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dolcettamagica · 2 months

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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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d33pwithinmys0ul · 4 months

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One Shot For Pondhue Rick Sanchez x Reader Fluff

I hope this doesn't format weird, but I've been doing one shot fanfic for art trades, this is my first finished one! If you're interested go ahead and dm me but I've got lots to tackle.

I love @pondhue's art, be sure to check them out, this is what they requested, enjoy :)

“Summer!” Morty yelled up the stairs in an exasperated voice. Both his hands are clenched on the straps of his backpack. “I-I’m gonna be late for math, Mom said we have to walk together this time.”

You were cross legged on the recliner as you watched her bound down the stairs with a pink zippered pouch in hand.

“Don’t act like you give a shit about your education Morty, it’s not a good look for you.” She rolls her eyes in his direction and hands you the pouch. “You can use anything but Funny Bunny and the glitters. See you tonight!” She was out the door before you could even say thank you.

“She’s fuckin’ killing me, y/n.” Morty gave a frustrated huff. The door slams shut and you stifle a laugh.

You almost slide off of the recliner in favor of the floor, then go through Summer’s nail stuff. The polish bottles all clink against one another gently.

It was empty and quiet. The Beths and Jerry had said something about a galactic honeymoon before being cut off by disgusted groans from Rick and the kids. It was an easy job to take.

You turn on the TV for some background noise, and decide to pick your favorite color.

House sitting seemed unnecessary for the Smiths, but it would be nice to be around Rick more in light of your recent “exclusivity.” Rick’s chosen word, not yours. It was kinda sweet, you supposed.

You start with your left hand, laying it flat on the coffee table. It was fun, and soothing.

Exclusive was a nice term, you think. Not too distant, or too territorial. He respected you.

You were starting another finger when you heard the familiar warp of a portal materializing in the kitchen.

God, Rick was noisy. Every box and bottle in the fridge resounded as if he were taking inventory, he hacked and coughed every few seconds. Was he aware that you were here? Was he trying to make a point, like you had to acknowledge his presence first?

You continue without a word. Maybe you could do your toes too? Should you match, or pick another color?

Your mouth twitched as you saw him from the corner of your eye. He plopped himself down on the couch, adjacent to your spot on the floor, with a drink in his hand. He burps and changes the channel.

There was a comfortable silence, only the noise of different shows and commercials, human looking humans, nothing you’d usually see on interdimensional cable with him.

Rick drapes his arm on the back of the couch. “Y-you gonna join me?”

“In a little bit, I’m almost done,” you said.

He grunts in reply.

Why was he being so quiet, almost shy?

You finished your last finger, waving them around a little to dry. You look back up at the TV, and literal shit is being spread on a bagel.

“Jesus,” you automatically cringe and turn to Rick, “Why?”

“Poop deli,” he shrugs and takes a big swig of beer.

“That.. Is not–romantic,” you said.

He snorts but changes the channel anyway. “I didn’t realize you needed wooing right now, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Who said I needed it?” You say incredulously, flapping your hands to dry your nails faster. You know you looked silly and laughed a little as soon as you started.

“‘S a good color on you,” Rick almost mumbles, vaguely gesturing to the little set up of polish and remover, and all the other contents of Summer’s pouch on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” You slide the nail stuff across the table and sit on the carpet next to Rick’s foot. “Maybe you could join me?”

“On the floor?” Rick’s voice almost reflected your own earlier regarding ‘poop deli.’

“It won’t kill you,” you said. “I was hoping I could do your nails too?” You almost didn’t ask, but you were curious. Sure, Rick usually gave most things shit, but you’d like to think you were his soft spot.

“And what are you thinking, exactly?” He squints at you almost mockingly. He lowers himself smoothly onto the floor next to you.

“How about…” Your hand hovers over a few different bottles in Summers collection. “Lincoln Park After Park,” you said and handed him the bottle.

“I’m—eughhh–’m not wearing purple.” He said flatly. He places it on the table and takes another swig of beer.

“It’s basically black,” you scoffed. “I think it’s pretty. You’re lucky I don’t want to do the whole damn nail routine on you. I’m sure your cuticles are atrocious.”

Rick exhaled sharply through his nose, and rolled his eyes dramatically and splayed his large, bony hands out on the coffee table. “Before I change my mind.”

You smile with satisfaction and scoot closer to him, going from sitting to kneeling. Tall bastard. You almost get poked by his knee as he crouches in an almost frog-like position, you laugh at the look on his face as you untwist the bottle. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek right before he starts complaining.

“That is a purple tinge,” he insists, emphasizing the color.

“It’s black,” you set the bottle on the table and grab his hand. You start on his pinky finger, feeling the rough skin of his palm. “It’s not permanent, don’t be a child.”

“I’m aware of the properties of Earth nail polish,” he uses his free hand to take a swig of his beer, which almost spilled all over the carpet. “Forgive me for being a little more s–eughh-selective.”

“Earth nail polish?” You laugh. “So there’s alien versions, you mean?”

“Obviously. More durable and vibrant iterations of this shit. Think of that blackest black bullshit, but better. And it doesn’t stink. Just an obvious superiority of the wonders of the galaxy over puny mundane humanity.” His lab coat collar was wonky and he didn’t sound too serious about the last part.

“Mhm,” you said as you spaced his pinky away and moved onto his ring finger, careful not to smudge your own. “And how’d you get so familiar with galactic cosmetics?” He shrugged. “Old band days. I’ve told you about this before,” his eyebrow furrowed.

You could see a little bit of the purple tint as you finished another nail.

“Drunken rants barely count as telling me,” you said. “The Flesh Curtains,” you said with a flourishing stroke.

“Th-this, it’s the first time since then I’ve gotten my nails painted,” he said, a little surprised at himself. “Bit of bird DMT and common sense is m-euguhghh-more than enough to overcome, fuckin gender societal bullshit.” He was watching your hands, one painting, the other keeping his still. “If you paint it all over the fingertip it’ll come off in the shower. Don’t exactly shower much at Birding Man, though.”

“That’s where you guys met, right?” You asked.

“Mhm,” Rick said. “Thirty somethin’ and didn’t give much of a fuck to do shit else. Just shows and drugs and all the usual rockstar bullshit. I was young. BP gave me a guitar and we were too shitfaced to stop ourselves.”

“Bird Person doesn’t seem the musical type,” you say as you take his other hand and dip the brush into the bottle of polish. “That’s pretty cool.”

“He’s a fuckin’ genius.” He waves his free hand. “Bird planet stuff gave him a natural advantage, I think. Heavy into classical. Would’ve been a w–eughhh–waste, -i-if he never did anything with it.”

“So what kind of music did you make?” You asked, smiling. You were trying not to seem too enthusiastic. You didn’t think he’d be so willing to open up.

“Eughh–it was the eighties, I think, don’t fuckin’ remember too much. Rock, nu metal. For a bit we used an invention of mine with an algorithm that c-cal-calibrated the data from other successful rock acts across the known universe to write songs for us, bullshit like that. Didn’t work out. BP almost got us to do new-wave, n-eughh-not my cup of tea.” He takes his flask from his lab coat pocket.

“Squanchy didn’t want that either. Too hyperactive. We found him squanchin’ backstage by the drumkit when we wanted to crash the festival, so that role for him happened naturally. I don’t think you’ve met him. When we were on the road I’d have to sing him to sleep while I drove cuz BP would just pass out. If Squanchy didn’t get a goddamn lullaby he’d have to squanch to go to bed, and that was when I actually gave a shit if my ship was clean..”

“I advise you to restrain your speed. Breaking Blimmyjink highway laws will further delay our performance,” Bird Person said in his monotone voice.

“I swear to fucking god, I’ll eject you into the vast emptiness of space if you spill that goddamn beer!” Rick yelled over his shoulder while keeping his eyes on the road. He coughed and hacked before narrowly swerving around another vehicle.

They worked real hard to get a gig at the Celestes, and he wasn’t going to let shit ruin it. Rick growled a little as he forced himself to ease up on the gas pedal.

“I didn’t spill squanch!” Squanchy whined.

“Should’ve brought my damn portal gun, you stupid fucks,” he barked at the other members in the car. “U—eughh-unbelievable.” Rick had thought that a road trip-esque approach to a few of their gigs would create some type of positive relationship without too many drugs involved.

The galactic highway had too much traffic for a Thursday night, they had a shit time slot. He weaved in and out of lines of other ships and cars, speeding to get to the venue. His glass beer bottle nearly tipped over in the cup holder, before his bandmate caught it with a feathered hand.

“You’re in distress,” BP observed.

“You deserve a medal,” Rick muttered.

“What seems to be the issue?” Bird Person persisted.

“We need time t-to set up. No fuckin’ brainer. Even with the damn Band in a Box mechanism every .5 seconds counts in this GODDAMN TRAFFIC!” Rick yelled and honked his horn.

The driver in front of him extended a tentacle out of their window.

“Is he flipping me off?” Rick asked, glancing at his cat-like drummer in the back seat.

“Nah, he’s just giving you the squanch. Could be way worse, Rick.” Squanchy replied before chugging the rest of his drink, his feet kicked up on the drivers seat.

“Paws down asshole, you’ll sing yourself to sleep tonight,” Rick said through gritted teeth.

“Your voice is slightly hoarser than usual.” Bird Person said. “Perhaps your agitated state is creating strain on your physical health.”

“Only by 20.8%, which literally d-eughh-doesn’t matter,” Rick quipped. “This is a really important show, you know that.”

BP rifled through his satchel made of leaves and other stupid shit Rick didn’t see the point in before. He pulled out an unusually large acorn.

“It is infused with healing syrups and herbs from my home planet. I insist.” He handed it to him when they slowed to a stop at a light. “It may soothe you.”

“What-am-am I supposed to eat this like an apple?” Rick's eyebrow arched before glancing back at the road.

“If by apple you imply a hand sized, edible food source–”

“Whatever,” Rick grumbled and took the acorn begrudgingly.

“Thank you for giving me your trust,” his bandmate replied.

The show at the Celestes had been a hit. It helped them book other gigs–turns out there were some good connections to make on a random Thursday night. Rick wasn’t on vocals that show, but he felt a lot better. He got so drunk that he crowd surfed and shit his pants in a broom closet.

“We ended up having a p-pretty decent sized fan base on Blimmyjink even after we disbanded. Pers didn’t neutralize any of the tannins in that acorn, though,” Rick said with a laugh. “Tasted like shit.”

You were almost done with his second hand, almost wishing you could stall so he wouldn’t stop talking.

It was really nice of him to speak more about his past, considering Rick wasn’t very comfortable with his backstory, or a lot of what happened before he and Morty moved to this dimension. You could tell he was really trying.

“That seems really fun. It would be nice to meet Squanchy sometime.” You put away the polish and rubbed his shoulder. “I didn’t realize you and BP had been so close. He doesn’t seem like the type to paint his nails.”

Rick scoffs. “Yeah, no thanks to me. They wanted to be lame and go onstage as they were, like f-fuckin’ Weezer or something. It was fun styling everyone. I had pierced ears back then too, we were so fuckin’ drunk–shit was lopsided.”

He rolled his eyes and pressed a button on his watch, careful not to smudge his nail.

A little holo projection appeared of an old picture you’d seen before. Rick, Bird Person, and Squanchy on stage. Fire effects erupting by the drumset, Bird Person with his wings displayed powerfully behind him, Rick lost in thought as his face contorted while striking the strings of his instrument.

“Wow, yeah. You guys look amazing,” you try not to giggle a little at Rick’s get up. You hadn’t seen it in detail like this before— spiked leather bracelets, a skull on his belt buckle, the loosest, skinniest tank top that was as far away from his chest as possible, and a choker around his neck. Jesus Christ. What a choice, what a man.

“Clearly I was the o-eughh-only one that actually looked good,” Rick said with a wink. “But it was some good shit. We never made any money doing it. But we had some good memories.”

Rick's hands were both free as the nails dried, so he used them more as he talked. “That time in my life w-was a goddamn free for all. I trusted BP for no good reason when I’d been bitter and angry for years. We all almost wrote a whole album that night, after Birding Man, but Squanchy drunk pissed all over my equipment and we lost the files.”

“And drunk Rick didn’t waterproof his stuff back then?” You ask dubiously.

“I–eughh–I think I can say I was a lesser man back then.” He said with a shrug.

“Do you miss it?” You ask.

“Loose shirts, shittier tech, different mindset back then. I don’t regret it, but I was...just running from a lot of shit. It was escapism. Every musician is disturbed, art is mental illness, whatever bullshit you wanna . I-I think I needed it.” He said fondly. “I’m a little less likely to do donuts in a Blimmyjink parking lot these days.”

The TV hums quietly in the background and you take in the natural pause.

You take his hand cautiously, admiring the fit of yours with his, the new polish on your nails. “Thank you for giving me your trust.”

He brings his palm to your cheek and kisses your forehead.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #oneshot #fluff #flesh curtains rick #trade #birdperson

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soldateins · 11 months

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'Down with the Alien Sickness' - Rick Sanchez x Female Reader

I deleted my account last year and I remember how much people loved this fanfic so, I'm posting it again <3

Basically, I'm really sick. I can't talk or anything. So, I decided I'd write my first ever R&M fanfic! Where OC is sick but it gets worse in a way that you'd not expect (hopefully!) I hope I write Rick well. He can be slightly out of character but... He's nice sometimes in it which is MEGA OOC for Rick. I also hope it's pretty good anyway, I haven't written in about a year so, holy shit. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Rick Sanchez x Female Reader

Any warnings: Sickness, OC gets ill with something, panicking, Rick bring Rick, it's also fluffy and cute at the end - Word count: 2,957

It had been a few days since I'd come home from college sick. Rick forced me to have the past 4 days off and despite my protest, the true look of concern on his face made me follow his advice. He even 'advised' (forced) me to stay at the Smith household, sharing his surprisingly comfortable but small camper-bed with him. Luckily, Beth and Jerry didn't seem to mind, due to Rick doing a 'good deed' in Beth's eyes. In my eyes, it was Rick finding any excuse to have me near him and by the looks Summer gives Rick, the smirk and raising of an eyebrow, she knew it too. I'll admit it, we have a.. 'thing', we just don't really talk about what the 'thing' is - And I find him more than good looking, but I just don't want Beth to find out, y'know, age gaps and all.

Anyway, I'd been sick for a few days, and it was only getting worse. Rick told me it was the common flu, but he had no idea how my stomach had felt, and today was the worst day, by far. I'd spent most of the day lying in his bed, groaning. Quickly, I rose from Rick's camper-bed, suddenly needing to cough something up. Wrapping the thin green duvet around my shoulders, I barged through the door with my shoulder and bolted it to the bathroom.

I slammed the door, threw the duvet to the floor and knelt over the toilet. Shuddering and retching, I heard a gentle knock on the wood of the door, "Uh, Y/N? You- You okay? You don't sound uhhh- okay." Morty's voice whined it's way through the wood. I gagged, and my eyes widened as I brought up the weirdest looking neon green goop that I'd ever seen. I immediately felt relief, gasping for breath, "Yeah.. Uh.. I'm okay now. I think. You can come in, Morty." I shivered as Morty slowly opened the door.

He emitted a slightly unsettled whine as we locked eyes, "I- Ho- Holy shit, Y/N. What the fuck ha- What happened to you? Did- Did Rick do something? Ar-Are you pregnant or?" Morty quickly grabbed the soft duvet and wrapped it around my shoulders tightly, helping me up to sit on the side of the bath. I pulled a disgusted face and scoffed, "I'm sick. I'm not pregnant, and no, Rick had nothing to do with this. Or at least, to me, it happened out of nowhere." Raising my hand with a pointing, shaky finger, I took a breath in, "Can- can you look at whatever the fuck I just hacked up into the toilet? It didn't look real."

Morty cautiously took a step toward the toilet bowl and leaned over a little to look, then immediately recoiled, eyes wide and hand over mouth, "OH! What the FUCK?! Oh, oh! What is- what is that- that green stuff?!" He leaned forward again for another look but looked away just as quickly. I began to panic, shifting as I shouted, "What?! You- What do you mean?! You should know! You sho- Should know, right?" Morty reluctantly took a photo, the first time was with flash, he cursed himself, then took another, flushed the toilet, and came back to me, a firm hand cupping my shoulder, "C'mon, Y/N, let me take you down to Rick."

We got to the garage door and that's when Morty patted my back and gave me his phone, "Here, don't let Rick look through my shit, okay? I've got homework to do." He waltzed his way back into the lounge. I sheepishly knocked on the door, hearing an annoyed grunt in response, "What now, Jerry? There's no serum that'll give you a *burp* a job." I smiled, shook my head, and took that as my cue to open the door, "It's actually me." I croaked, entering the cool garage, wrapping myself tighter in the duvet. Rick took a quick glance at me, "What's up, sweetie? You want some mo-eurgh cough sy- syrup?" His voice had immediately changed, he actually sounded nice, "I um.. Actually.. Morty said.." I trailed off, trying to keep my balance as a shocking pain wreaked havoc in my stomach, "Oh fuck, oh shit!" I pressed my hands into my stomach, falling to my knees with a painful thud, "Morty said you've gotta- gotta help me. He said- He said something's really wrong!" I strained as Rick turned so fast that he was right next to me as I hit the floor.

My breathing turned heavy as my eyesight went slightly fuzzy and green. Rick grabbed my waist, lifted me up like a baby, and held my face up to give it a good look, "Jesus Christ, what the fuck have you been doing, Y/N?! It was just a cold!" He dragged my almost completely limp body to his desk, pushed all of the stuff to the side and sat me on it, leaning me against the cold wall to which I jolted up and let out a horrific screech, "I don't like that! Too co- cold!" I fell forward, my head landing on his right shoulder, "OKAY! Okay, we won't uh- *burp* Won't do that then!" He lay me down on my side as he ran to get the duvet off of the floor and shut the door to the garage. I cried out in pain, "Rick! What's going on? I can't see! It- It- It's so painful!" I writhed on the desk, kicking my feet out violently.

"You can't see?! Oh my G-*burp*-od!" His voice was choked and high. I could hear Rick's shoes clicking around quickly as he came over, covered me in the blanket, and began searching for things around the garage. I rocked myself side to side, trying to settle myself until I felt Rick's arms wrap around my body, sitting me up and slipping me down onto his work stool. I felt the excruciating pain in my stomach as he set me down and emitted a loud scream, "Oh Jesus! Okay, Y/N! I'm gonna have to examine you, okay? You're gonna have to put up with this for a little longer!" Rick shouted over my raw yelling. I gritted my teeth as hard as I could, "Okay." I growled.

The garage door opened quickly, slamming against the wall, "What is going on in here?!" Beth shrieked. Rick didn't even turn around, "Beth. Honey. Not a good time." He spoke through a clamped jaw, I assume Beth looked at me because I heard her gasp "Oooookay.. Uh... Dinner will be on the table very uh.. Very soon." She left as quickly as she came. I began to lean into Rick's chest, losing consciousness, "No. Y/N. Stay with me. C'mon, sweetheart!" He slapped my face a few times and I felt him turn rigid as a deep aggressive growl erupted from my stomach and I began coughing that same sticky substance up onto his shirt, "Ohh shit." He shined a white light into each of my eyes, causing me to raspily howl, "Okay. Your eyes are all glazed over, red and bloodshot." I felt his fingers on my lips and he pried my mouth open, shining the light inside, "Eugh. Glowing sticky green mucus in the mouth. Mouth is also deep red in colour."

Suddenly a cold glass tube was scooped into my mouth and out again. I gave a guttural groan, "COLD!" Without thinking, my hand grabbed Rick's, tightly, he shouted out in pain, "Y/N. Let go.". I felt an inhumane scream ripple through my body as Rick grabbed me by the throat, "Let me go or I'll kill you." His breath was puffing against my face as he spoke and I felt my hand weaken, despite me not telling it to, "Thank you." He spat. His hands then returned to me, shining his light everywhere, "Your skin is grey. Each orifice is very dark and wet." His voice was calm as he poked and prodded, I, however, was becoming more frustrated, "Rick! I don't wan- wanna put up- up with this any- more!!" I sobbed, trying to tear myself away from him, unsuccessfully, "C'mon, shut up. Almost done."

I heard a lot of beeping and switches being flicked and buttons being pressed for a few minutes as Rick held one hand gently against my neck, just in case I tried to hurt him again. A few seconds later, Rick gave a quiet gasp, and made an almost guilty sounding 'damn it'. I then suddenly felt a very painful intrusion in my left thigh, "RICK!" I screamed, "It's for your own good, Y/N." He stated as I felt a thick string of aches flow through me.

Instantaneously, I started coughing and shaking, "Please let this work." I heard Rick mutter, as his arms wrapped around my body in a warm, tight embrace. My eyes moistened up and my sight slowly came back as I cried loudly, "Shh, c'mon now, it's okay, you're okay.." Rick whispered into my ear continuously until the shaking and coughing stopped and I was reduced to a heavy breathing, weak mess. Everything felt better. Well, my throat still killed and my nose was runny, but, everything else was completely gone.

I swallowed deeply, "Wh- What just happened?" I whispered. Rick didn't let go of me for a few minutes, "Rick?" I croaked, "I injected you with a serum that reduces what I think you had back down into the common cold. Luckily, it worked and I was right." His breathing was slow and heavy. With a sigh of relief and without a word, Rick took my right hand and hooked his arm around my waist. He helped me up and we left the garage.

"Hey Rick, Y/N! Wanna come an- an- an- and eat?" Morty called out from the dinner table that he and his family were sat at, "Uhh, we're good right now, Morty. Y/N needs time to recover from her si*burp*ckness." We continued walking to Rick's room. He carefully set me down on the bed, wrapping me in his duvet, "Wait here." He brought out his portal gun and left for another dimension, "Hmph. Okay then." I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth impatiently as I waited for him. After a few minutes, my phone dinged. It was a text from Rick: 'Hope ur OK, sweetie. Won't be long. R.'

I was leaned against the wall, peering around the most interesting room I would ever be in. After about 10 minutes, a portal opened up and Rick stepped out, with a small little blue person in a sort of delivery uniform, "This the place, Sir?" The person squeaked, "Uhp, Yeah. Ri*burp*ght over there." Rick pointed to the end of the camper-bed and a slightly odd, fleshy looking flat screen TV materialised in front of my eyes, "What the- the fuck? Rick?" I sat up, looking him right in the face, "Hey. Hey. Don't, don't say that around a Reeptipian, Y/N. They're one of the few alien races that actually understand those words." His voice was monotonous as he lifted his portal gun and it beeped twice, "Thank you, Sir." The little blue person hopped back on through the portal, but not before two giant boxes materialised on the floor, full of colourful packets of things that looked edible.

"I'm gonna say it again, what the fuck, Rick?" I tilted my head with raised brows, "Well excuuuuuse me for tryna surprise you and make you feel better!" He put his arms in the air, "What do you mean?" I asked, "Reeptipians have a thing for cinema and TV. They create the best TVs I've ever used, with interdimensional cable, and the best snack fooooods!" Rick opened the boxes and threw a load of stuff onto the bed before bouncing himself down onto it with me. I laughed at his enthusiasm and leaned my head against his chest as he pulled me close and turned on the TV.

"Oh, before I forget." Rick sat up, pulling a decently sized needle out of his coat, before taking off his mucus covered shirt and lab coat, "I- I- Please don't tell me that's for me!" I scrambled back against the wall at the top of the bed, "Nope. For me." Rick jabbed himself in the gut with it, letting out a rumbling growl, his legs kicking out slightly, "I seriously need to figure out how to vaccinate without injections." He pulled it out and threw it to the floor with a sigh. I watched him sit back, unsure of what happened, "Um, what was that?" I relaxed against the wall once again, "Didn't you hear me? It was a vaccination. Against that nasty shit that was all up in your system, sweetheart. Oh uh.. abo*burp*ut that." Rick's eyes were shifting from side to side.

My eyes narrowed, "What. What about it? That was the worst pain I've experienced so far." My voice was highly suspicious sounding as I stared at Rick, "Y'know that healthy alien cereal you had a few days back that uh.. You really liked and then had more of?" His lips pressed into a thin line and his demeanor was nervous, which is rare, "Yes. I do know it. The one you got me that tastes like strawberry. What about it? Spit it out." Rick scratched his head, "Funny thing. It's filled with alien bacteria that are beneficial for the aliens on the planet that I got it from. But.. It uh.. If a human ingests it.. It.. uh.. Tries to use your body as a host and kills and consumes you before moving on." He braced himself for me to kick off but, nothing came, and he opened his eyes, looking at me with trepidation. I blew a gust of air from my mouth that I was holding in, "Smartest man in the universe, huh? You get your girlfriend infected with some weird fucking alien bacteria?" I crossed my arms and then froze. Rick's eyes widened, "My what?" I began stuttering, "You're uh.. You- You're.." As I tried to search for a different word Rick interrupted me, "My girlfriend!" He laughed deeply, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me onto him, pressing his lips to mine.

I pulled away with a cough and Rick held my face in his big hands, tickling my jaw and making me giggle, "I'm sorry for not checking that cereal. It almost killed you." His eyebrows furrowed. I closed my eyes and inhaled his smell, I loved the muskiness mixed with a faint whiskey scent. I leaned into him, kissing his bare chest, "But it didn't. It fucking hurt, but it didn't kill me. Plus, aren't there other versions of me around? Do- do you know any?" Rick stiffened under me, "Well, yeah but.. They- they're not you. They're.. Different. In a bad way. I'd rather you not die no ma*burp*tter what, sweetie." He flipped through some crazy looking channels on the giant TV and settled on one, "I've checked over all of these candies by the way. They're safe. They won't try and eat you after you eat them." Rick gave a hoarse chuckle and wrapped his arms around my waist, his nails gently scratching the skin of my back under my shirt.

"Uh, Rick?" My voice came out very weak, "Hm?" He looked down at me, then back up to the TV, stuffing a few pink pieces of candy into his mouth. I hummed, "You uh- you wanna try some?" Rick lifted some of the candy up to my mouth, "Yeah, uh, sure." I smiled, letting him feed me some, "But uh, I have a question." I spoke with my mouth full, "Shoot." Rick shoveled more candy into his mouth, seemingly loving it, "Is this.. Is this thing we have.. More than a.. thing?" I looked toward the TV, not wanting to meet his intelligent eyes. He took a deep breath and I felt myself lift atop his chest.

Rick cleared his throat, "Uhm." I felt his fingertips tap against my skin whilst I began to internally panic, "Never mind. Shouldn't have asked." I quickly spoke but Rick shook his head, "Nononono! I- I- I didn't mean-! Fuck. I just.. You really- you really want that?" His voice wavered as he searched my face. I looked Rick straight in the eye and bit my lip, "Yes. I.. I want that. Do uhm.. Do you?" I lay my right leg over his thighs. Rick blinked a few times before answering, "I- Yeah. I want it too." I grinned, "Then I guess.. We're dating now?" Rick nodded with a smirk and gave my ass a squeeze, "I guess we are."

Rick filled his mouth with a different type of candy, it looked like glowing red rocks. I grabbed a handful and popped some into my mouth, they tasted very sweet, until they grated their way down my sore throat, I winced as the second piece of candy made my throat hot. I looked at the packet and there were flames all over it, "Ah! They're so hot!" I blew quick puffs of air out of my mouth, "It's okay, it only lasts until they're in your stomach." Rick patted my stomach with a smile. Rick's eyes shot toward the screen and he all of a sudden jolted, raising an arm, "Yes! Ball Fondlers, baby! This is the best TV show eveeer! Trust me, Y/N, you'll love this!"

And indeed I did love it. Well, until I fell into a deep sleep.

#rick sanchez #rick and morty #fanfic #words #fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty fanfic #fanfics #fanfic writing #rick and morty fandom #my writing #soldateins

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

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A Girl Like That

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Movie, Elvis Presley

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Red West, Sonny West, Jerry Schilling, Billy Smith, Lamar Fike, Marty Lacker,

Word Count: 1986 // Rating: Explicit

Summary: All Elvis wants to do is relax watching home movies. And this film premiere is one the boys won’t forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Requested, Requested Fic, Home Movies, Sex Tapes, Cockwarming, Orgasm Denial, Restraints, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Teasing, Semi Public Sex, Punishments, Masturbation, Pet Names, Degradation, Tying Up, Dom/Sub, Memphis Mafia, Anger, Arguing, Accidental Leak of Nudes, Breach of Privacy, Sex Toys, Vibrators

Notes: hope this is okay sweetie <3

Updated 8/23

Elvis Tags: @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996

Request - @elvispresleyisfit12 Could reader and elvis made a sextape and it’s proper dirty , well anyway elvis is showing the guys some footage of like them n stuff and then he accidentally puts in the sex tape he can’t get it off n you can choose the ending ( btw the fic the other day I requested was written beautifully thank you x ) 😘

‘Look at you, ’ Elvis cooed as he marvelled his way up her body with his camera. He couldn’t be seen but the voice behind the lens was unmistakably him. She was lying on the bed in front of him, wearing only her underwear as the camera panned upwards shaking a little as his fingers teased over the lace panties she was wearing before it continued upwards to her matching bra and eventually her face which was looking at him bashfully.

‘Elvis,’ she said looking away and placing her arms across her as if that would take the embarrassment away. ‘Nuh-uh Satnin don’t you Elvis me,’ he said sternly making her pout, ‘and don’t you pout either. This is your punishment remember.’ ‘But I didn’t do anything-’ she attempted to protest but he tutted stopping it in its tracks. ‘Didn’t do anything my ass,’ he said, ‘you don’t think I saw you teasing me in front of all those people? How you were sitting in my lap with no damn panties on hoping I’d fuck you when you knew I couldn’t?’ ‘I needed you,’ she said simply. ‘I know baby,’ he said tracing his finger back over her panties and making her moan, ‘but there are times I needed you and I couldn’t have ya. And I have to deal with it instead of being a little brat.’ ‘I’m always here for you,’ she pouted making him sigh. ‘I know darlin’ but you can’t be around every minute of the day now can ya? And I still have to deal. So I’m gonna teach you how to pace yourself.’ ‘How?’ she said biting her lip. ‘I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to come around,’ he chuckled nudging her to come towards him. She pushed herself until she was upright as he gazed down upon her lens first. His hand caressed her cheek allowing her to nuzzle into it for a moment and then he stated, ‘take off your underwear and lay back on the bed.’

Y/N nodded obediently and moved to unclasp her bra and shimmy it down her shoulders revealing her pert chest to him. Elvis groaned at the sight repeating it as she hooked her panties under her fingers and pushed them down her legs until he could grab them off her.

‘Jesus mama you’re soaked,’ he said as the damp panties came into contact with his hand. ‘Told you I needed you,’ she said cockily. ‘If you don’t stop with that smart mouth these panties are going in it,’ he said chuckling as her mouth snapped shut and looked at him scathingly, ‘now I know what you need baby but you also gotta learn a lesson, so…’

He fumbled with the camera showing down his body for a second until it was placed facing up towards the ceiling as he moved about. There was some movement behind the camera before it was picked up again, showing his toned torso and the fact he was painfully hard underneath his boxers, straining against them evidently, for just a moment.

Once again the camera was on Y/N, her eyes wide as Elvis dangled a silk scarf in front of her for a moment.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘I wanna trust you I do but I can’t so I’m gonna make sure you keep those hands to yourself.’

Y/N nodded and climbed onto her knees so Elvis could wrap the scarf around her wrists. He managed it well with one hand pulling her up towards him by the restraints, kissing her neck as he did so. She groaned again, grinding her hips forward against him in desperation which made him chuckle.

‘Oh you’re just insatiable arent you,’ he said. ‘I need you baby,’ she said. ‘I can tell,’ he said tilting the camera down so he could see his fingers tease through her slick, ‘I don't even need to touch you. So ready for me.’ ‘Always,’ she whimpered making Elvis sigh. He pushed her back onto her back, pulling her towards him by her legs as he pushed his boxers off. ‘I know which is why I’m gonna give you what you want,’ he said, grinning as she shivered when he teased his head through her lips, nudging her entrance, ‘but…’ ‘What?’ she asked looking up at him doe-eyed. ‘I ain’t gonna fuck ya,’ he said, ‘not like ya want me to. This movie is gonna be you coming undone around my dick.’ ‘Elvis,’ she grumbled, ‘I need it baby. You know I’m empty without it.’ ‘Nuh-uh,’ he said, ‘you’re not my little cum slut. Not tonight. You ain’t gonna be anything other than a cock warmer.’

And before she could protest he thrust inside her to his base watching as her eyes went wide. Elvis groaned fumbling around beside him until he produced a small vibrator which he put to her clit making her gaze fall on him properly as she shivered. He teased it around her swollen bud until he worked up a rhythm which she tried to mimic and move her hips towards him.

‘Uh uh,’ he said slapping her ass to make her look at him. ‘Elvis please,’ she said. ‘This ain't about me princess. You weren't thinkin’ of me when you were grinding on me in front of the boys. You weren't thinking of me when you snuck off to the bathroom now where you-’ ‘You know about that?’ she panted. ‘I didn’t but I know my girl well evidently,’ he said, ‘which is why I know she’s gonna be sensitive as hell.’ ‘Oh fuck,’ she whimpered as Elvis flicked the button on the small vibrator again making the whirring noise increase throughout the room, joining Y/N’s rampant moans as she shuddered around his cock. It was killing him not to move. She felt like heaven around him but he had to stick to his plan. He could tell she was close. Her breaths were coming in little whimpers, her chest heaving in front of him. She looked astounding through the camera and he couldn't wait to watch this back alone in his hotel room.

‘Elvis please move,’ she whimpered, ‘I need it baby. Please I need your cum.’ ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Please,’ she said trying to push herself up though she was struggling due to her restraints. ‘Lay down mama. Don't make me spank ya again,’ he said. ‘Do it,’ she panted, ‘anything. I need more Elvis.’ ‘Feeling you around me I don’t think ya do,’ he said. She was near the edge, teetering over the precipice. ‘Oh Elvis, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,’ she panted, ‘gonna cum around you. Fuck, fuck, fu-’

Elvis couldn't believe his ears. They had just landed in LA after a weeks-long RV trip and not wanting to go to sleep just yet he had suggested they play some home movies they had taken on the road. He’d thumbed through a couple before selecting one and tossing it to Lamar before he headed to go and get changed, promising to be back quickly. He had thought he had picked one of them practising karate by the side of the road though as he came into the movie room he could hear the familiar whimpers of his wife, something he had been saving until he was alone.

‘What the hell are you watching!?’ he said as he clocked the projector and then the several stunned faces that whipped around at his presence. No one spoke.

‘I’m going to kill you,’ she said, ‘untie me!’ ‘Or what?’ ‘Elvis this isn’t funny untie me! Untie me now!’

Those words were enough to spur him into action as he leapt forward and tried to eject the tape from its player. It continued to play, Y/N’s playful cries emitting from the screen as she chastised him for bringing her to the brink of orgasm before pulling away leaving her barren of sensation or fullness as she came. It had been a memory just for him. And now every guy in the group had seen it as he failed to get it to stop.

‘Damnit!’ he said. ‘EP-’ Jerry said but it was too late. He hauled the machine off its table and onto the floor where it echoed a cracking thud against the carpet causing the picture to melt away from the screen behind him. When he looked up the guys seemed to be intent on looking anywhere but at him. ‘What the hell were you thinking!?’ he shouted, ‘y’all not think that this might not be the tape I asked for. Well?’

The room stayed silent causing Elvis’ rage to build quickly. Not only had they seen him and his wife in their most intimate moments they now had the cheek to ignore him in his own home.

‘Are ya gonna answer me or should I fire ya all right now?’ ‘Boss it was an accident,’ Lamar said. ‘Yeah you picked it,’ Sonny reminded him. ‘Oh, so it's my fault you guys can't keep your eyes to yourself. You knew that shit is private.’ ‘Looks like she aint too worried about privacy to me,’ Billy said attempting to make a joke though it didnt land well at all and Elvis’ piercing glare landed on him solely. ‘What did you just say,’ he said menacingly. ‘I’m just saying EP. You had to know it might get out at some point. Havin’ a girl like that,’ Billy said though he didnt back up his point any further. In fact, he seemed to notice by Elvis’ thunderous expression his choice of words had been extremely poor. ‘Like what? Are you calling my wife a whore?’ Elvis asked. Billy looked to Sonny for support but he refused to look at him.

‘Get out,’ Elvis said after a moment causing panic to fly around the room. ‘EP,’ Red said softly trying to talk Elvis down. ‘All of you. Get out. Now. Out of my god damn house!’ he said, grabbing stacks of home movies off of the table and launching them past Billy’s head where they hit the wall with a shattering crack. Then he stormed out of the room slamming the door with enough gusto to make the pictures on the wall rattle against it. Once he was out of the room silence fell until finally, Sonny resumed enough composure to smack Billy upside the head.

‘Well done Bill,’ he said. ‘What are you blaming me for?!’ Billy said rubbing his now sore spot behind his head. ‘A girl like that? What did you think he was going to do!?’ Red said. ‘Hey I didnt see any of you turning it off when it came on,’ Billy said, ‘hell Marty’s still sporting wood!’ ‘Am not!’ Marty protested though everyone noted the pillow that was now astride his lap. As arguments broke out amongst the group Jerry stood up.

‘HEY!’ he shouted causing everyone’s eyes to fall on him, ‘now this ain't going to get us anywhere. Whose fault and whatever and if he hears us bellyaching about it he’s gonna hit the roof. So everybody needs to shut the fuck up. Tidy this place up and just forget it ever happened.’ ‘Jerry’s right,’ Sonny said standing up beside his friend and throwing an arm arond him, ‘we need to clean this place up and move on okay?’ ‘Okay,’ a murmur of agreements echoed around the room. ‘Good,’ Jerry said. ‘Yeah,’ Sonny agreed, ‘but I am gonna say one thing.’ ‘What’s that Son?’ Jerry said looking at him. ‘If there’s one there’s more and I’m gonna find em,’ he said before he scampered off towards the scattered pile of tapes on the floor with a glint in his eye. The boys rolled their eyes though there was definitely a lingering glance here or there as Sonny rifled through.

#my writing #a girl like that #elvis #elvis presley #Elvis Presley Fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader fic #requested

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ricksanchezxmalereader · 2 years

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M/n: hey guys, sorry I wasn’t here for ricksgiving, but why did you guys blow up my phone begging me to come home?

Summer: oh god M/n it’s so bad

Rick: everyone get its M/n’s car

M/n: what

Morty: it would be better if we didn’t tell you

M/n: Rick, what’s going on???

Rick: just get back in the car m/n, and pleas for the love of god don’t go inside

M/n:…

M/n opens front door: *intense banging and moaning

M/n:…, wait, no, no, oh god no

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x male reader #x male reader #xmalereader #morty smith #inncorrect quotes #summer smith #beth smith #jerry smith #ricksgiving #space beth

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rawiswhore · 3 months

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Various WWF Wrestlers x Fem Reader- "Love Spanked"

Hopefully some of you won't be offended over this fanfic, but viewer discretion is advised.

_____________________________________________________________

In June of 1997, you invited some sexy male wrestlers to an arena where the seats were completely empty.

Those male wrestlers you invited were Shawn Michaels, Brian Pillman, RockaBilly and Tommy Rogers of the Fantastics.

You instructed those male wrestlers to stand in the front row in front of the ring, which they did, eagerly awaiting with smiles on their faces about what you were going to do.

All of those male wrestlers you invited had their long hair hanging down, although Brian's hair wasn't long enough to tie back into a ponytail.

Another wrestler you invited with you was Hunter Hearst Helmsley, who also had his long hair hanging down.

You and Hunter walked together into the ring, where you and he stood in front of the ropes near where Shawn, Brian, RockaBilly and Tommy were standing.

Hunter brought a folding chair with him, where he unfolded the chair when he was in front of the ropes closest to the front row and sat in the chair.

When Hunter had a seat, you laid down on Hunter's lap and knee on your stomach.

"Can you see me?" you asked to those male wrestlers in the audience.

"Yeah!" they all answered back, sometimes not in unison.

Some of them held their thumbs up to say they can see you.

Will they be able to see what's happening next?

One of Hunter's hands grabbed your miniskirt and pulled it up, where under your skirt was a thong buried in between your ass cheeks.

Hunter's other hand raised up and he began to repeatedly spank both of your ass cheeks with one hand.

His hand spanked both of your ass cheeks at the same time, not one by one.

Your ass was stinging and turning red as he spanked you, sometimes you even yelped when he spanked you.

He could spank you with anything else such as a paddle.

Was it necessary for him to pull your skirt up?

He can still spank you even when your ass cheeks are covered.

Brian, RockaBilly and Shawn were perking up, the 3 of them all had smiles on their faces and their eyes were growing wide seeing you getting spanked.

Those men were cheering and whistling at you getting spanked.

Brian and Shawn wish they could spank you, and eventually they have spanked you on television---so has RockaBilly when he eventually became Mr. Ass Billy Gunn.

You also wanted Tommy Rogers to spank you on ECW.

Some of those male wrestlers watching you could even pull their cocks out and masturbate to you.

Although, they'd probably prefer it if Sunny was being spanked since she was the WWF's most popular female sex symbol---not to mention was often a sex object.

They'd probably love it if you were the one spanking Sunny!

While it's awesome that they get to see you getting spanked in the ring, the ropes are somewhat blocking you getting spanked by Hunter and it's slightly difficult for those male wrestlers to see you get spanked.

If only you could've gotten spanked by Hunter in front of the front row, but not standing in the ring!

The reason you invited all of those wrestlers to watch you get spanked was because those male wrestlers were over the age of 30, and they're men over the age of 30 watching a young but legal woman getting spanked.

Bret Hart and Davey Boy Smith were handsome male wrestlers and they were over 40, Bret was even pushing 40 years old by the time the Attitude era was coming about, and they could've watched you get spanked as well.

Heh, Jerry Lawler could've seen you getting spanked considering he's a dirty old man that objectifies women---especially young women.

There are many male wrestlers you wish could watch you getting spanked such as Scott Hall and Leif Cassidy before he grew facial hair.

While you love Hunter very much and don't mind him spanking you, you wish other men could spank you.

You also wish there were more men in the audience seeing you get spanked, many of those men you want to watch you get spanked are actors like Bill Paxton and maybe even Don Johnson from "Miami Vice", John Ritter and male porn star Shawn Ricks.

There are men of all ages that fill up the WWF's audience, and they'd love to see you get spanked in the ring.

Their wish eventually came true because you did often get spanked in the ring on television.

______________________________________________________________

This fanfiction was inspired by an episode of the Internet cartoon "The God and Devil Show" where Britney Spears is sent to hell, and because she was dressed as a naughty schoolgirl, the Devil dressed as a nun spanks her with a paddle and dirty old men (and Christina Aguilera) watch her.

That episode was made before Britney's "Oops! I Did It Again" came out, before she danced with a snake and kissed Madonna.

#hunter hearst helmsley #wwf #shawn michaels #brian pillman #rockabilly #tommy rogers

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 year

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A Sheep Farm on the Moon Ch2 Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter 2 – The Sheep

Masterlist I <- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter -> Minors/under 18s DNI

Summary:

After being left hanging you are furious at Joel Miller, and after a humiating incident with the Ram, you start to question why you are feeling so many things for this complete stranger and his ragged child.

Your alarm wakes you with a start, your head pounding with dehydration from crying, and in some small part due to the drink. Your mouth is like sandpaper and you realise you had slept where you fell last night, face pressed into the sheets. You were stiff and sore from yesterday’s shearing and now only running on about 3 hours of terrible sleep. Regret. Regret is all you can feel as you try to convince yourself to get up and turn off the angry digital alarm clock on your dresser.

Shameful, what would your momma think of you now?

You chastise yourself as you drag yourself up from the heap on the bed. Your hand slaps the digital alarm violently and you sigh, it was going to be a long day.

***

You trudge through town, your boots crunching loudly on the compact snow, everything was too loud. You had managed just enough time to wait for the coffee to brew but the hot liquid had burnt your tongue as you tried to down it before heading to tend to the sheep.

Unless you were posted on patrol, there was no official start time in Jackson, people got on with things as and when they needed to, but you swear the sheep know. They know the time better than any watch smith, and they would let you know it if you were late for their feed.

True to form, you strolled across the main yard, distracted by your burnt tongue, you heard it before you saw it. You couldn’t have been more than five minutes “late” but you weren’t early, and the ram of the flock took that personally. He smashed through the closed gate, having jostled the latch from its loose mechanism. You really needed to get someone to tighten that. But it was just another task added to the seemingly never-ending list of chores that shepherding came with.

“Son of a bitch,” You swear as you sprint towards the now escaping sheep, “Ramsey you bastard!” You holler at the ram and you are certain he gives you a look as he bleats to his harem of ewes and bolts off towards the horse paddock. Your head is already pounding from the night before, your tongue hurts, and you’re emotionally exhausted, but the idiot ram needed you. The ewes stay where they are, probably because it’s warm under the heat lamps and cold as all hell out here.

You had to keep Ramsey safe, he was your only Ram and without him lambing season could be a disaster. It is the exact right time when he’d start trying it on with the ewes, it’s probably why he’s so antsy, he’s drunk on hormones.

If he got out of Jackson it could really harm the flock. At least the ewes had more sense than him.

You swallow as you try not to panic, you collect yourself as you formulate a plan.

“Hey Benny!” You call to the young man on the other side of the sheep pen who looks up to you in surprise, “You know where Jerry is? I need to borrow his dog.”

“No sweat Boss Lady, I’ll get Typhus over here asap!” Benny calls back, already jogging off as he spoke. You envy the clearly well-rested kid as he sprang off into a jog, a clear contrast with you as your work-weary, hungover body groaned at every movement. You close the gate on the remaining sheep, who had still not moved. “Good girls, smart move,” You coo at the sheep, but they pay you no mind.

“This is why I wanted to work with computers, less running around like an idiot and way more sitting down in a warm room, with real coffee.” You hiss under your breath as you break into a slow jog. As long as Ramsay stayed in the farmyard you could round him up pretty easily, even more so if Typhus was at your side. But Jerry was old, and liked to lie in on his days off, so you hope you don’t need to rely on him.

“Hey, you need a hand?” A young voice startles you from behind and you turn to see Ellie’s bright face, eager and excited at the commotion. You look around, no Joel. Relief and disappointment well up inside you as you try and put the man out of your mind.

“You ever wrangled sheep before kid?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope.”

“Alright, come with me.” You laugh and jog off towards the hog sty. She kept up with you without a problem and all the way you could see her looking up at you, as if she was studying your ruddy, exhausted profile with glee. You slow as you see Ramsey looking triumphant as he butted against the pig pen’s gate.

“Right, we need to try and calmly guide him back to his shed.” You explain to Ellie softly as you begin to walk, so very slowly, towards the Ram.

“Uh, he doesn’t look fucking calm.” Ellie swore as she eyed the ram, her usual confident bravado a little muted. You couldn’t help but agree, Ramsey had been a pain in your ass ever since you came to Jackson. Rumour was the last shepherd gave up and moved away due to the ram’s shenanigans. You always thought that was an exaggeration, but now you weren’t so sure.

“No, he’s a bastard,” You chuckle, “But he’s a sweetheart when he gets his way.” You explain as you pull out a bundle of fresh hay from the nearby hay nets that hung on the stables. You slowly approach the ram, his bleating loud in your tender ears as you offer your hand out to the large mammal.

Ramsey eyes you as you try to bribe him with fresh hay, he’s got to be hungry, that’s part of his tantrum, you’re sure. But at the last minute you see his front right hoof paw the ground angrily.

“Ellie, move!” You cry as Ramsey charges, he’s going full tilt at you and you stand your ground until you can see the steam coming from his nostrils. You throw yourself up onto the wall of the closest stable, earning an irritated snort from Jessie, the chestnut horse you loved dearly, but the feeling was not mutual. Ramsey thudded against an old wooden pallet and bleated pathetically as his curled horns got stuck between the slats.

“Sorry girl.” You apologise to the horse as she snaps angrily at you with her teeth. You smile and turn to the mewling bleats of the rebellious ram who was now stuck with a pallet on his head.

“Ramsey, you couldn’t wait five minutes?” You scold the sheep as you grab him by the base of the horns, slowly, firmly moving his head to and fro as you manoeuvre him out of the wooden slats. Ramsey brayed beneath you as you helped him but once he was free he tried to writhe in your grasp but you were wise to his antics.

“Calm down you little shit.” You scold him as you use all the strength you have to manoeuvre him back towards the sheep shed.

“You got him!” Ellie exclaimed and you jumped, almost losing your grin on the ram, you look up to see Ellie sat on the fence to your right.

“Jesus, kid, you startled me.” You snap.

“Woah sorry lady I would have helped but you told me to move.” Ellie shrugged, her legs swinging playfully as she spoke. You huffed in response but couldn’t help but smile at the guts on the kid. You began the long task of steering the moody ram towards his gate.

“So, was Joel with you last night?” Ellie asked and it was like a slap to the face. This time you did let go of Ramsey and he turned his head violently, hitting you in the stomach, throwing you, as he ran off past the gate, towards the Main Street. You lay on your back for a moment as the throbbing subsided, the wind ripped from your lungs as the strong horns hit you.

“Shit are you ok?” Ellie ran to you, already kneeling in the snow next to you as you tried to recover from the hit. You were sure at least one of your ribs were broken, the pain from breathing was so acute it almost made you pass out.

“Ellie?” Joel’s voice cut across the yard as you tried to respond that, no, you are not ok. But the embarrassment of Joel seeing you like this was mortifying, combined with the fact every time you tried to speak the pain almost made you pass out.

“Over here, sheep lady’s hurt.”

“She has a name Ellie,” Joel chastised her as he faltered, realising that yet again, he didn’t know it, “You ok Darlin’?” The drawl of his Texan accent somehow thicker as he adopted a caring tone of voice. His face came to join Ellie’s as you looked up into the sky. He looked tired, haggard, like he hadn’t slept.

Good.

You thought a little bitterly as you tried not to cry out in pain as every breath shot pain through your left side. Your vision swims but you try and remain conscious as the pain swells up again as you cough.

“Just peachy, no thanks to you.” You hiss as the pain threatens to make you throw up.

“Fair,” Joel’s handsome features twisted up into a grimace, “Can you move?” He asked attentively as Ellie just looked between the two of you knowingly. She smiled but for once didn’t pipe up as you wheezed in pain.

“No sir, I think I’ve got a broken rib.” You admit as you close your eyes, frustration driving you to tears as you try not to let the incident get to you.

“Damn that’s no good Darlin’ you stay awake with me ok?.” He responds with a breathy sigh. In your delirious state you almost thought you felt him cup your cheek as he spoke to you again but this time you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

The pain rips through you as you feel yourself being picked up from the ground. The noise you make is animalistic as the pain becomes too much and you’re taken under, an off switch in your brain flipping as you pass out.

***

You wake to the sound of people fussing around you, the smell of lavender and rosemary thick in the air. You crack your eyes open slowly, the familiar roof of the doctor’s upstairs exam room coming into view.

“You’re awake!” Gordon Holm’s voice lilts across the room as you tried to sit, “No, stay down, your rib is in a bad way.” He commanded in his watery voice. Gordon had been a doctor before the end of the world, only around two years left before he had planned to retire. He was old.

“What’s going on?” You ask, your voice hoarse and broken.

“You’ve likely got as bruised or fractured rib, but nothing more serious, your ribs are in the right place, and you’ve got no signs of internal bleeding.” Dr Holm’s voice rattled through his teeth.

“Damn it I have so much more to do with the sheep before Spring hits.” You groan, rolling onto your good rib, propping yourself up to swing your legs over the side of the bed with a barely stifled groan. You eased yourself up and began to hobble out of the second floor exam room. The pain was blinding, but you had too much to do, and you had too much to block out of your mind to stop being busy.

Fucking whisky, Fucking Joel, Fucking Ellie, Fucking Ram.

You curse as you hear a disapproving grunt from behind you, you had almost made it to the door before he had noticed you. You turn with an apologetic smile and wait for your scolding.

“Good God above girl,” Dr Holm sighs in despair, knowing he can’t stop you, “If you’re just going to leave before I’m finished, make sure to ice it frequently for the next few days then do the same with a hot water bottle twice a day for the next few weeks after that. Please just make sure you take it easy, and here,” He threw a bag of cannabis at you and you raised an eyebrow, “To help you sleep, and to ease the pain, but don’t go shearing and smoking. Preferably I’d have you doing no shearing at all.”

“Alright doc,” You shrug, the scarcity of opioids post-apocalypse meant Jackson had to be creative with their pain medication, “I promise not to give it to the school kids either.” You jest but the look on Gordon’s face was murderous as you knew you’d pushed the old man too far. You hobble down the stairs, fleeing his wrath, leaning against the narrow walkway as you limp down to the ground floor, the reception was empty, figures, it was probably still too early for normal practice hours.

The cold air sent shockwaves through your chest, ripping a snarl from your mouth as the injured rib rocked on the exhale. You continued on, too proud, too stubborn to let pain stop you. The trudge back to the sheep shed seemed to last forever as every step brought fresh pain. But soon enough you were back in the shed, on your chair, trying to muster the energy to shear. Ramsey looked at you from the other end of the shed, you could swear he looked guilty, if that was even possible.

“It’s ok Rams,” You coo to him, “I shouldn’t have been late.” The Ram huffed at you and settled down to sleep amongst his ewes. You sigh as you put your hands in your pockets, the bag of weed crinkling as your hand brushes it. You haven’t smoked since you were in the QZ, and didn’t really enjoy it back then, but you knew from the way the pain shot through you just sitting down meant you wouldn’t be able to shear.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Tommy’s voice calls from the gate, leaning over it just as Joel had last night.

“Hey Tommy, you here to chew me out? Who sent you, the doc?”

“Surprisingly not, Joel did.” He shrugs, but there’s a knowing look on his face as he locked eyes with yours.

“That is a surprise,” You snap, the pain driving your temper up, “Tell him to mind his own damned business.”

“I did, but he never listens to me, or anyone for that matter. I thought it best find you before he does and give you fair warnin’,” Tommy chuckles but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “What went on with you two last night? He’s been in a sour mood,” He paused, this time the smile did reach his eyes, “Well, more sour than normal all morning.”

“Nothing.” It wasn’t a lie, you wanted to laugh along with Tommy, but the venom in your tone told Tommy that Joel had indeed, fucked up.

“Well, I tried,” Tommy shrugged, throwing you a sympathetic grimace, “My brother is stubborn though, so don’t blame me if he comes a’calling to march you off to bed.”

“Roger that Boss Man, thanks for checking in on me though.” You say, a little guilty for taking out your frustration on the wrong brother. He smiled at the nickname you had given him on the first week of your patrol training.

“It’s alright, you’re important round here y’know, look after yourself.” Tommy orders you with a playful shake of his finger and headed off into town. You liked Tommy, a lot, he was one of the few people who gave you the time of day, and he always seemed to be truly listening to the people he spoke too. It baffled you how different he and his older brother were.

You battled with your deep-rooted stubbornness and injured pride for a few minutes before giving in and heading back home, calling out to a farmhand on the way to take over for a few days. He made no complaint and wished you well. But you were really too damned tired and in too much pain to care.

I’m never drinking again.

You vow, knowing it was a lie, but it made you feel a little better. You frown as you reach the top step of your porch, a bottle of moonshine with a hand written note, and a bundle of herbs sat at your door. You pick up the note with a hiss as the pivoting movement irritates your ribs, it has your name on it in shaky handwriting. You pick up the whisky and herbs before heading inside.

You deposit the bottle on the kitchen counter before putting on a pot of coffee and grabbing some of the cookies Layla, the school mistress, had dropped off recently, the ancient tin opened with a pop and the sudden movement had you bent over the counter in agony. You focus on the aged and deteriorated image on the tin to focus, it once had a print of a castle somewhere in Scotland and you could still just make out of the silhouette amongst the bare metal.

It takes you a few minutes to recover, but you head to the sofa with a large cup of strong black coffee in one hand, the letter and the bundle of herbs in the other and two sugar cookies stuffed in your mouth. As you sit you lift the neatly tied collection of herbs to your nose, the sweetness of the cookies and the fresh scent of the herbs a lovely combination. It’s immediately calming as you take in the notes of lavender, pine, rosemary and something earthy you couldn’t quite place. After a few seconds of huffing the delightful collection of scents you decide to look at the letter. It was a simple page folded in three and you smile from the moment your eyes read the scruffily written line below your name.

Hi there, Ellie here!

I wanted to apologise to ewe for being so woolly today and getting you hurt. I feel so baa’d about it and hope you forgive me and this doesn’t put a permanent (sheep)dip in our friendship.

If you need anything while we’re here let me know and I’ll get Joel to do it.

So yeah, be seeing you.

Ellie x

P.S I don’t know what you said to Joel last night, but he was SMILING, actual real life face contortion in a good way! I don’t know what you said to him but I have only seen him smile like twice, ever, and one of them was after I made a killer diarrhoea joke. But yeah, I like it when he smiles, so if you could make him do it more I’d owe you one.

The sheep puns had you smiling so hard your rib twinged in pain, you were a little disappointed it wasn’t some soppy apology from Joel, but he didn’t seem the type to apologise, full stop, let alone with any soppiness. You sip slowly on the coffee as you re-read the letter. She was gruff and unrefined, but she was funny, and kind.

Definitely not his bio kid.

You think, feeling only a little guilt in being so harsh on the man, he’s clearly been through a lot and is in the middle of something complex with Ellie. But then everyone has history, everyone has baggage, he doesn’t deserve your undue kindness. He certainly wasn’t giving you any. But then you re-read Ellie’s words and you can feel the emotion in her writing, she cares deeply about Joel. Maybe he wasn’t a complete asshole after all, how can such a bright, vibrant kid care for him if there wasn’t another side to him.

Stockholm syndrome I guess?

You smirk, knowing that you were being unfair, but he deserved it, even if only for now.

He came home smiling, because of you.

You re-read Ellie’s note a few more times, draining your coffee as you do, you hobble back up to the kitchen and start another pot of coffee, still reading the note. You pick up your refilled mug and carefully place the note in your pocket.

The crinkle of the small plastic pouch of weed against your hand as you pocketed the note made you finally consider the pain relief it would bring. But you realise you have no papers, and bongs were few and far between even before the end of the world in this part of the world. Christian values and all that. You roll your eyes at the thought but then smirk, you have an idea.

***

You had been rifling through the attic for half an hour until you found exactly what you were looking for, a battered old copy of the King James Bible. It had been in the nightstand drawer when you moved in, but you weren’t religious anymore and didn’t see yourself going back any time soon.

You ease yourself back down the built in ladder that led down to the first floor of your house and don’t bother putting it back now, it hurt enough getting it down in the first place. You head to the kitchen counter, the page that falls open is from the book of Esther and you smile at the memories of being read this by your mother many years ago. It almost seems too good to rip out from this part, so you flick forward to the next book, Job.

Yes, that seems morbidly appropriate.

You tear out a few pages and place them on the counter, trying to remember how to roll a joint as you heard a sharp knock at the front door. You consider ignoring it as you stare back somewhat guiltily at the make-shift, blasphemous, rolling papers. But the sharp knocking on the door persists and you sigh, you would stomp over to the front door if the pain wasn’t so intense, so you limp, bitterly.

“What?” You snap as you pull the door open and look up into the dark eyes of Joel Miller. You try not to gasp at the sight of him, both because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but also because you knew how much that would hurt your ribs.

“What yourself.” He grumbles, his hands behind his back as he tried not to fidget. He was sweating in the cold mid-Winter air as he tried to collect his thoughts. You realise you’re smiling, he’s cute when he’s nervous.

“I didn’t expect you at my door.” You roll your eyes, the pain fuelling your irritation, but you were almost beginning to soften up to him. Almost.

“I just wanted to apologise for last night.”

“Stop.” You sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose, impatience and pain grating on your already short fuse.

“You didn’t even let me speak.” Joel protests as his eyes meet yours as he stepped forward before stopping himself, one foot on the bottom step. He was so quick to anger, quick to act.

“Do you think I really need to hear some half-baked excuse about wandering the wastes, finding trouble at every turn, and how life has made you hard?” You blurt, unable to hold yourself back.

“That wasn’t-” Joel fumbled, caught in the pre-rehearsed speech he had prepared. He wasn’t good at this, apologising.

“Just stop, leave me alone.” Your tone is biting, and shame and anger on full display as you lean against the doorframe, the cold air sapping your strength as you shudder, the shiver sent agony through your ribs. A cry erupts from your lips as you slip from the doorframe, you don’t remember falling but you blink and you are on your knees, side searing from the pain of the impact.

“Shit you alright Darlin’?” Joel’s voice is in your ear, his one hand on the crook of your elbow. You hate yourself for the burst of warmth that is spreading to your thighs at the hot breath on your cheek, his warm scent washing over you in waves of sawdust, lavender from the soap he used, and a warm scent you couldn’t place underpinning it all like a lacquer.

“No,” You give up as you fall against him, “Just get me inside and leave me alone.” You whimper as the painful but somehow exciting act of him pulling yourself up into his arms is too much to bear and tears run down your cheeks. You look away from him, not sure if the sound that came out of your mouth was pain or pleasure, maybe both. He helps you stand but doesn’t let you go, his one arm on the crook of your allow the whole time.

“Yes ma’am.” He says eagerly, he steers you to the kitchen, kicking the front door closed with his boot as he sets you down and guides you towards the countertop. Your heart catches in your throat as the poorly rolled first joint sat in front of you on the counter.

“This isn’t-” You panic, the fear of being caught smoking was deep rooted, and long redundant, but it was strong enough to make you blush. Joel moves around you, his interest piqued, you watch in horror as he eyes the half-rolled failure of a joint on the counter. He turns his head slowly with a mischievous look on his face as he catches your gaze over his shoulder, the perfect profile of his face silhouetted by the sunlight that shines through the window. It makes your knees weak seeing him smile, even if it was at your expense.

“So, you’ve never rolled your own joints?” Joel chuckles, he’s caught off-guard at the nostalgia rolling gave him and at the embarrassed look on your face as he called you out. His eyes are fixed on yours, his lips parting slightly as he notices the look you’re giving him.

“No,” You say abruptly, “I’ve never been a big fan, but the doc gave it to me for the pain.”

“And,” He starts, crossing his arms across his chest as he turns to face you, leaning back against the counter, “Have you started on the prescribed pain relief?” He asked knowingly, and in what you assumed was his dad voice coming out, as you blush at the gentle teasing. He was enjoying himself and that managed to both piss you off and turn you on all at the same time.

Fucking hell Miller, what have you done to me?

“You know I haven’t,” You say, “But I probably should.” You admit before looking up into his warm brown eyes, they shine with amusement as you glare right up at him, which only made the creases at the edges of his eyes deepen as his smile widens.

He’s enjoying this too much.

He stands there waiting for you to ask the question, not letting this go it seemed. You pout, but the pain in your side was becoming unbearable and no matter what, you needed to get at least one of those joints rolled.

“Joel, can you roll me a joint?” You ask, not breaking eye contact, your mouth set in a firm line.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He said, his face awash with a triumphant grin.

***

The evening sunshine bathed Jackson in a hazy amber glow as you sit on the small wooden bench in your back yard, Joel had rolled you four joints, one a little bigger than the other, which you held as you waited for him to come out of the house. The back door closed with a bang and you hear him swear under his breath. He descended the steps with a cup of coffee in each hand. You turn to watch him, his brow knitted as he continues over to you on the bench.

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so went with black.”

“Good choice.” You nod, taking the cup carefully in both hands, trying not to jostle your ribs, it felt good to be sat down, not worrying about the sheep, just sitting still, relaxing.

“So, the Book of Job?” Joel asks after taking a long sip of the coffee, his eyes looking out over the square yard. In the Spring it was full of flower beds full of wildflowers, hydrangea bushes, and the lone cherry tree in the middle would bloom with coral and magenta blossoms. But now it was all covered in a thick blanket of snow. Formless, shapeless.

“I had opened up to the book of Esther but didn’t fancy spiting a strong woman like that. Instead, I took a leaf out of God’s book and chose to spite Job instead.” Joel nearly choked on the large mouthful of coffee he had in his mouth. You try to contain your laughter as you take pride in catching him off guard so violently.

“Christ, Darlin’, don’t make a man laugh like that when he’s got hot coffee in his mouth.” He laughs, wiping a few rivulets of coffee from his chin and whiskers as he looks at you with a wicked, playfully scolding smile.

“Didn’t realise I was funny.” You shrug before taking a long gulp of coffee, the warm liquid travelling down your throat blissfully as you hold the joint in your hand out to Joel. You look up at him and you feel like you were back in the QZ, a dumb sixteen-year-old getting the older boy in your shared accommodation to show you how to smoke. Joel just raised an eyebrow at you, making you ask the question.

“Fucking hell Joel, isn’t it enough that I have a bruised rib, do you have to torture me psychologically too?” You grumble, the embarrassment sitting high on your cheeks as you see his body relax a little.

“Alright Darlin’ I’m sorry you’re just adorable when you get so flustered.” He admits, his smile softening as he took the joint from your hand, his bare fingertips brushing against your skin, making you shudder. You think you feel him react too, but he doesn’t stop as he licks his lips, his thick, strong tongue gliding delightfully between them. He pops the joint on his bottom lip before pulling a silver flip lighter out of his pocket. The silver lighter engraved with a stylised, blocky serpent’s head, a frill of feathers ringing its neck.

“I ain’t your Darlin’ pal.” You grumble, but you can’t help thinking about the fact he just called you adorable. You knew it was a Texan thing to call every woman some form of Darling but you were still mad at him for going cold on you last night. Any other day, any other time, it would have turned you to mush.

“Yes ma’am.” He said with a smirk, his mood much better than the night before. You try not to let the notion go to your head. He struck the flint once, the flame flickering softly in the cool evening breeze. He twirled the joint between his fingers as he held it over the open flame, starting it as evenly as possible. The familiar closing click of the lighter brought a melancholy smile to your face.

He’s probably just not that into you, he’s being kind. Just let him have a smoke with you and let it go.

“That a real Zippo?” You ask as he takes in the first drag on the joint, watching the way he breathes it in, trying to take mental notes for when you do it.

“How’d you know?” Joel asks as he breathes out the cloud of smoke from his lungs, looking at you with a smile as he hands you the now subtly smouldering joint. You roll it between your thumb and forefinger, trying to find a reason not to.

“Dad used to like Zippos, got real angry if you called a flip lighter a Zippo, he always used to explain the difference.” You ramble a little, trying to work up the courage to smoke the joint.

“Your dad had some strong opinions,” Joel coughed a little before continuing, “so is this real?” He looked at the joint then up to your eyes pointedly.

“I’m not sure,” You admit your mind was too focused on other things to care, “Probably not, I don’t recognise the design.” You prop the joint between your trembling lips and after a calming breath out, you inhale as evenly as possible as you taste it on your still-burnt tongue, mossy, sweet, herbal, and earthy. The taste of cannabis smoke not a good, nor a bad thing, just odd. You exhale and the sensation tickles at the back of your throat, but you don’t cough, thank the lord. The smoke snakes into the air like a river meeting an inky, black ocean. You hand the joint back to Joel and stare up into the diamond studded sky.

Thanks Job.

You think sardonically, as the biggest hurdle seemed to be over, you didn’t break into a coughing fit like all those years ago in the QZ, you smile as you feel the high already settling over you, you felt a little more able to move, a little more able to tolerate the pain when it did come.

“Fuck the doc grows some good shit.” Joel breathed out as he took a longer, more concentrated pull on the joint. You half-laugh, half-sigh as you realise he tricked you into showing you how to take a safer, more manageable hit the first time around because now, a verifiable waterfall of smoke leaves his lips, some of it curling down around his lips and chin. The effect mesmerising.

“I wouldn’t know.” You giggle still building up on the high, it didn’t feel like you were ever coming back down.

“I’m sorry about last night da-“ he paused, trying to replace the endearing term with your name, but you still hadn’t given it to him. You were surprised, assuming he would have heard it from Tommy.

“Tommy didn’t even tell you my name?” You ask already feeling so much better, so little pain, but you were floating and that was too much to bear at times. You accept the joint from him and took one last puff, smaller again than before, but you didn’t want to be completely out of your mind. Joel didn’t reach for it this time, and something told you that putting it out was the best move. You stick it in the snow that had accumulated to your left and realise that might have ruined the joint for the next time. But you didn’t care, not really.

“Well, I said you hadn’t given it, and that we had that, moment, and the pendejo chewed me out for hours, and said I didn’t deserve your name if you hadn’t given it to me, he’s super protective of you, you know?” Joel half-admitted, half-rambled as he drifted in orbit with you.

“Oh, really?” You muse, the thought of Tommy, or anyone really, caring about you for more than your worth to the community was an alien feeling. You always keep to yourself, you’re polite and kind for sure, but you never really felt like Jackson was home.

“Maria too, you’re really well regarded here…” He trailed off before speaking again, “Please, let me know what your name is D-.” He winced as he realised he used the D work again. You smile, maybe it was the weed, maybe it was that you were feeling way too many things for this gruff man, but you feel content. You scoot closer to him, it was bold and brash but that didn’t matter right now.

“You really want to know my name?” You ask as you lean against the back of the bench where his arm was draped. You were both rising high now, carefree, any awkwardness dissolved.

“Only if you think I’m worthy.” His tone was playful but you could hear a hint of sincerity behind it all. You hum to yourself, a small part of your mind willing you to forgive him, that part of your mind was all too eager to know what his mouth tasted like. You giggle at your dirty mind before refocusing on the handsome, kind, asshole of a man next to you.

“Alright.” You whisper, the cannabis making you bold as you cup his chip with the index finger and thumb of your right hand, the contact making you both shudder. You coax him, trying not to twist to hurt your left side, drawing his head down to your shoulder so his left ear was level with your lips. As he leans in, pliable in your hand, you whisper your name to him and he hums almost in approval. He pulls back slowly and looks down at you with hazy eyes. He tests your name aloud and warmth floods through you as he says it aloud in the cooling night air.

“About the other night,” Joel sighs as his rough, calloused hand brushes up to your cheek, his thumb rubbing on your cheekbone right over the ragged white scar from childhood. You freeze and the warmth of arousal spreads to your belly, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He whispers, his eyes locked with yours as you melt into the palm of his hand.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” You agree breathily, “You shouldn’t have just kissed me, you shouldn’t have stopped there.” He hisses your name as his head drops, his forehead meeting yours.

“Why’d you have to be so stubborn, so goddamn beautiful?” Joel asks you softly, as he drops his head to the crook of your neck. His hot breath washes over you as he breathes you in, out, in, out. Two weed-addled fools fumbling as if you were both carefree, reckless teenagers again.

“Fuck you Miller, no need to mock me.” His head snapped up at that and suddenly his hands were on your shoulders, his eyes boring into yours.

“Don’t do that, don’t ever sell yourself short.” He breathes, your noses almost touching as he spoke. You shrug, not really knowing what to say but your mouth opens regardless.

“Just, no-one has called me that other than my mother.” You admit, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, too many emotions being boosted by the high, too much going on in your mind to manage or process.

“Why ever not?” Joel breathes as he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hands are still possessive on your shoulders as he lingers there, waiting for an answer.

“Have you been able to call anything beautiful in this world?” You turn your head, your lip catching the edge of his bottom lip as you speak, you still hadn’t kissed yet, but the fire that burned in your belly was raging as you tried not to pant at the arousal you felt.

“No,” He admitted, but continued, “It’s been a good while, but I know it when I see it.” He tilted his head a little further, the press of your lips on his was so brief, so partial, that your breath hitched in your throat. You wince, the pain in your ribs was far more tolerable under the influence of cannabis, which was a welcome reprieve.

“Joel, you don’t have to do this.” You whisper to him, giving him an out before things hit the point of no return.

“Uh-huh, I know,” He whispers your name against the corner of your mouth and you melt, “I want to do this.” He whispered against your skin before he turned his head to meet yours, the hot, firm press of his lips on yours was explosive. His one hand moved to your cheek, the other to the nape of your neck. Holding you to him as he finally let go of whatever it was that held him back before.

His lips were warm, hungry against yours. He pressed his thick, hot tongue against your lips and without hesitation you gasped, letting him in as he groaned into your mouth. His tongue probed your open mouth, it was warm, hot and forceful as he held you to him. Your hands move to his thick curls and you tangle your digits in them, a slight protest to your left side making you wince, but you pull yourself closer to him. He purrs audibly at the sensation and deepens the kiss, his long tongue lapping you up as you squirm for him. Your tongue still hurts from the burn earlier but you didn’t care, this was worth it.

“Hey,” He breathes as he pulls away, “This is going to get out of hand if we don’t cut it out.”

“So?” You practically whine as you try and pull his lips back to yours but at that moment you twist in a way that makes you see stars, the weed unable to numb the pain surging from your side.

“Fuck.” You huff, realising he was right.

“See, this is what I was worried about, let’s get you to bed.” He says softly as he stands up and offers you his arm. You take it and allow him to steer you up to your room, he raises an eye at the still-deployed ladder to the attic but you just shrug it off. You hesitate at your door and steal a look up into his dark, cannabis-softened eyes.

“Stay.” You beg him, sex or not, you wanted to feel him tonight, have him keep you warm with his strong, muscular arms.

“I can’t, you know that,” He breathed but he was clearly considering it, staying with you, “But I’ll be by tomorrow, I promise.” He places a small kiss on your lips, eliciting a mewl from you. The last remaining blood in his head shot straight to his cock but he resisted, just.

“Goodnight, sleep well and I’ll be by tomorrow.” He promised, almost repeating it like a mantra so he couldn’t go back on it. His head was full of thoughts of how you felt, how you tasted, but he had to be good, you were hurt, he wasn’t here to hurt you. He’d already done that and it was one of the biggest regrets in his life.

“Alright.” You sigh as you watch him leave. You limp into bed, properly this time, and fall asleep between the sheets to images of Joel’s firm mouth on yours, the heat that pooled inside you, and the soft groans he made when he thought you couldn’t hear. The other places you wanted him to firmly place his mouth.

***

You were sitting on the sofa, a dog eared copy of your favourite book in one hand, and a cup of mint tea in the other, lost in the story that you could probably recite word for word, but it didn’t stop you re-reading it once again. The knock at the door startled you, and you put the book down before hobbling eagerly, hoping it was Joel making good on his promise. You were right, sort of. You hear Ellie before the door is fully open, calling out your name as she beams up at you, Joel her ever-present shadow at her back.

“Hey there Ellie, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, keeping your eyes off Joel as long as you could, you want Ellie to feel valued, in a way you often weren’t as a young woman.

“Joel said we could come round and check in on you!” She said with bright eyes, the smile on her face infectious.

“Of course, I’m not really doing much until this rib is healed so the company is appreciated, come on in, both of you.” You slowly swing the door wide, careful to not jostle your side. Ellie charged in like a whirlwind and took in every corner of your house.

“Wow that’s badass!” You hear her call from the living room, you guess it must be your Winchester hanging above the fireplace. The antique was beautiful and one of the few things you still had of your father’s.

“Sorry, I mentioned I was stopping by and she, well, she isn’t one to take no for an answer.” Joel says as he places his palm on the small of your back. The touch is soothing, gentle, but the warm stir of arousal still shudders between your legs as you look up into his handsome face.

“Honestly, it’s really nice to have her here,” You admit, mirroring Joel’s actions as you tuck your hand into the back of his jeans, “Besides, you both make me smile.”

“I’m glad, because I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep her away,” He chuckled before bending his head down to your neck, “I don’t think I could keep myself away either, not after kissing you properly.” You shiver and he grins at your reaction, getting exactly what he wanted, you realise and blush harder.

“Come on, I’ve got loads of stuff in the attic we can pull down for her to rifle through.” You head up the stairs together, the attic ladder still lowered from the previous day. You crawl up after Joel and soon you’re managing both him and Ellie, who couldn’t not be involved, to take down box after box of the junk you stored in your attic.

As Ellie took the last box, labelled music, you turn to make a shaky descent but Joel cut you off at the top of the ladder. The sound of Ellie rummaging with excited gasps clear from the ground floor of the house. He stands there for a moment, looking over his shoulder to make sure Ellie was preoccupied.

“Hey there,” He drawls as he crosses the short distance between you and his mouth is on yours, gently this time, mouths closed, emotional rather than carnal. He holds your face in both of his large hands, and breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, “I missed you.”

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours Joel Miller, how could you possibly have missed me already?” You tease, knowing exactly how because you hadn’t stopped thinking about him from the moment your eyes opened this morning.

“Because I haven’t needed to see someone, to touch someone, to just be around someone so desperately for over twenty years.” He breathes against your lips, his eyes ablaze as he drinks in the sight of your wide, tear filled eyes.

“Joel,” You breathe back as you try not to sob with joy, “I have never felt like this, it’s maddening and I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page.” He murmurs before pulling you gently against him, his lips finding yours as he pressed his hot tongue against the seam of your lips. You deny him for a second or more until his growl ripples across your lips. His eyes open to meet yours and the desire is etched into those dark, threatening depths. His tongue darts back into his mouth as it presses into a hard line.

“That’s for going cold on me Miller,” You whisper as you kiss him once more, taking his lower lip between your teeth, “Don’t go cold on me again.” You breathe into his soft lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He kissed you hard again, his tongue forceful this time but you were like putty in his hands, pliable and desperate to feel him explore your mouth with his large tongue. You whimper against him as his one hand falls to your collarbone, rubbing a calloused hand over the thin, sensitive skin. The other hand is on your ass, kneading gently as he deepens the kiss.

“Ew Gross.” Ellie’s voice calls out from the top of the ladder. You split apart in an instant, the sudden movement ripped through your side, causing you to curse under your breath.

“Christ Ellie, what are you doing up here?” Joel scolds her as he tries to straighten himself out.

“You guys were taking for-ever,” She huffed but she was smiling as she sassed you both, “But I see it was for good reason.”

“Ellie, I-“ You start but she interrupts you.

“If you two making out makes him happy,” She nods towards Joel, “Then I won’t stop ya, but hurry up I’ve found a book the size of my head!” She trilled before descending the ladder once more.

“That could have gone a lot worse.” Joel sighs, releasing a tense breath he had been holding the whole time Ellie was speaking.

“I think it went pretty well, it’s good my rib is fucked, we might not have been caught in such a modest embrace if I was fighting fit.” You wink at Joel and the flush across his tan skin is barely visible but you hear his breathing hitch as you spoke.

“Downstairs, now.” He orders, his tone serious but the fire that danced behind his eyes was anything but.

“Alright,” You lean up for one last chase kiss, “But once I’m fighting fit, we’re going to make up for the lost time.”

“Yes ma’am.” He mumbles into your lips as he returns the kiss, just a little harder before releasing you.

“Shall we?” You ask as your head spins with excitement. Joel nods and gestures to the attic hatch.

“Lead the way.”

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