolverine’, peter maximoff ‘quick silver’, erik lehnsherr ‘magneto’, charles xavier, hank mccoy ‘beast’, kurt wagner ‘nightcrawler’, warren worthington iii ‘archangel’, storm, and scott summers ‘cyclops’

nsfw available for all

deadpool ;

wade wilson ‘deadpool’, colossus, and weasel

nsfw available for all

karate kid ;

daniel larusso and johnny lawrence

nsfw unavailable

the breakfast club ;

john bender, andrew clark, brian johnson, claire standish, and allison reynolds

nsfw available for all

the outsiders ;

dallas winston, darry curtis, sodapop curtis, steve randell, two-bit matthews, johnny cade, and ponyboy curtis

nsfw available for darry and two-bit

the hobbit ;

bilbo baggins, thorin oakensheild, fili durin, kili durin, thranduil, legolas greenleaf, and bofur

nsfw available for all

lord of the rings ;

frodo baggins, sam gamgee, merry brandybuck, pippin took, gimli, legolas greenleaf, aragorn, and boromir

nsfw available for all

scream ;

billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, sidney prescott, tatum riley, and dewey riley

nsfw available for all

the ballad of songbirds and snakes ;

coriolanus snow, sejanus plinth, lucy gray baird, reaper ash, and jessup diggs

nsfw available for all except lucy gray

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

Not One of Many - An Alfie Solomons/Beth Drake (OC) Story.

Because I’m so bloody excited to share this, here, have the prologue! Depending on how much I get written over the next few days, I could possibly be ready to begin posting next week, so watch this space! Story is set in AU for Alfie, modern day as well, so if you’re more of a period purist, you may want to give it a miss.

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 1,830

Warnings - 18+ for later chapters. Minors DNI!

Prologue

“I invited you here as a courtesy, rather than emailing or choosing to call. You know that I usually enjoy including your work within the publication, such should go without saying, but I’m afraid this is sub-par compared to previous sterling standards, Beth. It lacks that witty vibrance which I normally see in your articles. The entire piece was mawkish, yet your descriptions were the furthest thing from visceral. You are not convincing me that you have any kind of eager or earnest interest in the subject, therefore you shall fail to rouse such in the reader.

“It was all fluff, but I didn’t feel any kind of conviction behind your stance on the matter. I felt like you were attempting to convince yourself of your own choices relating to the subject matter, fool yourself, even. It was almost as if you were overcompensating because of regret. It came off as cloy. I’m sorry, but I am not going to include it in this issue.”

Sitting in a plush, beige chair in front of the desk of Madeline Arlington-Smith, editor-in-chief of the bi-monthly London Life and Style Magazine, Beth experienced the unpleasant sensation of her stomach turning over. Suddenly, she felt as if she were back in school, having her English homework critiqued by the equally formidable Mrs Davies, with her booming tones and a bright red pen for aggressively scribbled corrections. Madeline lacked the red pen, though.

“I see. Could you at least give me some time so I might make a few alterations?” she asked tentatively, her confidence steamrollered by Madeline’s biting tone.

“No. The piece is beyond saving and we go to print in two days’ time. If you manage to produce something better, a piece worth reading within the next six weeks, though, send it my way. If, however, it is as dreadful as what you emailed to me yesterday morning, do not expect for me to leave the door open for your continued relationship with the magazine. I am not in the habit of publishing such saccharine bullshit.

“You should go away now, lick your wounds, pull your head out of whichever cloud it has become lost within in even thinking that piece would be considered, and come back brighter to me. You are an incredibly talented journalist. Show that. Good evening, Beth.”

Nodding, she rose from her seat, Madeline’s words truly making her feel as if she’d just been mauled by a large, antagonised cobra. She now saw exactly why the famed and feared editor earned the nickname of the viper within the publishing world. Saccharine bullshit. Ouch.

“I need a bloody drink.” she muttered, striding towards the elevator, her smart pencil dress and blazer now feeling somewhat stifling rather than comfortably hugging. Of course, dealing with her articles being rejected was something that Beth was long used to, working as a journalist, and a freelance one at that. It was, however, the first time she had faced the wrath of Madeline, an editor she usually had a very good rapport with. Not today, though.

As the elevator descended, so further did her mood, replaying all of the remarks Madeline had made over her piece detailing the plight of women who chose to remain childless in the face of society’s demands and pressures that they put their wombs to the use nature intended. Beth took that personally, for at twenty-nine, she still preferred tending lovingly to her career rather than the idea of settling down to raise a family.

“How could I be mawkish, yet unconvincing? Trying to convince myself, too?” Watching the lit-up circles of each floor tick down one by one on the panel, she chewed her cheek in frustration, cursing that she’d used her last piece of gum prior to her meeting. Clicking her heel repeatedly off the tiled elevator floor, she was a picture of wound-up frustration, those same Louboutin heels striking the polished marble of the foyer floor with aggressive little clacks as she strode upon it after the doors had opened with a silky glide, Beth exiting the building, glad of the fresh air hitting her face. Well, as fresh as it could be for London.

A drink. Such would of course be facilitated by a bar, but not spending an enormous amount of time in Chelsea, an area much too far out of her price range to frequent, it took her a few moments to navigate her way. Looking up the street through the rush hour traffic, she saw a large venue on the corner, deciding that Midland Bar would be her chosen venue to commence her tipping wine down her throat until her senses were suitably dulled.

Upon arriving inside, though, she saw that perhaps Midland Bar was as much out of her price range as the rest of the area in which it was situated, Beth feeling most definitely like a fish out of water. True, her clothes might have been designer, taking into consideration the aforementioned Louboutin's on her feet and the Tom Ford dress she wore, but they were from two seasons’ past (also picked up from designer discount site HEWI) and put beneath a blazer from Topshop, teamed with an Osprey bag from TK Maxx. She almost always purchased designer pieces on a budget.

“Cabernet Sauvignon, please,” she requested at the bar, the smiling girl with the immaculate ringlets nodding.

“Small or large, madam?”

“Bottle.” After having both her journalism insulted and her personal beliefs called into question, more than a mere singular glass was in order. She would regret such a decision when the price was displayed across the register, that particular bottle costing as much as she would usually spend on a nice, three course dinner. Tonight, wine would be her sustenance, it seemed. She had a full fridge at home, though, should she be feeling peckish later on.

Looking around, she surveyed her surroundings while sipping her wine, which after the first mouthful she deduced was definitely worth the hefty price tag. Wandering over to the end of the bar, she looked at a framed picture of the establishment in days gone by, the photograph depicting how it had stood back in the 1940’s, when it had been the old Midland Bank. Her curiosity sated, she moved back to her place and continued to people watch.

The clientele were mostly business types, all Armani suits and Tag Heur watches, the smell of luxurious cologne and perfume filtering through the air as the patrons chatted about overseas business trips and brokering deals for eye watering sums of money, Beth drinking in the atmosphere as she sipped her wine and checked her phone.

After wading through the usual slew of twenty percent off your next order emails and Instagram notifications, she placed it back and continued with her people watching, her eye caught by three women sitting at a table within the slightly elevated section, surrounded by luxury shopping bags.

They were the very embodiment of the quintessential, glamorous London gal pals, all chatting and sipping what looked to be champagne (it was doubtful that Midland Bar stocked prosecco) their hands adorned with beautiful jewellery. The striking brunette wore the coveted Cartier panther ring, which Beth knew from checking online carried a price tag of thirty-six thousand pounds. It was a little gaudy for her tastes, but while browsing the site on a wistful ‘if I had the money, this is what I would purchase’ exercise, she had noticed the cost.

There they were, three wealthy women without a care in the world as they drank what was revealed to be Dom Perignon, when the redhead lifted the bottle from the ice bucket and topped up their glasses, and there she was, wondering how she would make next month’s rent after Madeline’s cruel evisceration of her most recent submission. Yes, the £67.95 bottle of wine was definitely not the most appropriately of timed purchases.

She would relish in every sip of her last extravagant expenditure until financial conditions improved, turning back to the bar and pouring out a second glass.

“Pardon me, my darlin’,” she then heard from behind her, a hand placed gently to the small of her back as a man stepped past her, moving down the bar until he stopped in front of the girl who had served her. “Kerry, my little flower. How are ya?” he spoke warmly, outstretching his hand and wriggling his fingers in gesture for hers. She obliged, the handsome man in the deep blue, three-piece suit taking it and bestowing a kiss.

“I’m good thanks, Alfie. How are you?” she smiled in reply, continuing to supervise the steady stream of Guinness into a pint glass.

“That’s what I like to hear! As for me, never better, treacle. Never better. The usual at my table when you’ve got a moment, love.” With a wink that would make the most glacial of women melt, he turned on his heel and strode across the bar, arriving at the table with the three women Beth had previously been quietly envying. The tall brunette rose from her seat to greet him, his hands sliding around her waist as he kissed her deeply, yet fleetingly, leaning down to the redhead, and greeting her much the same... and then the blonde as well.

“Blimey, he’s either very friendly or very popular,” Beth muttered, just loud enough for her thoughts to be overheard.

“I take it you’ve never been here before then, no?” Kerry the barmaid asked behind her as she filled an ice bucket, Beth a tad bashful to have been heard.

“I haven’t, no. What’s the story there?” she asked, leaning back over her shoulder as she watched him sit down with the women.

Kerry continued with her scooping of ice, as entertained as ever by the reaction of someone who hadn’t a clue over the scene they’d just witnessed. “That’s Alfie Solomons, he owns this place as well as many others, and those women with him are his girlfriends.”

“Girlfriends?” Beth inquired, putting extra emphasis on the pluralisation.

“Yep, he dates multiple women at once. Amira, the brunette, she’s his long stay, been with him for about three years. Talia, the redhead, around a year and Mimi, the blonde, about five months, or thereabouts. It’s hard to keep track.”

Beth raised her eyebrows, trailing the rim of her wine glass with her fingernail. “Nice work if you can get it.”

Kerry laughed, dunking the bottle of Dom in amongst the ice before picking up a tumbler, adding a few cubes and siphoning in soda water. “Oh yeah. He's the talk of Chelsea, that man.” She filled the tray with three fresh flutes, placing the soda water and bucket atop it before excusing herself, heading over to the table in question.

“The talk of Chelsea.” Beth mused, sipping her wine. Madeline might have disagreed at that very moment in time, but she knew a good article when one presented itself.

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Talk to me, I’m ever so friendly :) Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!

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