#Rick and morty fanfiction

[star-girl-05]

Follow Me

Rick Sanchez x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

Morty was the first to notice, followed by Summer who then told everyone else. After she told everyone, the next dinner they all subtly stared at Rick and you. Of course Rick notices all their looks but decides to ignore it, not in the mood to deal with whatever is bothering them this week. 

He continues to eat his meal, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand when he’s finished. He pushes his dish forward, grabbing your hand. Not even bothering to look to see if you're finished. Just leading you away from the table and towards the garage, and you just follow him dropping your fork. 

They watch the two of you walk away, Summer only speaks up when she hears the click of the garage door shut. “What the actual fuck was that?” She looked around the table looking for an answer. 

“He does it all the time” Morty says “Everytime he leaves a room he grabs their hand.”  

That piqued both Summer and Beth's curiosity. Jerry of course was in his own little bubble. “When did he start doing that?” Beth questions, she tries to think back to see if she could remember but nothing specific comes to mind. 

“I don’t know, I just noticed it a few weeks ago” Morty responds.  “When I brought it up he pretended to not know what I was talking about.” 

Summer chuckles, “I think Grandpa Rick has a crush” she teases not once looking up from her phone. 

Just then you walk back into the dinning room, “Sorry left my phone” you pick up the device going to walk back. “Oh Beth, dinner was lovely thanks again” 

Beth gives you a sweet smile, “No problem” before you turn away Beth asks the question that’s on her mind. “Hey Y/n what's with Dad dragging you out of the room?” Summer and Morty are both surprised at their mothers bluntness. 

“Oh, I’m not really sure either, he just started doing it I don’t mind though” Beth says nothing but ‘Oh’. You give her a small nod heading back to the garage. She doubts she’ll get an answer from her Dad so that answer will have to suffice. 

~THE GARAGE~

“What took you so long?” Rick doesn’t look up at you tinkering with the little gizmo in his hand. 

“Beth was wondering why you dragged me out of rooms” Rick just muttered a small ‘okay’ but now that Beth mentioned it you wanted an answer. “So why do you always drag me?” He sets down the item he’s working on turning towards you. 

“I need someone to hand me my screwdriver” you can’t help but be a little disappointed in his answer. He ignores your pouty face instead vaguely pointing across the room. You sigh moving to where he pointed to grab the requested screwdriver. “and I like you being close to me” he says under his breath as you sort through the drawer. 

“What did you say?” you question a screwdriver in hand. 

He clears his throat “Make sure its a flat head”, you chuckle under your breath, you knew he liked you. “Why are you smiling like that?” he asks when you hand him the screwdriver. 

“No reason”

“Sure” he grumbles but doesn’t question you further, opting to go back to tinkering with his little square. While you just watch grabbing a tool for him every once in a while.

[bouncybongfairy]

Rickety-Rickety Wrecked

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After recently getting a job, the illusion that high school status quotes and popularity truly mean nothing. You've been re-evaluating things that once made you bubble with excitement like sneaking out and partying. That being said, your younger sister informs you that she's going to Summer Smith's house party. Starting to feel like a senior citizen, you tag along and encounter Rick Sanchez.

Word Count 3.0k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

As you walked out the doors of the nursing home you worked at. Your hand was lazily searching for the keys that were undoubtedly buried at the bottom of your bag. After opening the car door, you let your body fall into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t just being physically but mentally drained as well. Tossing your purse into the passenger side and start the car. It was Friday and you were excited to finally have an entire weekend off. You couldn’t remember the last time you had any time to yourself. Pulling into the driveway, you weren’t surprised to see that your mom’s car wasn’t home. She works nights but will take every double shift she can get her hands on. You dropped the purse on your bed and immediately went over to shower. Even though you’re a Med-Tech you still will help residents with toileting among other things. While waiting for the water to get hot, you let your dirty scrubs drop onto the floor.​​ The water was scorchingly perfect, you could feel your muscles loosening. Using your nails, you scrub your scalp almost moaning from how nice it felt. The smell of the ‘honey crisp apple’ scented candle was only adding to the relaxation. Unfortunately that all came to a halt when your younger sister barrelled into the bathroom and turned on the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed. 

“Well sorry, you’re the one hogging the bathroom,” your sister remarked. 

“If you were patient and knocked I would have told you that I’m about to be done,” you said. 

“No time, Morty invited me to a party that Summer is throwing,” she said which made you throw the current open. 

“You’re going to Summer Smith’s party?” you questioned. 

“Yeah, I thought you were going to. Morty mentioned that Summer asked you. And plus I kinda already told my friend that you would give us a ride..” she said. 

“Girl what the fuck, why would I go to a party after working every day after school all week. Yeah she invited me but I wasn’t planning on going,” you huffed.

“Well, can you still take me?” she asked.

After you got out of the shower you thought about the fact that even your younger sister was going to be at this party. Even though you were still tired from school and the work week, you felt like staying home would just make you feel… pathetic. As soon as you got out of the shower you started getting ready. You haven’t done your makeup in so long that you almost forgot how to apply your lashes. You straightened your hair and threw on a jean mini skirt and a black long sleeve. It was weird looking in the mirror once you were all done up. You liked it though, it made you miss when you didn’t have to worry about work. When you went downstairs to see if your little sister was ready to go, she was equally as shocked at your appearance. After her friend arrived you guys took off to the Smith house. The entire house was completely lit up with lights, teens that were smoking on the roof, and of course, unknown species of life that were slithering and flying around. Your sister pestered you for 20 bucks then ditched you. You entered the house and immediately got greeted by the smell of weed and tobacco. It didn’t bother you too much though, you walked into the living room and immediately saw your old group of friends. They all screamed and ran over to give you a hug. You could tell they were all a little intoxicated. 

“What are you doing here, we had no idea you were coming!” Maya said. 

“Yeah I had the weekend off so I thought I’d come out,” you said. 

“Ever since you started working, I feel like I haven’t seen you in like forever,” Anna said. 

“Yeah I know, but it’s nice being able to save money. Especially because I could take some of that responsibility off my mom,” you said. 

“Don’t you miss going out though? You were literally about to get asked out by Brad. I mean like, you practically lost your status when it comes to school,” Maya said in a condescending way.

“If my status was based purely on me going to parties and hanging out with girls who are pretending to be drunk then I don’t think I want it. Too obtainable for someone like me, sounds perfect for you though,” you said, giving her a warm smile as you watched her smirk fade from her face. 

Now you remember why you stopped going to house parties like this. As you walked around you couldn’t help but notice all the sophomoric conversations going on. Things like bragging about having a roach from their dad’s ashtray. Or boasting about getting to second base with their girl. Honestly, it made you feel a lot older than you are. Making your way into the kitchen, you saw Summer standing there with Trisha. They both greeted you and complemented how you looked, which really lifted your confidence.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, stranger,” Summer said, giving you a red solo cup filled with an unknown liquid. 

“Girl you know I started working,” you said, smelling the cup and trying to identify what type of liquor it is. 

“Same, honestly ever since I started working at my mom’s shop, I feel like my childhood is officially over,” Trisha laughed. 

“God I’m glad I’m not the only one,” you joked back. 

“We were about to go up into my room and smoke, you wanna join?” Summer asked which you immediately agreed to. 

Her room was really nice, with pink coral walls and a bunch of different posters that covered them. Trisha and you sat down on her bed and Summer walked over and grabbed a bong from under her desk. She grabbed her desk chair so that she could sit in front of you guys. Trisha surprised you and pulled a blunt out from behind her ear. They thought this was your first time smoking but it wasn’t. When you work in a nursing home, sometimes the only thing keeping you sane is your wind-down time at the end of the day. After puffing on those for a bit, Summer pulled out a tray that had a couple of purple almost violet crystals. Without saying a word to each other, the two girls crush up one and then snort it. It took you back at first, the brazenness of how casually they were doing lines was a little jarring, to say the least. When you asked what it was they explained what kalaxian crystals were and what the high was like. Even though it was embarrassing, the factor that sold you was when Summer said they couldn’t be picked up on a drug test. Trisha was holding up the tray and Summer was walking you through what to do. 

“So like, when people do lines for the first time, most don’t fully sniff because they are obviously like, intimidated by it. But if you take a small bump then it’ll just burn and you won’t get the full high. So just go full throttle,” she said handing you the straw, the fact that the whites of her eyes were now blue made you nervous. 

However, the mix of alcohol and weed in your system was making you ballsy. You close your eyes and take the full line, dropping the straw on the tray and bringing your hands to your nose. As if that would’ve helped the burning sensation. Both girls were giggling as they watched you react, asking every now and then if you were okay. Your entire sinus cavity was not only burning but giving off an unpleasant taste in the back of your throat. The effects were immediate and you felt like you were defying gravity. Like if you really tried you could start floating away. You looked over at the two other girls who were dancing to the stereo Summer had in her room. Without them even noticing, you walked out of her room and made your way downstairs. You felt like everything was moving in slow motion and you were taking in every detail of everything you laid eyes on. The music was so loud that it felt like a heart beating in your ears. Panic and sensory overload were taking over and you could feel your heart began to quicken. After accidentally bumping into a girl, she turns around and tries to snake her arm around your waist. Obviously having a stranger try to grind on you in the midst of a panic attack was the last thing that helped. You broke away and made a B-line to the nearest door. You yanked it open and slammed it shut behind you. You were using your hand to cover your mouth in a sad attempt to stop your hyperventilation. 

“Medical emergency detected, blood pressure 148/96 and rising; Medical intervention advised,” a monotone woman’s voice spoke throughout the room. 

“Oh my fucking god, I’m fucking hallucinating… I’m overdosing I-I’m about to fucking die,” you have cried have muttered to yourself and you covered your ears. 

“You -buhrup- you’re not dying yet, what did you take?” a male’s voice asked. When you looked up, a blue-haired man was standing over you. Wearing brown slacks and black shoes. 

“You deaf? What -buhrup- did you take?” he asked again, taking your jaw into his hands and making you look up at him. Your eyes were still blue from the crystals and your jaw was now chattering. You were still crying and breathing heavily. 

“I told Summer to stop letting people take bumps of kalaxian. I have something, hold on.

“No- I don’t, I just needed a-a few minutes to catch my breath,” you explained, wiping your eyes and standing up, still leaning against the garage door for support. 

“Whatever, you’re lucky I’m trying this whole nice thing,” he said, going back to working on whatever it was sitting on his workbench.

“Sorry,” you said, walking over to his bench and asking if you could sit on the bench. He ignored you but also didn’t protest when you hopped on. Setting your purse down, grab your dab pen and take a puff. 

“You sure about smoking that?” he asked. 

“Weed is a vasodilator so it probably wouldn’t be the best thing for me right now but it can’t be the worst either,” you said taking another hit. 

“Did WebMD teach you that?” he asked.

“No, I learned that from my CNA teacher,” you said. 

“HAHA, do you enjoy wiping shit off of saggy balls?” Rick said followed by a fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, kinda hot,” you said, taking a drag. He looked at you with his eyebrow cocked which made you burst out into laughter, “you should have seen his face!” You said you are unable to compose yourself. He squinted his eyes, tilted his head down slightly, and scowled at you. 

Maybe it was the drugs but the look he gave you made your stomach feel like it was boiling. He again went back to tinkering with his invention. His side profile was strong, his lips were in a frown and he had liquor dripping down his chin. His hands were huge, making a screwdriver look like a pencil. His posture was horrible, practically hunching over the workbench. The blue long-sleeve he wore was slightly tucked into the top of his pants. You were watching his lower stomach rise and lower as he breathed at a very steady rate. He had dark under-eye bags that only added to an angst vibe that radiated off him. You wanted to make a move to indicate that you thought he was attractive but felt insecure. Taking a deep drag from your pen to give you a bit of courage, you kick off your heels.

The sound of them clattering to the floor made Rick look over, he didn’t move but instead shifted his eye to the side to watch you. When he didn’t give you the attention you were craving, you uncrossed your legs and let them hang in front of you. Rick set down what he was working on and turned to face you. Pressing his back into the workbench and just watching you. Biting onto the tip of the pen you take another big drag and blow it between your legs. In turn, he took a swig from his flask, almost like that was his move in this little game you were playing with each other. You set your pen down and pull your skirt up so that the jean material of your skirt was no longer touching the tabletop. Revealing the hip bands on your baby blue thong, he chuckled and walked over to you. He stood about a foot away from you and even though there was still distance between the two, it felt closer. You were intimidated by him and you couldn’t tell if it was turning you on more or not. Extending your leg out, you use your foot and untuck the front of his shirt from his pants. Exposing his happy trail that to your surprise was also blue. 

“So the carpet does match the drapes,” you giggle, which quickly turns into a gasp as Rick grabs your ankle and holds it up slightly. He was squeezing it so tightly but this only ignited a need that you didn’t know existed. 

“Should have asked if you were so curious,” he said, pulling your leg so that your ass was almost falling off the edge of the table.

He loosened his grip on your ankle and ran his calloused hand up your leg. Once he was close enough, he snaked his hand around your waist. The feeling of his hand touching your lower back made your back arch involuntarily. His crotch was pressed lightly against yours. You were so nervous that your teeth were chattering. His hands were now running up and down your lower back, almost like he was getting off from watching how sensitive you were to his touch. When you looked up, he was already looking down at you. This was something that was new to you and you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands. Trying not to think too hard about it, you dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers. You pressed your nose against him, letting your bottom lip rub against his gently. You start pulling on the end of his shirt, prompting him to take it off. He shook his head in disagreement, so you pull away slightly and take your top off. He laughed and then took his shirt off as well. As if he had a look in his eye that said I’ll show mine if you show yours’. The fact that neither of you had to speak to communicate made you want to throw yourself at him. There were scars littered across his body, you traced one that was on his chest. Moving your fingertips to his arms, still admiring his old battle wounds. He was still watching you even though you weren’t making eye contact with him. 

When you finally broke away and looked up at him and couldn’t help but admire him. His frown lines, how dark his eyes were, and how his hair was sticking out in all directions. You smashed your mouth against him, unable to bear waiting any longer. He was such a good kisser, not messy and sloppy like the ones you’ve had before. He was aggressive but not overbearing, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Running your hands through his hair and around his neck. He moved his hands to his hips and began grinding against you. Your lips were starting to feel raw from how long he’d been biting and kissing. Moving your hands down to his pelvis you try unbuckling his belt. When he pulled away from you, a trail of saliva connected by the both of your bottom lips followed. He pulled down the front of his pants, exposing his dick. You pulled your panties to the side and he didn’t waste any time reaching down to feel how wet you were. He let out a hoarse moan, and let his forehead fall onto your shoulder. At this point you were aching with anticipation. Unwilling to take his teasing anymore, you reach down and line up his tip with your entrance. He takes the hint and moves his hands back to your hips for support. Slowly he started pressing into you, his mouth was slightly hung open. There was a slight stinging from how big he was but because he was starting slow, that feeling soon faded. He took a step forward once he was fully pressed into you. 

He kept himself buried inside of you for a while while kissing your neck. Sucking hickies and leaving bite marks all the way down to your shoulder. He slowly started rocking himself back and forth. You attach yourself to his neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and moan as he slides in and out. You were trying to buck your hip up in order to meet him halfway with his thrusts. Watching his facial expressions as he pounded into you was making you feel euphoric. Everytime you tightened around his shaft you could see his face scrunch in pleasure. At this point he was pounding viciously into you, your walls were becoming sensitive. You were sure that he was getting close because he was getting more aggressive. His thrusts were getting more sporadic, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of your hair. Forcing your head back, exposing your neck allowing him to continue marking you up.

You were whimpering every time his length pressed completely inside you. His face was red from how much he was exerting himself. Your arms were wrapped around his neck so he grabbed you from underneath your knees and pressed you against the wall. The change in position was enough to send you over the edge, going limp slightly as your pussy spasmed around his cock while you came. He let his entire body weight press against you as he came inside you. As you were cumming, you could feel his throbbing member spurting inside of you. When he pulled out he took his shaft into his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your folds. Enjoying the feelings of your warmth and swollen core. He set you back down on the top of his work station. You were still cross faded and don’t think you could walk even if you wanted to. Barely being able to keep your eyes open you use your arm as a pillow to ‘rest your eyes’ for a few moments.

Rick zipped his pants up and went to leave the garage, knowing you’d probably leave once you woke up. Maybe it was the recent encounter with Unity that made him feel like a douche. As if having careless sex with you was only proving her point that you were a bad guy. He took a deep breath and stood in front of the door for a while before turning around. Grabbing your purse, he took your wallet and looked for the address on your ID. After punching it into his portal gun and creating the green entryway to your house. He picked you up bridal style and carried you through the portal. He used his foot to move the covers over and set you down on your bed. Leaving your purse and shoes on the floor next to you before leaving.

[fadedmunson]

rose blood | r. sanchez

pairings ; rick sanchez x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

summary ; MAJOR SPOILERS ending of 7x05 (unmortricken) when you try to be there for rick's numb state

genre ; insanely sad angst ;( bit of fluff at the end, established relationship (?) no labels on it but you're close

notes ; i've loved this show for quite so i'm quite surprised i haven't written for r&m sooner. use of curse words

wc ; 0.7k sooo pretty short

"morty, you can’t come! evil morty, stay out of my way! gonna kill my nemesis! rick out!"

that's all you manage to hear as you get down to the basement a couple second too late.

you pause right as you opened the door to his lab.

"wait did rick say he was going after prime?" your eyes widen and you began to tense up at the thought of rick no longer thinking with his head.

you pause your thinking when you see two morty's, your morty and one with an eye-patch.

"-oh hey evil morty, didn't think i'd ever see you here." you simpered

his eyes narrowed, "trust me, theres alot i would've done to avoid being here in the first place."

"you’re an asshole." your morty grumbled

"well, yeah. I’m not “good” morty."

he opens a yellow portal to follow rick you assume.

"come or don’t. i don’t care."

you get snapped out of your haze

"actually, fuck this. if he wants to go out there and get himself killed he can be my guest." you quickly turn you head and leave the basement sublevel.

you're not his babysitter, but you're still a little worried for the old man. It's not everyday you finally find the person who killed your daughter and wife.

you quickly head up to his room and try to collect all of your thoughts

you begin pacing around the room as your heart rate picks up

rick found prime, morty and evil morty followed him, is evil morty going to kill prime or rick?, why is evil morty even there?, and is this all a trap?

to distract yourself, you take a nap on his bed cot to just put a pause on everything for now.

sure it's uncomfortable, but it'll do

your quick 30 minute napped turned into three hours and you wake up in a sweaty, thirsty daze.

you walk into the kitchen, greet beth and grab a bottle of water

you walk into the garage in time to see rick and morty just back from their battle

morty smiles and waves at you

"crazy fucking day today haha, jeez."

you gave him a light smile and ruffled his hair

once he was out of the room you got a good look at rick and your smile immediately dissipated.

he look disheveled, covered in a shit-ton of blood (a mixture of his and prime's) a broken nose, black eyes, and scratches littering his body

that didn't phase you, what did was the emotionless look on his face

he turned to you, but it didn't look like he was fully there.

"rick," your voice is tight

you don't even know how to articulate yourself, you've never seen him like this.

"that's a lot of blood." you awkwardly chuckle.

"yeah," his voice is toneless.

you quickly reach out to hold his hand, but the quick flinch withheld you.

"well, what are you gonna do now?"

he just looked up from the floor and shrugged his shoulders.

"i can stay, if you want."

he stays silent

you quickly move to sit on the floor against his counters and you pat the space next to you.

he moves to sit next to you and closes his eyes in the comfortable silence.

you move to rest your head in his chest and kiss the parts of his hand without any blood on them while intertwining them with yours.

"i'll stay right here with you, rick. you don't have to be alone."

you hear his body shake as he tries to quietly but violently cries into your hair.

you turn to hold him in your arms as you let the sobs turn into sniffles and then into stuttering breaths.

he grabs onto you like he'll lose you at any moment, and you kiss his tears away while whispering "we're okay," and "i'm not going anywhere."

"can we stay like this for a little?" he quietly rasped out

your mouth curved into a smile "of course, but after this we should get you cleaned up." you open your eyes to stroke his cheek and lock lips.

[rustychainsnorter]

You know what I'm excited for the most about season 8? Everyone coming together.

I'm excited to see all of the fanart; artists' bursting to life with inspiration and creativity.

I'm excited to see fanfic writers flourish and set sail with their imaginations.

I'm excited to see all the fan theories and analysis.

I'm excited to see season 8 bring everyone back together for another couple months of unforgettable fun.

[dont-tell-anyone-im-here]

Wafer Cookies

Summary: You just had the worst week of your life and all you wanted was some wafer cookies. Instead, some jerk in a lab coat got the last box. Time for some negotiation.

~*Tags: Cross-Posted AO3; Rick Sanchez x fem!Reader; Rick Sanchez Smut; Cunnilingus; Blowjob; Vaginal Fingering; Public Sex; One Night Stand; No Feelings; Don't Read Into It; Elevator Sex; Use of Pet Names (Princess); Vaginal Penetration*~

Your week has been anything but easy. An unrelenting work load at the job you despise, friends flaking out last minute, and you’ve managed to stub your toe not once but twice today. To say you were on edge and just needed to lay on your couch, pounding snacks in your face with some mind-numbing TV was an understatement. When your work week finally ended, your first stop before Relaxation Station was the grocery store for your favorite snack of all time, wafer cookies. You couldn’t leave your workplace fast enough, nearly crashing into the parking lot of the local store. Once inside, you made a beeline for the cookie and snack aisle. As you rounded the corner of where your treasure lie, you spotted your prize, calling your name. Upon nearing, you noticed you were about to grab the last box, ‘Finally some good luck,’ you thought as you reached out, your body already relaxing at just the thought of holding the box. As swift as the feeling came over you, a very tall, lanky man with a bald spot cut you off, taking the lone box of cookies.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, your arm falling to your side and forming a fist. The man didn’t even look up, reading the calories per serving as he spoke.

"Look lady, I grabbed the box first so it's mine, oka-" He finally glanced to you and stopped for a mere second then continued, however you noticed the pause.

"I-I-I got the box first, so they're mine." He tucked the box under his arm. Your jaw clenched.

"Like hell, I was here before you and you took them when I was grabbing for them!" You said, leaning your weight to one hip and crossing your arms, glaring. The man's eyes followed your movement as you spoke, clearly not listening. You weren’t sure if the heat you felt was because you were upset or if it was because it turned you on being objectified. You responded with a grunt and yanked the cookies out from under his arm, holding them close to your chest.

"I've had a long week and I don't need your perverted eyes following me to be the cherry on top of it. I'm taking these cookies and there's nothing you can do about it."

The man stood there, dumbfounded, as you stomped off with the wafer cookies under your arm. You weren’t sure if he was attractive or not, maybe it was just his raspy voice, but god what a creep, and a rude one at that. You were in the self-checkout line when he showed up again. You were paying for the wafer cookies when he was standing there beside you. Christ, you didn’t realize how tall he was in your upset state earlier, but now that he was beside you, he towered over you. If he wasn’t so skinny you’d think he was a mountain, instead, this rude, creepy stranger was more of a telephone pole. If you had to put a name to it. You rolled your eyes and let out a disgusted sigh as you scanned the box, getting out your wallet to put your card into the credit card reader.

"What do you want, Baldie?" You asked, rather irritated. You could see his unibrow lower into a scowl out of the corner of your eye. He shoved his hands in the lab coat he was wearing, frowning.

"Those wafer cookies, obv-obviously." He answered, just as irritated, watching you as you finished buying your single item and following you as you took your bounty, heading out to the parking lot.

“Are you seriously following me?” You ask loudly, barely turning your head to address the stranger as he followed you.

“I want those cookies. Can’t enjoy my evening without them.”

"I'm not going to give them to you." You take your keys out of your pocket, locking your car with the key fob to locate your vehicle in the lot.

"Look-look lady, I-I-I'm not afraid to fight UR-ya for them."

You stopped in your tracks. At first, you were astonished that he could burp mid-sentence and still have the flow of one, then you registered that he said he'd fight you. You turned to face him, covering your mouth as you snorted.

"Fight me? For wafer cookies?" You said from behind your hand, starting to giggle, then growing into full-blown laughter. You keeled over, hugging your stomach as it began to cramp. You started to light up, standing up straight and wiping your eyes as the waves died down, taking deep breaths.

"Oh- ohohohoho-" you giggled, "Christ, that was a day brightener."

When your vision cleared, you could see that the man was not as amused as you were. In fact, he looked more annoyed, almost even angry. His frustration was met with your smile and an extended hand, your mood having been drastically lifted, introducing yourself.

"You're pretty funny for a grouchy unibrow in a lab coat." You added after telling him your name. The man stared at your hand with a grimace before rolling his eyes and finally shaking it. Now that you were close and facing each other, you noticed that he was drooling, or maybe it was dribble from whatever he was drinking out of the flask he pulled out from an inside pocket of his lab coat.

"Rick Sanchez,” He stated as he uncapped the flask, took a swig, and put it back in his coat before continuing, “And this is- uuUR-WHERE'S MORTY?!"

Rick looked around frantically, his hands on his head as he searched the lot for “Morty”, calling out his name between burps.

"Uh, Morty-?” You started, but a shrill voice yelling across the parking lot interrupted you.

"RICK Y-Y-YOU ASSHOLE!" You both looked to see a teenage boy with short, curly, brown hair standing at the front entrance of the grocery store.

"Jesus Christ, Morty, you- you gotta stay with me- stay- k-keep up with grandpa, Morty!" Rick yelled back to the boy who was now making his way over to the two of you. Rick turned back to see you with a raised eyebrow. You subconsciously beat yourself when your first thought was disappointment that the man was possibly married with kids and grandkids.

"You have grandkids?" You questioned as Morty came up to stand next to his grandfather.

"Yeah. Complete shitheads if you ask me."

"Ah jeez, Rick. That-that's notta very nice thing t-to say." Morty stammered, rubbing his own arm to comfort himself. Rick rolled his eyes.

"Morty, I-I have science to prove how shitty you and your sister are. I have scientific proof, Morty!” You grimaced now, hearing how he was treating his own grandson. For a fleeting moment you had pondered if maybe a deal could be made for the cookies. A one night stand, perhaps? You weren’t sure if you genuinely wanted that or if it was just because after the work week you had, a good fuck would be the perfect stress reliever. If you got a few rounds out, then you’d be good without the snacks. But, you pushed that idea away. Besides, he could be married, no sex for cookies in that scenario. You shook your head to clear your thoughts away.

"So, you're married?" Wow, you actually did clear all thought. Rick looked over from the small boy he was ranting at. You could almost see the ghost of a smirk, but his face remained annoyed.

"No, why're you uRR-‘skin', shorty?" Not married. Maybe you could talk up a deal then.

"“Shorty”? You're freakishly tall, Jolly Green!" You retorted, not hiding your own smile from your name calling. Morty stifled a laugh. Rick sent a glare his way then looked back to you.

"Look, I-I-I just want the wafer cookies, so hand them over!" He held out his hand expectantly. Even if you were thinking of a deal in your head, you weren’t just going to hand the prize over.

"Fuck no!" You say, continuing your venture to your car.

"Rick, it's just wafer cookies-" Morty tried, only for his grandfather to angrily shove his hands to his side in fists.

"No, Morty! It’s not “just wafer cookies”, Morty! I-I-I’ve been everywhere and-and no goddamn store has any goddamn wafer cookies! That’s the last box in the whole county, Morty!”

"Really? Why not just, I-I don’t know, just-just, go to a different dimension that has wafer cookies?"

"You don’t get it, Morty. This dimension that-that we live in, it’s the URr-nly dimension with the best wafer cookies, Morty! The cookies here are-are-are the only good kind, Morty! Wafer cookies are integral to-to how we properly, properly watch Ball F-UURRp-lers, BALL FONDLERS, MORTY!"

You were long gone from the scene, sitting at the driver’s seat of your car and setting your box of wafer cookies on the passenger side, turning the keys in the ignition. Rolling the windows down you settled yourself and pulled out your phone to start looking for the music you wanted to play for the drive home. As you scrolled through your playlists, out of the corner of your eye, you can see a hand creep into the car, reaching for the box in the unaccompanied seat. You yelped and threw the car into reverse, hitting the gas. The hand flew out of the window with a gasp of surprise as the vehicle flung backwards. 

"What the fuck, shortstack?!" You heard Rick exclaim. You sidled the car to be right next to him and Morty, the latter looking more worried than his general expression was.

"“What the fuck shortstack”? What the fuck, Doc Brown?! You were trying to steal a box of fucking wafer cookies from my car!" You glare at Rick, who only glares back with crossed arms. You were sure this man was going to stop at nothing to get those damn cookies, perfect for negotiation.

"You wanna come over?" You ask, holding up the box with a quirked brow, your tongue darting across your bottom lip. You felt a little ridiculous being so bold, especially when met with his annoyed gaze. He looked your body up and down as you sat in your car, debating. You were sure this time that your blush was because you were turned on. There was something about being surveyed like some knick-knack he was debating on buying as a souvenir on a vacation. Almost degrading. 

"Love to.”

You weren’t expecting that, yet you grinned and unlocked your car doors, putting the box down.

"Morty," Rick reached into his lab coat and pulled out an odd-looking gun with a bulb embedded at the top. It crackled with bright, green electricity, lighting up with a sound that you could equate to the gun firing and what looked like a portal bloomed out of thin air next to Morty, the same color green that swirled in the bulb.

"Go home. I'll be back- fuckin'- I don't know," Rick looked at you. "How long is this gonna take?"

"How long do you want it to take?" You crossed your arms under your breasts, making them much more apparent. You honestly surprised yourself with what were you saying, the last time you did something like this your apartment was almost robbed. Rick, though you noticed him stare at your chest, rolled his eyes and looked to Morty.

"I'll-I'll be home when I'm home. Now go, now go- Fuck, I don't care."

“And what-what am I supposed to tell mom? You said you-you-you’d be home for dinner tonight.”

“My daughter knows I fu-UUH-ck, Morty. How else did she-she get here?”

The older man climbed into the passenger seat of the car, gleefully taking the wafer cookies from the cushion and holding them in his lap as he adjusted the chair to accommodate his long legs and torso. You watched Morty look between you and his grandfather, a look of disgust growing on his face before going into the portal with it swirling in on itself, disappearing after he stepped through.

“Did he just go through a portal?” You ask, wide eyed, looking at the empty place where the boy had once stood. Rick crossed his arms, looking bored already.

“Yes, can we go now?”

You nodded and looked both ways before putting the car in drive, maneuvering out of the parking lot.

"You should be nicer to him, he seems like a good kid." You comment as you turned onto the street outside of the lot, beginning your drive home. Rick sighed like an angsty teenager in response. In your peripheral you saw his whole head move with his eye roll.

"Fuck that noise. If-if-if you're just gonna rant about how I need to treat Morty then I'll leave."

"No, I was just making an observation. You should give the kid a break, he’s like, what? 14?" Rick groaned.

"I'm just here for the wafer cookies." You hear the rustling of the box of cookies being opened. You moved one of your hands from the steering wheel to grab his, stopping him.

"Touch those cookies and you get no form of sweets when we get to my bedroom. You hear me?” You let go of his hand, resting it on the console between the seats.

"Fuck you, Princess." Rick grunted, but made no move to continue opening the box.

"That's why you're here, Unibrow." You smirked, holding your hand out. You didn’t even notice you did it until your passenger said in a disgruntled tone,

“What?"

"Sorry, I like to hold hands when I drive with people.” You explained, but you didn’t put your hand down.

"What? No, this is a one time thing. I-I'm not doing dumb rituals or whatever."

"That's too bad, I was thinking of letting you have a wafer cookie or two if you did." You say wistfully, starting to lower your arm to just rest on the gear shift.

"Are y-y-you treating me like-like a dog? Doin’ party tricks?" Rick asked, only to be answered with silence, you glancing at him when you came to a stop sign before looking back to the road. His mouth slid into a smirk.

"That's kinky as shit." He slipped his hand into yours, earning a grin from you. You noticed the length of his fingers, how calloused his palms were. Staying focused on the road, you slowly brought your clasped hands to your lap, and you instantly felt him let go to grasp your thigh. You glanced at him again to see him looking straight at the stretch of street in front of him, his free hand feeding him the cookies he was promised, while the other rubbed your leg. You felt his fingers curl along the inside of your thigh, his pinky straying further in, sending static through your nerves. Your legs involuntarily squeezed together when his fingers brushed the seams of your crotch, he chuckled, and kept looking forward. Your face flushed, letting your thighs relax, his hand sliding further in, now rubbing the fabric of your pants. You let out a slight gasp, shifting in your seat for your legs to spread further, wanting him to touch more of you.

“Barely touching you and-and you’re already, already spread.” Rick openly laughed, taking his hands away suddenly, making you unwillingly whine. He pulled out the flask in his coat and took a swig, wiping away what slipped past his lips on his sleeve, his grin remained. He slipped the flask back in his jacket and his hand returned between your legs, his fingers trying to prod their way into you despite the obstacle.

“Y-y-you think if I keep goin’ you’ll soak through?” Your blush deepened.

“Ar-are you trying to find out?” You asked, though your voice wavered.

“I’ll stop-“ He started to retract, only for you to grab his hand and keep it at your cunt, making him laugh at you again.

“Oh! Take that as a-AH no.” His middle finger pressed deeper than the others, pushing right into your clit. You could feel the texture of your pants through your underwear, already wet, growing more desperate the more he taunted you over your clothes. You almost pulled over and dragged him into the back seat, but you were so close to your apartment, just a couple more blocks.

“Ya know, I-I can tell that you’ve gone through your pant-panties.” He sounded almost nonchalant, as if he didn’t just say one of the most insane things you’ve heard. But it made you squeeze your thighs together again.

“I don’t even, even think you’re going to be able to keep it together long enough to-to get your so called “sweets” in the bedroom.”

“We’re here.” You squeaked out as you approached your apartment complex, shakily pulling into your designated parking spot. Rick let go of you so quickly you almost whimpered, grabbing the wafer cookies and tucking them under his arm as he waited to follow you to the doors of the building, smirking at how you wobbled when first stepping out of the car. As you approached the entrance, you picked out the key to your building from your keychain, unlocking the door, though you were struggling slightly with keeping your hands straight enough to fit the key in the hole.

“Someone’s distracted.” He was right at your ear, bent at the waist, lips almost grazing you. You didn’t even notice he was so close. You were sure he could feel how hot the tips of your ears were.

“Ooh, just you wait, you’ll be distracted here soon.” You had wanted to threatening, but it clearly didn’t come across as such because the man still had that shit-eating grin on his face. Once inside, you called the elevator, ignoring the mail you’ve grown accustomed to grabbing when you had come home from work. You had more important things to take care of, like the growing uncomfortable feeling of your wet panties. Once the lift doors opened, you stepped inside, Rick again following you, standing at your side, and idly looking around the shabby elevator with dirty corners and yellowed lighting.

"Y-Y-You're how old and you have an apartment?”

"You're how old and you're not married, and live with your kid's family?" You poked your floor button with your middle finger as he raised his eyebrow, muttering, “Touché,”under his breath. The doors begin to close when someone’s hand caught the doors, shoving them open quicker than the sensor can make them move, and clambered into the cab, followed by two more who thanked them for keeping the elevator. When they all pressed their floor buttons and began chattering about their work days, you heard Rick groan then shove the box of cookies into your hands. You rolled your eyes, giving an apologetic look to the man beside you as the newcomers loudly discussed their lunches and work drama.

Once the elevator started to move, Rick slipped his hand with yours again, surprising you. After how he acted in the car, you hadn’t expected him to do that, and you couldn’t help the butterflies it sent fluttering in your stomach. But then, his hand slipped to your waist, the butterflies slamming into your body now. His hand trailed down to your hip and grazed past your ass, the butterflies sinking into arousal, the hand circling up your back and down over the span of your ass. You stared lazily at the elevator doors and the backs of the gossipers heads, trying to fight the waves of pleasure you were experiencing by just being touched. His hand found its way to the hem of your shirt, daring to go under, his fingertips skimming along your skin leaving trails of goosebumps. He wormed his hand down into the back of your pants, groping your ass, your blush making it feel like you were sweating bullets. His hand removed itself, now pulling you behind him, having his body block yours, now forced into the corner of the elevator. You weren’t sure what he had planned, but your first thought wasn’t that he would maneuver his hand down the front of your pants this time, going under the waistband of your underwear and start rubbing your cunt.

You were surrounded by people and Rick was fingering you, unnoticed.

You bit your lip to hold back the noises that bubbled in your throat, your hips rocking with his fingers to get more friction, standing in your tiptoes and balancing on the cornered walls to allow him more access. You tried to keep your breathing under control. In the nose, out the nose, in the nose, out the nose, you just had to keep breathing. But the thought of getting caught in such a lewd act with his slender fingers stroking you was such a thrill in itself. His fingers teased at your clit and with each instinctual buck of your hips, you could see his shoulders bounce, holding back giggles. You were starting to struggle with your grip on the cookies that got you here in the first place. You were getting close to cumming, meaning you were going to cum in public, and didn’t know if you were going to be able to keep quiet. As people got off the lift, they didn't even notice that you were behind the tall man in the corner. At least until the final person. Once they had stepped off the elevator and had begun walking away, you let out a small 'fuck', believing you were safe to finally moan aloud. But they turned around, and what they saw was Rick pulling a slick hand out of your pants. As if in slow motion, the doors began to close, you saw their horrified face, and they saw yours, with Rick sticking his tongue through his “V”-shaped sticky fingers. There was a feeling of mortification at being caught, but the adrenaline was enough to make you breathless. You leaned heavily on the wall, your wobbly legs more intense than before. Rick gave a satisfied grin at the sight of your flushed face, your bitten, swollen lips, your unbalanced stance, then he looked to study his wet fingers.

"Damn, y-you’re soaked," Rick spread his fingers to show the bridges of fluid between them to emphasize his point. “Why not just, just stop the-the elevator an-and get you that stress relief you’-UR-e looking forward to?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, you were rather tempted at the thought. He could pin you against the dingy walls, tell you that you’re as filthy as the lift as he holds you up by the thighs with your legs wrapped around his small frame. You were about to agree with his idea, when your eyes went wide, your jaw dropping, speechless, as he took each of his slick fingers into his mouth, one by one, sucking and licking them clean. He caught your stare.

“You expect me to just w-w-wipe that shit off? It’s more valuable than, than most organs on some black ma-ARCK-ets.”

You didn’t know how to express how hot that was. You didn’t really know what he was talking about with pre-cum being valuable on black markets, but you were about to just grab him, and make him finally make you cum. You’ve been teased enough today. The elevator doors opened again, a quick glance and you recognized the floor you lived on. Your mouth felt dry as you took one of his hands and lead the way to your apartment. You fumbled your keys out of your pocket and tried to unlock your door, only to get distracted once again by the man you brought home. His arms wrapped around your body, finding ways under your clothes to touch your bare skin, eliciting soft moans as you still tried to unlock the door.

“Fuck, Rick, can-“ You tried to protest between sighs, “Can you give me a seh-second?”

“What? You can’t handle it, Princess? Yo-you acted like such tough shit at the store.” You felt his teeth tug on your ear lobe and your legs wobbled. It was like he was using this whole excursion to show you that yes, there was something he could do about you taking that last, stupid, fucking box of wafer cookies, and it was to fuck you dumb. Finally, you made it into the apartment, flinging the box of cookies onto a nearby chair and yanking him inside by his lab coat. You reached as high as you could and pulled him down to finally crash your lips together. He tasted of stale alcohol and chemicals you couldn’t describe but you couldn’t get enough of him. You moaned in his mouth when he pulled you closer, bending down lower for you to deepen the kiss. You blindly fumbled backwards to your bedroom, trying to steer for the hallway but bumping into different furniture instead. You grunted, pulling away with a sharp bite in his bottom lip as you did, his deep moan flipping some sort of switch in you. When his lip slapped back to his gums you looked up at him with a half lidded gaze, suddenly very hungry, and you turned and dragged him to your bedroom as quickly as your unbalanced legs could carry you.

Once in the room you pulled Rick back down to you, teeth clattering together with the force of it, spinning the two of you around so you backed him onto the bed, forcing him to lay down under you as you straddle him. He allows you to take control with his hands on your hips as you felt him up, running your hands up and down his body, going under his shirt, leaving trails of goosebumps on his skin as he had done to you. Your hips ground against his, feeling his rock hard cock through his pants, you moaned in his mouth, his bulge fitting perfectly between your now soaked through pants. Based on how it felt, he was going to fit perfectly, if not be overfilling. You pulled away, your tongues partially out of your mouths, breathing heavily. He looked dazed almost, taken aback by your sudden assertiveness, just watching you with droopy eyes as you slowly inched off his lap and knelt on the floor before your bed, reaching for his belt buckle. He propped himself on his elbows, staring at you for a moment as you unhooked his belt and started at the button of his pants before fully sitting up. With one hand he caressed your head while the other reached into his coat again for his flask, finishing it off before returning it to its pocket and shrugging off the jacket. You were too busy already licking him through his briefs to notice him also take his shirt off and toss it aside with his coat, the only thing you’re able to process is how his fingers thread through your hair and his grunts of satisfaction.

“Didn’t think you-you’d do this after all the, all the shit I pulled.” He says pulling your hair slightly so you’d look up at him.

“I’ll stop.” You mimicked him from the earlier car ride, and you think he would’ve laughed if you hadn’t gone back to feeling and licking him through his underwear. Instead he moaned, his grip on your hair growing tighter the more your tongue moved. You were right about his size, but you weren’t known for being someone who half-asses things. You didn’t pick up your head until you finally pushed the band of his briefs down, and then immediately taking him in your mouth as deep as you could. You felt his nails dig into your scalp, his muscles tense under you, hearing a hiss and a guttural moan that you would replay in your mind for the rest of your life.

“God-damn.” He’s able to push past tight lips, his head thrown back. You hadn’t even started yet and he was already melting under you. Slowly, you began to suck him off, taking him deeper with each bob of your head. Rick didn’t even control your pace, his vice loosening, letting you set your own, which was enough for him based off how he groaned. You squeezed his hips before letting go and allowing your hands to travel his body, one down to the thighs, squeezing and rubbing, the other sprawling up his torso, feeling him tense and relax with each stroke, gaining momentum. You opened the back of your throat, wanting all of him, keeping your increasing speed. He sounded pathetic almost, feeding into your ego that a man who was nothing but a shit talker was whimpering because you were deep-throating him. You dared to look up at him through your lashes, his dick fully sheathed in your mouth.

“Fuck, me,” He sighed out, “Keep lookin’ at me… fuck, keep-keep lookin’ at me like that.”

You hummed and he shut his eyes, his grip on your hair tightening again. You slowed, letting your teeth graze his shaft, your hands returning to their original handles at his hips. He grunted and you felt him push against your head, but you refused, staying at your desired slow speed. Your scalp screamed when he forced you off him, Rick panting as you tried to catch your breath. You could tell you were something to behold, mouth gaping open with saliva and pre-cum drooling down your chin, trailing to a growing wet spot on your shirt, your eyes not leaving his, half-lidded, already starting to glaze.

“You fucking bitch,” He tried to glare at you but he was still coming down from whatever cloud he was on, “Y-you can’t go that hard then-then-then- fuck you, c’mere.”

He kissed you harshly, his tongue in your mouth, tasting himself, then pulled you back by your hair, making you hiss, before slamming your mouth back on his cock. You kept your gaze on him as he watched you take the near brutal pace he set. You knew that your throat would be sore after, but this was worth it, the ecstasy of just having his dick in your mouth was worth whatever bruise or soreness you’d have tomorrow. You moaned around him and he took advantage, pushing you to sheath him without warning. You felt your lungs jolt in your chest yet he held you still.

“Breathe, Princess- shit, y-you take- fuck- take me so good. Breathe through it.” It sounded like a whisper in the roaring of your ears. Despite the tears now rolling down your cheeks, you still looked up at him, and he moaned at the sight of you. He pulled you off, and before he could give you a chance to breathe, his mouth was on yours again, tongue replacing his dick down your throat, as if trying to soothe the already sore muscles. His hands moved from your scalp to down your neck and down your body, standing up and pulling you with him. He turned you around, this time pushing you down on the bed. He pushed your shirt up and kissed your stomach, running his tongue up your body to your rib cage and stopping at the underwire of your bra, kissing around it and licking a stripe between your tits, stopping at your rolled up shirt and only pulling away to bite into your neck. Your moan came from deep in your chest.

“I know you thought you’d be in-in charge of this,” He says against your throat between bites and sucking your skin, “But you had your fun, i-i-it’s my turn now.”

He pulled your legs over the edge of the bed, kneeling between them, your ass barely on the mattress. He pulled your pants and panties down in one swift movement, surprising you by how quick he was, and even more so when he wordlessly began eating you out.

You bit your lip, your moans whining past your teeth as he laps at your clit, your hips bucking when he pressed the flat of his tongue against it and two of his long fingers entered you. They scissored in you as Rick kept a steady rhythm, chuckling to himself when your body would move on its own in response to everything he did. You felt useless when all you were able to do was grip the sheets under you. The noises that were made as he slurped your clit were sloppily wet when mixed with your gargled moan as he added a third finger and curled them up deeper into you. Your legs gave out, your bottom half folding to the floor before he managed to catch your legs on his shoulders, his tongue unrelenting, taking turns between swirling, pressing, and sucking your clit. His free hand traveled up your body and grabbed at your tits, pulling the padding down to expose them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers. It was almost too much, but you wanted more. You were getting so close. You had been fed into like a growing fire, every thing that he’s done to you pushing you closer to engulfment, edging you this whole time, and you were finally going to cum. Your legs wrapped around his head, pulling him closer into you, a moan ripping out of you.

“I- Fuck!-” You finally spat out, “I’m guh- I’m gonna-”

He pulled away to interrupt you, earning a high pitched whine as your red, hot clit was left cold, but his hand didn’t stop, still pulling you to the edge.

“You think I can’t tell?”

Your eyes were closed and your head was thrashing about the bed, but you could imagine from your short time knowing him that he rolled his eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up, Princess an-and just make those noises.” 

Unashamedly, you obeyed, and you came, his name on your lips. Your back arched, one of his hands still pinching one of your nipples while the other drew out your moans with each curled finger, his swirling tongue slowing to a kiss. You panted, eyes blearily opening to watch him lick his fingers clean once again before going to the source, and lapping that clean as well. You squirmed, whimpering at how sensitive you were under his tongue, but both of his hands reached up to your tits, each grabbing one and pinning you to the bed as he maliciously pawed them, his fingers choosing your nipples as their next victim. 

“Fuck- mmm-Rick!” You whined, but did nothing to stop him, your once useless hands now caressing his head between your legs. You felt his tongue in you, as if he was starving for every last drop of your cum, gulping it all down. You could feel an orgasm building underneath every fragile nerve he hit to finish his meal, you were sure if you came again so quickly you’d unravel. Finally, he pulled away and sat back on his knees, his hands retracting from your chest to wipe his sweaty, cum drenched face with the back of his hand. You were able to catch your breath and feel your body again, staring at the ceiling for a brief moment as you tried to even think.

“Ya know, I could sell the fuck outta that. We could be rich.” He comments as he gets up and starts to take the rest of his clothes off, kicking off his shoes.

“Sell?… What?” You’re barely able to sit up on your elbows.

“Your cum, duh.” He rolled his eyes as he pulled his pants and briefs down, and stepped out of them, now stalking towards you, sitting beside you on the bed and leering over you.

“You wouldn’t have any use for Glib-Zolians, but I-I-I’d still give you a cut because I ultimately hate capitalism an-and only use it so I can destroy it.”

“I have… no idea, what you’re talkin’ about.” You manage to word together, as you sit up and pull your shirt off despite your soft mattress beckoning you to sleep. He rolled his eyes again.

“Course y-you don’t,” He watches as you unclasp your bra and once tossed aside, his hands are back on you, moving up and down your body with an analytical eye, as if finding the mathematical formula that calculated your body.

“And didn’t I say somethin’ about shutting the fuck up?”

You glared at him as best you could, though your facade fell as soon as he took one of your nipples in his mouth. You sighed and squirmed under him, his hand caressing your cheek, the other massaging the unoccupied breast. As he held your face, his fingers curled to the back of your neck, forcing you to pick up your head and watch him as he stared back, bouncing back and forth between your nipples, as if he didn’t want the other feel left out. Your hands came up to hold his head, watching him lightly bite the sensitive buds and moan with each sharp pain of his teeth.

“Rick,” you moan and bite your lip. He pulls away and kisses you, almost sweetly, before it turns deep and desperate. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“Get on your knees, Princess.” He tells you, pulling away to let you move. You got on all fours, putting your weight on your elbows and arching your back for your ass to wag in the air for him. You gasped as felt a sharp smack across your right cheek, but it only made you squirm. You patiently waited for him to touch you again, getting more antsy by the millisecond. You heard the characteristic fumbling with a condom wrapper and you realized that you had completely forgotten about that, so caught up in how horny you were, you had ignored that one rule with sex. You were going to toss a ‘thank-you’ over your shoulder for him remembering but instead you let out a guttural moan. Rick had entered you to the hilt. He gripped your hips, his calloused fingertips already digging into your skin. He had prepped you thoroughly with his fingers and tongue, however he was still something you had to get used to. Your eyes squeezed closed and you circled your hips, trying to relax around him but only accidentally signaling to him that you were ready to go. You cried out as he moved at a speed you were not expecting so soon, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing over and over with enough force for you to lose your grasp on the English language. The only thing out of your mouth were animalistic grunts and moans that coupled with his panting and utterances of how great of an ass you had.

You were already getting close when Rick was just touching you but now that he was pounding into you, you were hurdling off the edge and plummeting into ecstasy. You couldn’t hold back how loud you were, you knew tomorrow you would receive a passive aggressive note slid under your door by your neighbors, but you didn’t care, you were cumming and he wasn’t slowing down. Garbled words tumbled past your lips, you knew you were trying to say how good it felt, how badly you needed this, how hard he was making you cum, but all that came out was nonsense. Your head fell to the bed, moaning into the mattress, only able to keep your ass up anymore. You felt a hand slither up your spine, counting your vertebrae as it gently grasped at your hair, then pulled your head back, your mouth falling open with a cry of pleasure. He slows for a moment, edging out of you until just his tip was inside, then sharply thrusting into you, each earning a deep groan from you.

“You don’t listen,”  he pants, leaning down to hiss in your ear, “I said- shit- I said t’keep makin’ those- fuck-  noises.”

His hips snapped back to its ruthless pace and your mouth hung open, dissonant moans and almost-words flowing out of you as a knot grew in your stomach. He stayed pressed against your back, hot breath fanning your neck.

“I- hng! Ah- ah- cummm-” Is all you manage, Rick’s breathy laugh a loud response, which only tightened the knot, threatening to untangle.

“Cum for me, Princess.”

It’s like a trigger, your eyes rolled back and your body went numb. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his dick and the moan he let out told you he was getting close. He let go of your hair and your deadweight collapsed to the mattress, both his hands now gripping your hips as he drove into you to find his own release. Your brain was mush, you couldn’t have a comprehensive thought, the only thing you could feel was his dick in you, somehow deeper and harder than before. You were so sensitive, every thrust sending shock waves through you, a perfect mix of bliss and over-stimulation, yet you kept moaning, doing as you were told.

His hips slammed into you, and finally, Rick came. A few weak thrusts follow, kissing your neck, a hand creeping up to grab your chin and move your lips to his. He sighed, staying in you and still pressed against you, matching your gasps for air, eyes closed, feeding off each other’s body heat and post-sex glow. After a moment or two, right when a cozy feeling was starting to overcome you, he was able to pick himself off your back, and regrettably pull out. You felt empty without him inside you, but you were more alarmed about how you felt like you couldn’t move, then deciding you’d just roll over and let your dead weight move your joints. He appeared beside you, laying on his back, hands clasped on his chest, a slight smile on his lips as he stared at the ceiling. The silence was comfortable and a small part of you wondered why, however, it didn’t last long, annoyance replacing the soft feeling when you heard him say,

“Sooo… about those wafer cookies…”

[mx-pastelwriting]

Rick's Clean up (Rick's Mess Part 2)

Rick Sanchez x GN! Reader

Summary: Rick comes back for more in turn having to clean up another mess.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Established Relationship, Blowjob. Rick Sub& Dub, Head pushing, Throat fucking, Cum eating

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

Minors do not interact!

Flipping through the galactic channels, finding nothing that catches your eye while feeling the buzz of the warm afternoon. Having spent the whole morning avoiding Rick, knowing what he'd do if caught, but having not seen him since yesterday's dinner after leaving him with a mess.

Sighing, putting down the remote, hearing the silence of the empty house since morning, hearing nothing from the garage, and not waking up with him in your shared room made curiosity nip away at you.

Standing outside the garage door still hearing nothing, with a soft light shining through the undercrack of the door. Reaching for the handle slowly opening it to face an empty garage, walking in seeing nothing is a miss of that you could tell. Unknowing what would happen next.

At the speed of light, Rick pushed you up to the small wall after he closed the door. Looking into his eyes, he stared with a mix of emotions: anger, desperation, lust. Taking it all in, hearing his rapped breaths with his heated body pressed up against yours. Not saying a thing, waiting for his next move, but not needing to say or do a thing, feeling something poking you, letting the dots connect quickly.

Seeing as you released, both watching each other fall into the moment, faces getting closer. Feeling Rick's lips smash into yours, though softened, trying to keep the desperation for you back. Again and again, making him burst from the seems just by touching you.

Guiding your hands down, earning a hum with the kiss roughening, undoing his belt, then pants, feeling your way under the fabric to his hardened cock. Taking it in your hand, stroking it firmly yet slowly, wanting him to feed the desperation.

Doing as you wanted, Rick moves the both of you over to his working bench, taking over sitting him back on the chair. Sitting him down, dropping to your knees, then placing his cock in your mouth before having time to object.

Wrapping your tongue all around sucking every inch of skin, hearing moans erupt from him. Feeling a hand placed over your head pushing down with his hips thrusting up. Fucking your throat, the garage fills with moans, and the wet skin of your throat being fucked.

"Fucking take it," he says, taking back his control, allowing it you hum in response with one of your hands gripped to his thigh and the other on your body.

Pulling your head away, watching as he looks over your face, looking at his work. Smirking at it, he pushes you down again, making sure his balls hit your chin. Soon after feeling his knees start to buckle with his grip becoming looser, he cums, not it in your mouth having pulled away at the last second.

Hearing his broken moans, how they tired and filled with disappointment, but the familiar sweet sound of the front door opening again as you make your way up from the floor, Rick grabs you, looking into your eyes.

"Clean it up," he commands, making you smile, then giving his favorite look while licking and sucking up Rick's cum, not wasting a drop of his mess.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

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[conanssummerchild]

ive dipped my toes into a little bit of unserious fic writing for rnm and i felt it was about time i dropped an autistic rick fic 🫡

ive had this idea circling around in my head for a while but i wasn't really sure what direction the fic would go in but ive decided to go for some good old internalised ableism (me writing angst? shocking /sarc) bcs rick never seems to see his autism as a disadvantage which is super slay BUT there is also a lot of difficult things to deal with being autistic and you know that old fucker hates admitting he needs help with anything so im gonna fucking force him to >:) this is set in like maybe season 2 or early season 3 btw just to make rick even less inclined to admit he needs any help !!

ok enough yapping, here we gooo

~~~

It was awfully quiet in the house for a Saturday afternoon. Usually by now Rick would've come barging into the living room, demanding Morty come with him and tugging him through a portal without waiting for an affirmative answer, always at least a little drunk on whatever he could get his hands on.

Today there was none of that, only fragrant smells of whatever dinner Jerry was cooking coming from the kitchen, juxtaposed with the harsh screaming match going on between him and Beth. Summer was scrolling on her phone absently next to Morty on the sofa as he pretended to watch some film that Jerry insisted was a masterpiece on non-interdimensional TV.

Overall, it was a normal night at the Smith's house from before Rick had come into their lives, but Morty wasn't relaxed like he would've been before, or even upset over having to listen to his parents' petty argument. No, he was ansty, fidgeting around enough to earn several annoyed glances from Summer.

He combed back through his memories, doubting whether he'd seen Rick today at all. He hadn't been at lunch or breakfast, in fact Morty hadn't seen him at all since their brief adventure yesterday, during which Rick had been in an increasingly foul mood. Had no one else even noticed his disappearance?

"I'm gonna check on Rick." He blurted out, stumbling off the sofa.

Summer didn't even spare him a glance.

He tried not to run down the hallway, nervous jitters going through his whole body. What if he had left again? No, probably not, Morty had seen his ship in the driveway. Shit– Rick had thousands of enemies, what if he was lying dead in his room right now?

Morty knocked on Rick's door so hard his knuckles stung a little, ignoring the small buzzing sound that accompanied the knocks. He heard a groan akin to one of a dying man and some shuffling from inside the room.

"Rick?" Morty called out to no answer, anxiety only rising.

He shifted nervously from foot to foot. If he just barged into Rick's room and he was fine Rick would be super pissed, but if he didn't and Rick was dying Morty would never forgive himself.

He shoved the door open. It didn't have a lock anymore. Morty held his breath as his eyes darted around the room, he feared it would look like a crime scene, but it looked... normal. He hadn't been in Rick's room that many times but, despite the darkness and slight mess, nothing seemed particularly out of place.

Well, that was, of course, apart from the translucent green force field type thing in front of the door.

He frowned, calling Rick's name again, but he was lying in his cot, facing the wall, unresponsive. Not even seeming like he'd heard Morty, the rise and fall of his tense shoulders the only thing showing he was still alive.

Morty chanced a careful touch to the force field, preparing for some kind of electric shock, but none came, only a quiet hum was emmited as Morty's fingers passed through. Rick moved again slightly, but other than that showed no visible reaction.

The field gave way easily and Morty passed though completely, standing meekly at the doorway of Rick's room. He was surprised to find that it was silent, like completely. No sound passed through the green barrier, not the sounds of sizzling pans, or the movie playing faintly in the background. Nothing.

"Rick? A-are you okay?" It wasn't said particularly loudly, but it felt that way in the complete silence.

No answer. He took a step closer, repeating himself louder, in case Rick just hadn't heard. "Rick? W-what's– is everything good?"

He expected anything, from Rick yelling at him to the person in the bed just being an alien wearing Rick's face, not even Rick himself.

He didn't expect Rick to cover his ears and curl into himself further.

"Uh-" Morty hesitated. His head hurt? Was he, like, hungover? Dying?

He only paused for a second more before turning and running out of the room, if something really was greviously wrong with Rick he would much rather be safe than sorry.

"Mom!" He called, running into the kitchen, interrupting the argument going on abruptly.

Beth downed a large sip of her wine glass, emptying it and setting it down on the counter with a sharp clink.

"Morty, honey, the adults are talking right now." She said, rubbing her temples tiredly.

"Mom, something's w-w-wrong with Rick."

"What?" That got Beth's attention, straightening from where she was topping off her wine once more. "What's wrong with Rick?"

"I don't know." Morty replied, agitated. "He's in his room just– just lying there, he's not answering me."

Beth was already heading in the direction of his room—not without grabbing her wine. "Come on, sweetie." She said to Morty.

"Wha- Beth, come on! We were having a conversation here!" Jerry exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I have more important things to deal with right now, Jerry." She said coldly.

Jerry's complaints were drowned out by Morty's rushing thoughts as he led Beth down the hall.

She peeked into the dark room without passing the noise-cancelling field, expression changing when she saw Rick curled into a ball, hands still clamped over his ears. While her frown stayed, a sort of realisation flashed in her eyes.

"Um, I think your grandpa just needs a little bit of alone time right now, okay? Let's give him some space." She said, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

"What? Why?"

"He just... Well, honestly, I don't know. I just vaguely remember he would get like this sometimes when I was a kid, when he was stressed. Mom always told me to just leave him alone for a while. I thought he'd probably grown out of it, like it was a midlife crisis thing or whatever. Guess not." She gave a small shrug.

That didn't really answer any of Morty's questions and raised several more, but Beth didn't seem to have the answers.

"Okay."

"Okay." Beth echoed, taking a swig of wine, her demeanour changing back to a bored one. "Well, I gotta go deal with Jerry now, go play video games, or something."

For the rest of that day, and then one more after that, Morty waited anxiously for Rick to emerge from his room. He felt like he was losing his mind, all while everyone else didn't even seem to care that Rick was gone at all.

He was picking at his pancakes uninterestedly when he finally caught a glimpse of blue hair in the hallway.

"Rick!" He exclaimed, making the old man nearly jump out of his skin.

"Jesus fucking christ, M-Morty." He muttered, grabbing some orange juice from the fridge and downing it straight from the carton.

"What happened?" Morty asked, getting up from the table and hovering by Rick. No one told him off for leaving the table. He could tell that they were all listening in on the conversation.

"What happened when?" Rick asked dismissively, playing dumb. He rummaged around in the overhead cupboard until he found an opened box of wafers. "What– who the fuck opened my wafers?"

Morty rolled his eyes. "You did, last week."

"Oh yeah." Rick shoved a wafer in his mouth.

"Rick, come on, seriously, I was worried."

"Well then maybe you should mind your own business, Morty."

Morty huffed. "What so you'd prefer I didn't care about you at all?"

"Yes. Obviously. Why does that surprise you? I've clearly stated it on multiple occasions."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I do care about you, Rick. I just want to make sure you're okay, because it seemed like you weren't" Morty said earnestly.

"Ugh, I'm fine, Morty." He scowled. "Don't be so– so weird about it."

"I'm weird?! Y-you're the weird one, Rick! Wh-what the hell is wrong with you? You just dissapear for– for two days and won't even tell me why? Can you give half a shit about anyone but yourself?"

"Jesus, I was overstimulated! O-okay? I'm autistic! Is that what you want to hear? You– you fucking dick."

Morty shook his head lightly, processing the stream of information "...What?"

"What? You can't be autistic." Jerry chimed in from the dining room.

"Okay, Jerry, and you won't be alive when I stuff your tiny dick in your mouth and freeze you, so we can put you on the mantle like some kind of fucked up decoration with your balls hanging out. Wait, actually, you will be alive. You'll feel the whole thing. Suuuper painful."

Rick snatched up Morty's virtually untouched stack of pancakes and sauntered out.

A quiet washed over the table, Morty looking over at Beth and seeing that she seemed just as surprised as him.

"What, you guys seriously didn't know?" Summer's bored voice broke through the silence.

"Y- you did?" Morty asked incredulously.

"Uh, duhh, Morty. It's like super obvious?" Summer drawled, not even looking up from whoever she was texting on her phone.

"How is it obvious?!"

"Becuase, Morty, I'm not uneducated like all of you guys."

"What? Wh-whatever, I'm just– I'm gonna go talk to him."

Summer didn't grace him with a response.

Morty peered into Rick's room but he wasn't there, so he wandered towards the garage. As he approached, he could already hear the sounds of Rick tinkering with something or other.

"H-hey, Rick." He said carefully, but Rick didn't seem particularly upset, offering Morty a small grunt in greeting.

"S-sorry I said there was something wrong with you." Morty added.

Rick looked up this time, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Okay?"

He went back to his project for a bit, but when Morty still didn't leave after several minutes he sighed, setting his wrench down harshly next to Morty's now half-eaten pancakes. "Yes, Morty?" He asked, irritated.

"I-I just... You could've told me, you know? That you're autistic. I'm not– you don't have to be, like... ashamed."

"Screw you, I'm not ashamed." Rick snapped. "L-look at me Morty, do you know how smart I am? You think any fucking neurotypical could ever reach my level of genius? Fuck no!"

He crossed his arms like a petulant child, pouting at the floor.

"Oh– Sorry." Morty stuttered. "I just thought..."

"What? That just because I'm autistic I have to be ashamed? Pretty ableist stuff there, Morty." Rick said sharply.

"No! Jeez, That's not– not what I meant, Rick. Jeez... I was gonna ask why you never t-talk about it, then?"

"Becuase it's none of y-your damn business, that's why."

"But– I mean, sure, but not even my mom knew. Did... did your wife? Did she know?"

Rick's shoulders tensed and he looked away, his loose grip on the table becoming harsher.

"R-rick?"

"She... knew." He said tightly.

"Did anyone else?" Morty made his tone a little gentler, seeing Rick wasn't exactly thrilled to talk about it.

"...Birdperson. And Squanchy."

"That's– no one else?"

Rick frowned. "My parents knew. But they didn't like it... Diane– my wife she was the first person I chose to tell myself."

"I'm sorry." Morty said quietly. "About your parents and... Diane."

Rick sat silently, staring at the work bench in front of him without saying a word.

"Is that... why you guys divorced, or?"

"No, Morty, jesus." Rick huffed. "She was actually the only one that didn't treat me like less than because of it. I mean, until BP and Squanch."

"So why–?"

"I don't want to talk about my failed marriage, M-morty." Rick sighed.

"...Sorry."

Rick shrugged.

Silence stretched on as Rick went back to his project again, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either.

"It's embarrasing. Sometimes." Rick said haltingly. "When I get overstimulated. Becuase I know that doesn't happen to normal people and I don't like admitting I need help with things that other people don't. It's a sign of weakness."

"That's not–!"

"Shut the fuck up, Morty. This isn't a discussion, you got what you wanted out of me, so now you can fuck off."

"But, Rick you–"

"Morty, just fuck the fuck off."

Morty hesitated for a second, before lunging towards Rick and trapping him in a tight hug. Rick tensed up.

"Morty, you little shit, get off me!" Rick wriggled, trying to get out of Morty's embrace.

"I love you, grandpa. Thank you for opening up to me, I know it's hard for you." Morty whispered, which only made Rick thrash around harder. "I don't think you're weak, by the way. Or that there's anything wrong with you."

Morty finally pulled away from the hug and Rick crossed his arms again, his face now a little flushed in embarrasment.

"Don't do that again, you asshole." He grumbled. "I don't like it when you hug me."

"Sorry." Morty said, mostly meaning it. "Hugs always make me feel a lot better."

"Well I'm not you, Morty, and they m-m-make me uncomfortable."

"Sorry." He repeated. "But I-I still mean everything I said."

Rick pouted, turning away. Morty knew Rick was stubborn, and that he wasn't going to erase years of self-hatred and internalised ableism in a few minutes, but he hoped that one day Rick let him in enough to at least try.

"Okay, bye grandpa. Love you."

"Bye, asshole." Rick muttered back.

Love you too he thought, but didn't say.

+ extra

Rick had been in a shitty mood all day, and Morty could tell something was brewing under the surface, but he couldn't tell what until they were already on their way back home from grabbing some crystals from some drug planet Rick stole from all the time.

Usually Rick would be in high spirits after another succesful crystal-stealing mission, but today he just glared through the windshield, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Morty could tell that, despite his intense stare, he wasn't really paying too much attention, so it wasn't a huge shock when an large asteroid chunk flew into their field of vision and Rick didn't even try to swerve.

They crashed into the asteroid hard and an alarm started blaring, red rays flashing in the interior of the spaceship. Rick's hands flew over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Morty had seen this alarm go off several times, due to Rick's often reckless driving, and it usually didn't bother Rick very much at all, not warranting more than a curse and flipping the alarm off annoyedly.

Rick bit down on his knee hard as Morty hurried to shut down the alarm, Rick's hands moving into his hair and tugging when it was finally switched off.

Rick had a tendancy to hurt himself when he was overstimulated and it made Morty endlessly anxious. He searched desperately in the backseat for the noise cancelling headphones he'd given Rick and "forced him to wear" as Rick would say, but Morty could tell he appreciated it. Especially when he snatched them out of Morty's hands before he'd barely even handed them to him, shoving them onto his head agressively and clicking the button he'd added himself for improved noise cancellation, claiming the headphones were trash and that he'd had to modify them to make them at all a useful tool.

He slumped back in his chair with a sigh, his eyes were still shut but Morty could see the tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

"Do you want me to drive us back?" Morty asked, barely finishing the sentance before Rick was hitting the button that switched their chairs around so Morty would be in front of the wheel. Morty let out a small exclamation of surprise, but quickly took the wheel, putting the ship back on track.

Rick didn't say anything else for the short journey home, jumping out of the ship before it was even parked properly. Morty hurried to keep up with him as he unlocked the door. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the entryway and Morty almost crashed into him, managing to stop himself just in time.

"Thank you." Rick said gruffly, not giving Morty time to respond and just rushing off to his room.

Morty still smiled, though. He knew that was about as close as it got to his grandpa expressing affection.

"Love you too, Rick."

---

THE END IM CHEESEY OK I KNOW SORRY BYE

[layniapetrovnaaa]

Rick Sanchez x Reader

I really want to make this a series but we all know how I do with those so for now it will remain a single fic sadly. also I need to stop making edits when I’m high cause I’m making inconsistencies lmaooo lemme just sit on my hands fr

Warnings: muchhh older man/younger woman, language, drugs, alcohol, underage substance abuse, flirting? Idk if I missed any lmk

Word count: 2.2k

***

It had been a warm fall day when the sun was shining earlier. The kind of day that makes you dread the start of school and appreciate the beauty of summer transforming into autumn. Only a few short hours later, as the sun was already starting to set much sooner, the stars had come out and the warm day turned into a brisk night. The cool and zipping breeze was just a little too much for your bare arms and legs as you cruised casually down the bumpy street on your bike. Headphones in, off in outer space, the street lights flashing over your head along with the beat. It lulls you further into your daydreams and anxieties until you reach your destination: Summer Smith's end-of-summer house party. Should be a blast. You couldn't say the party scene wasn't your thing– cause it definitely is– but you weren't one to go dancing on tables and taking your top off (at least not at this sorta thing). Parties like these were for you to sell and do free drugs, maybe occasionally getting some head. The latter had not been the case lately and for the past month you had been celibate, a bit unlike you. Not one to give up the cookie too easily, you liked to have your partner work for it. Rather nothing than let some dumb teenage boy try to have his way with you.

You fix your hair up a little from the wind and take out your headphones after you dismount the red bicycle and hide it as best you can in the bushes on the side of the house. You would have heard the music bumping two doors down had you not been in the moment with your own playlist. To your pleasant surprise, the music booming from the house wasn't terrible. It gave you a little hope this party wouldn't be as shitty as you thought. If the music's good it's difficult for you to have a bad time. Mix it with a lot of vodka, a lot of weed, and something to snort– that's a party.

The front door is already open when you make your way over so you head to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink.

You hear someone call your name and turn to see Morty pushing his way over to you.

“H-hey! How’s uhh how’s it goin?” he finally gets out and smiles sincerely at you. It was no secret that Morty had a small crush on you, but it was also no secret that he felt that way about all of Summer's friends, so it didn't phase you.

“Heyyy. What's up, Morty?” you lazily smile back, your muscles relaxed from the weed. You had eaten a few edibles earlier in the night and they hadn't started to kick in until you were riding over.

“O-oh, you know, j-just tryna enjoy the party…I guess.” he chuckles nervously and rubs his neck.

“Whattt? You're not having fun?”

“What?! NO– I mean yeah of course I'm having fun, I just, I don't know. Parties make me nervous sometimes I guess.” He chuckles awkwardly again.

“Go smoke a joint and feel better, man.” you pat his shoulder and walk away. Normally you liked chatting with Morty but he was kinda bummin you out and you just got there. Maybe later he could cry on your shoulder. You did feel a little bad brushing him off like that but the kid needed to learn to live a little.

After two drinks you decide it's time to roll up and while you are, someone offers you a line, which you gladly take.

“You wanna do some real shit?” Summer leans in and whispers to you, and you can't help but return the shit-eating grin she has on her face.

She leads you to the garage and the thumping music softens only to be replaced by the sound of summer rummaging through cabinets and storage bins and a victorious “AH-HA” once she finds whatever it is she's looking for. She holds the two radiant fuchsia crystals up to you and you give her a suspicious look. Your brow not falling until she proclaims with a smirk.

“Alien drugs, bitch. It's called k-lax and it's gonna rock your world.”

“At least I hope it does.” She adds dubiously and begins turning the crystals into powder.

“How did you even get alien drugs anyways?” you ask as she starts forming two lines of the brightly colored powder. Your eyes scan the garage and notice it's filled with what looks like more alien stuff and different gadgets. Maybe that was a dumb question.

“My grampas like-” she does her line and sniffs a little. “-like a biggg space nerd or whatever with crazyyy substance issues.”

You nod and switch spots with her, your turn, and damn did that shit burn. This better be worth it, you rub your nose a few times.

You had seen Summers' grandpa a few times when you were back in school. He'd come to pick them up multiple times in the very way he was currently entering the room. Crazy things had happened in the last few years, you'd quickly made your piece with otherworldly shit long ago, a green blob was nothing. That's not to say when it did just loudly and brightly appear behind you that you weren't a little startled.

“Oh shit.” Summer states flatly as a result of her drunkenness.

“Is that my fuckin k-lax, Summer?!” he roars, both feet not even past the green. You feel your body start to get tingly and you're almost certain it's the crystal at work. The portal that let in the old man begins to swirl around him, seeming to permeate the air and turn into a fog. The high was taking over and everything else became void. You reach out to touch the gas and as you do it starts to change color. The two others in the room were forgotten. An argument (if you could call it that) is raging next to you and poor summer is barely hanging on. Her high ruined by that spikey-haired asshole. Fuuuck I need to paint this briefly flashed in your brain but the sensation was too overwhelming. Each spot you touched was a new color and each color felt different.

The tingling sensation had heightened and felt like a nicotine buzz on steroids. To be quite frank it was close to orgasmic. But the colorsss. Did they each smell different? Taste different? You had to know. You had to be in it. You could somehow feel your soul in those colors. So incredibly lost in the way they twisted and turned and blended into each other. The fog was almost more smokey now. You take a deep breath in and it smells almost sweet but earthy, not floral. It's an odd mix, completely unfamiliar but not unlikeable. You feel the tingles start to leave with your breath as you exhale. Rapidly declining with each breath you take. The smoke– or fog disappearing with it.

“God, I neeed to do that again.” you slowly turn to look at summer. Your head, eyes, arms, and backpack all felt so heavy.

“It’s Rick, actually, and that’ll be at leeeast 50 flurbos.”

Were you still high? You blink a few times and look up at your friend's grandpa.

The old man eyes you up and down, lingering around your chest. Normally, you would have some quick-witted response to his somewhat pervy gaze and dick-ish response but the combination of substances was mixing just as you had planned. Everything had become deliciously fuzzy. “Shut up!” you blurt out. It seemed that a glance and your dimwitted response were all he needed.

“Get this bitch out of my garage. Now, Summer!” He growls the last part and goes over to the workbench, plopping himself down on the chair and swiping a finger over the crystal residue. His eyes close and he hums quietly when he brings the finger to his tongue. “Good shit.” He says under his breath but quickly after swiveling the chair around to look at Summer.

“You OWE me.” he shoots and swivels back, immediately tinkering with something on the desk.

You finally stop staring at the older man (which you didn't even realize you were doing) and turn to Summer silently asking if you two were going to listen to him. She groans loudly and starts to exit the garage back into the teen-infested kitchen. Taking one last look back into the garage, you follow her and slam the door behind you– which you really didn't mean to do– but you also couldn't be paid to care.

Your night carries on. You take a few more shots, hit your pen a few times, and soon enough your body is taking control and letting your brain take the back seat. You danced around a little, drank some more, and made out with a black-haired beauty. Before you knew it you had crashed and fell asleep on the small and kind of uncomfortable patio furniture outside.

When you awoke it was with a chill, the temperatures had dropped to the low 50s that night and all you had on was a hoodie you stole from summer's room. The cold was not what had woken you up, however, and it was the second time you had been started by the green portal. You sit up, keeping an eye on the portal and the man who is now coming through it while also feeling around the bench for your pack of cigarettes and your lighter. His eyes set on you.

“Are you the bitch that stole my k-lax with Summer last night?” You perk up and focus your attention on just the old man who is now right in front of you, partially only because you had already found the cigarettes.

“Yeah and stop calling me a bitch.”

“Well, when you're worthy of another title I'll change it.”

You roll your eyes and ignore him, telling him your name and he gives his back.

“I thought it was god?” you say in a mock tone, still searching for your lighter.

"Surprised you can even remember that."

He fishes in his pocket and pulls one out for you as he sits next to you on the bench, sliding his thumb over the spark wheel to ignite the flame and holding it to the end of your cig. Mumbling a thank you, you offer him one and he takes it and lights it. The bit of tension that you felt between the two of you had dissipated, at least on your end. I mean you were the one with the real transgression, but something tells you that the scientist wouldn't have accepted the smoke if he was that upset with you and/or his granddaughter. You can feel him watching you as you both take a drag and you want to turn to him and ask what about you is so fascinating to him but you don't. You keep staring straight ahead and it's silent and awkward for a minute but then he speaks up.

“How old are you?” he flicks the butt of the cig to make the ashes fall, sniffles a little, and looks back at you. You take another drag before doing the same.

“I’m 19. My birthday was last week.”

You see something in his eyes change as you turn to look at him and say your age. It's almost an icky feeling but more so it makes you curious and so of course you quickly turn away to look back at the grass.

“The fuck you doin' at a high school party then? Shouldn't you be in college?”

“It’s still summer.” You defend.

“Fair enough.” He takes a drag.

“I but I dunno. I started late I guess? I just graduated this past June.” You shrug. “These kinda things aren't really my usual gig I’ll admit that but these kids are dumb and will buy pot for way too much money.” You take a final hit from the cigarette and drop it on the pavement, squishing it under your sneaker.

“These kids? You just graduated.” He deadpans and you can't help but chuckle a little, understanding how that probably does sound kind of ridiculous coming from your mouth.

“I just mean I come to these things to stay caught up, maybe distract myself a little but mostly to take advantage of rich kids.”

“Sounds kinda shady.” He burps and pulls a flask from his jacket pocket, taking a sip, but keeping the metal container in his hand he starts again. “I mean no judgment, I do the same thing just, you know, higher scale.” He offers you the flask and you take it.

“Well shit, I'd love to go with you sometime.” you take a sip from the flask and you weren't entirely sure what you were expecting but it wasn't that. You cough and sputter and try to regain some composure so as to not make a fool of yourself but it seems it's too late.

“Oh my god, what was that?! Everclear?!” you continue to wheeze and Rick looks too amused. You start to finally get yourself together and he stands.

“Maybe don't get too ahead of yourself, sweetcheeks.” Your ears perk up at the new nickname.

“What happened to bitch?” you smirk.

“I can easily change it back, don't get used to it.”

He walks towards the sliding doors and pulls it open, heading inside and leaving you out there again. Alone.

[basementdwellerrick]

[star-girl-05]

Night, Baby

Rick Sanchez x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

“Shit” he cursed as he tripped while trying to take his shoes off. It was two am, and Rick was piss drunk. He was trying to be quiet not wanting to wake you but he was failing miserably. 

“Rick” your voice is thick with sleep. You could barely make out his figure in the darkness. 

“Sorry Baby” he grumbled, peeling off more of his clothes before slipping into bed.  His body curls around your, arms wrapping around your waist while he nuzzles your neck with his nose.

“Ugh Rick you reek of booze”, you love Rick especially when he gets like this. All sweet and cuddly but you seriously can’t sleep when he reeks like this. 

“Baby” Rick groans

“You're going to have to rinse off or sleep somewhere else.” he grumbles before he slips out of bed quickly rinsing off. You're almost asleep when he comes back getting into his original position, his wet hair sending a chill down your back. 

“Better?”

“Yeah much better” you turn your head slightly, placing a kiss on his lips. “Night, Love” 

“Night Baby” placing a kiss on your neck

[sadiecoocoo]

Im glad that everyone loves this scrunkly old man but can we please get more fan content for Morty, like yeah there’s a lot already… but it’s not enough…

I’ve scoured all of ao3, any possible tag that could help me find it has been searched, and I’m still trying to find more whump fics abt Morty… there are some but not a lot :/

It’s also kinda annoying that a lot of ppl don’t use the whump tag cuz it’s not as well known as the others like “angst” or “hurt/comfort.” And like yeah I could go for some angst… but I need them to be tortured and half lucid and bleeding out and going through immense pain as someone is terrified that the whumper is gonna die and is threatening the whumpee… and you don’t always get that with “hurt/comfort” cuz emotional hurt is a thing

SOMEONE GIVE ME MORE MORTY WHUMP WHERE RICK IS YELLING AT WHOEVER IS HURTING HIM AND PLOTTING THE MOST PAINFUL DEATH IMAGINABLE FOR THE JACK ASS THAT DARED TO HURT HIS GRANDSON

[astr0morty]

just cooked up a r&m fic instead of studying!! woohoo!

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Memories

A short, sad bit of Birdrick. I actually wrote this a while back for the 'jealousy' prompt for Birdrick week before forgetting about it. 😅

Summary: While waiting at the Plimplom Tavern after turning himself in, Rick remembers a time from his and Birdperson's past. ~1k words

Warnings for masturbation, porn, and canon typical alcoholism. It's not smut, but it is explicit.

Rick blinks hazy, weary eyes, trying to straighten his vision. He manages, for the briefest of moments, to simplify it to double rather than quadruple before the images spill into each other again. The photo in his hand should be burnt into his parietal lobe with all the time he’s been staring at it, but although his eyes may be on the picture, his mind isn’t. His mind, just as it has been since that damned egg-vite arrived, is replaying old memories, dredging up feelings that have been stagnating for the better part of four decades. Plenty of it is well-trodden territory, thoughts that surface any time he lets his mind idle too long or allows his sobriety to outstay its welcome. Much of them can be dampened or even banished entirely with sufficiently high blood alcohol content. However, the more his mind strays from the beaten path, the more it digs up abandoned graves, ones that have long been overgrown, as well as those that are so new the earth is still fresh above.

The oldest memory he’s contending with is of a fling from back in the early days of the band, when most of their time had been spent getting high, partying, and having sex with strangers. Nothing out of the ordinary for a group of friends. All of them had brought hook-ups back to the glorified squat they called home every now and then, some more frequently than others. Rick remembers one night in particular where he’d decided - completely of his own accord and for no other reason - that he wasn’t going to bring anyone home that night. As he’d been leaving, he’d stumbled upon a couple who, judging by their position against the wall and the still burning cigarette discarded at their feet, had decided to cut out the middle man in their spit sharing. Normally, he wouldn’t have given them more than a passing glance, but one member of the couple had caught his eye. 

Birdperson.

It hadn’t been a surprise. After all, he’d been the one most desperate to get out that particular night. 

For a few weeks prior, all Rick had noticed was that he’d been slightly more energetic than usual and that he’d been spending a lot of time in the shower, despite the fact that the water had failed to be so much as lukewarm for even a single day since they’d moved in. When Squanchy brought the subject up at breakfast one day, Birdperson had explained his species’ reproductive cycle in very matter-of-fact terms, and Rick hadn’t thought about it too much more after that. 

At least, not until he’d been lying awake that night, unable to sleep, and had wandered into the living room to find Birdperson sitting alert on the couch, intently watching porn. Birdperson’s gaze had flickered to him and Rick had taken several seconds to choke out an answer to the unspoken question.

“C-couldn’t sleep.”

He’d joined Birdperson on the couch and they’d watched together, just like the three of them frequently did. Only this time, it wasn’t the three of them. Rick hadn’t thought that would make a difference, but it had. If he didn’t pay attention to the video, the atmosphere was chokingly thick and he felt acutely aware of every miniscule movement and positioning of his body. He could almost feel the gravity between him and Birdperson, and he struggled desperately against its effects while also trying not to make it obvious what he was doing. He tried to focus on the porn instead, but the images of naked birdpeople, horny and begging for release, did nothing to ease the tension. When Squanchy was there, they were just some guys watching porn, occasionally making a smartass comment or giving an appreciative cheer. Without him, the activity felt silent and intimate.

Eventually, the video had ended and Rick had retreated back to his room while Birdperson headed to the bathroom for, presumably, yet another cold shower. Rick felt further from sleep than ever, his body jittery and wired and horny. He reached a hand down to take care of business, his thoughts full of mating season and the desperate, innate need he’d seen onscreen. Somewhere at the back of his mind - although not far back enough for Rick’s tastes - he thought about the moment he’d shared with Birdperson, about the fact that they were both undoubtedly filling the same need right now, the other man naked and slippery in the shower, thrusting into his own hand in a way that would never be enough to satisfy the burning need he felt.

He’d spent the next hour trying to convince himself that the powerful, intense orgasm that had rocked his body had nothing to do with the subject of his thoughts.

As time had progressed, Birdperson’s instincts had only grown stronger, and he’d often disturb them at odd hours with heavy footsteps and strange, almost songlike noises. He would grow increasingly frenetic if he stayed inside or went without flying for too long. He seemed to live almost exclusively for the opportunity to hook up, and no amount of sex seemed to quell his insatiable thirst.

However, something about seeing Birdperson had still caught him off guard.

Finally, he realised it wasn’t so much that Birdperson was hooking up, it was who he was hooking up with. 

Another birdperson.

It was relatively rare for them to come across another member of Birdperson’s species, but that wasn’t what the source of the surprise was either.

Then it clicked.

It was the way they fit each other perfectly, the way the other birdperson’s hands ran over Birdperson’s skin and feathers with an intuitive knowledge of how to please him. The sort of satisfaction he could only get from a member of his own species. Something Rick could never hope to achieve.

The thought jolted Rick out of his spiral and he became aware of a hot, spiky feeling rising between his stomach and his heart. He’d never been particularly good at identifying his own emotions, but he knew that this was one he was too sober for right now. He turned and strode back into the club.

When he left for the second time, half an hour and several double vodkas later, the couple was gone.

[starrbitez]

I love writing down my fic notes bc i literally just expel my stream of consciousness sness

[mx-pastelwriting]

Can you pls do a c-137 x reader smut I really love rich Sanchez smuts they are just so much more interesting to me! If you can of course:)

Rick Sanchez x GN! Reader

Summary: Request up top!

Warnings: Smut, Rough Hands, Established Relationship, Handjob

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 2

Minors do not interact!

Sitting on Rick's garage counter, you watched closely as Rick's hands tinkered with the small device he was building. You couldn't remember why he needed it, as his long tangent was blocked out because your attention was on him and not his words. His hands worked the device roughly, making a wave rush through your body.

Your thoughts couldn't help but venture off into your memories of the endless night he had used his hands to work on something that wasn't anything but you. "Y/n, did you hear me?" Breaking your horny daze, Rick's warm hand was placed on your thigh, making you rub your legs together, hoping he would notice and throw you on your bed.

"No, sorry, what is it?" His face dropped, not with disappointment; you couldn't read him, but his actions spoke for themselves. His hand traveled up your thigh, making your breath shake. "Rick." Your whisper of his name earned a low moan from him. He threw everything he had in his hands and kissed your neck, wanting to tease your heated skin. Though his hand spoke differently, squeezing your thigh roughly before pulling them apart and letting himself between them. His hands don't stop; they make their way under your shirt, only then stopping to play with your nipple.

You had no reason to bite back your moans about the garage door being closed and the family out of the house, but you couldn’t help but bite your lip. His kisses devoured you as he pulled you against his cock, which was fighting against his pants.

As he smirked, feeling his cock shiver against you, your hands traveled down, palming him. His growl vibrated against your skin, making you gasp. His hips grinding, looking for release, "Rick" you whimpered again as the heated friction made you both squirm. You find your way to his button, undoing it before sticking your hand into his pants. His moans don't take long to run against your skin as you take his throbbing cock in your warm hand.

By moving his pants down a bit with your other hand, you free his cock. You slowly but firmly move your hand, causing him to hold onto you with his head in your neck, littering your neck with colors. You move faster than he does, and as he groans and his body squirms, you stop, leaving him at the edge of his climax. He could never last when you were in control. His moan grows more hoarse as you focus on his socked tip. You'd leave him to clean up the mess his pre-cum had made on the floor.

"Y/N" He moaned his hips moving with your hand, "Go ahead, cum for me, Rick." You whisper in his ear. His tight hold onto your hip, the other onto your thigh; the temptation of tricking him into thinking you would let him cumming. The sight would have been of his body going weak as he begs you, but if you continued, he would have made you see stars.

Holding his cock more firmly, you move faster than his hips. His moans fill the garage as his cum covers your hand, and you praise him as he catches his breath in your neck. His whimper of your name fills your ear as his hips slow, letting himself take over his climax.

The familiar sound of the front door opening, traveling to the garage, you smirk before getting him a kiss on the cheek and pulling yourself from the counter. Using a hand towel on the table to whip off your hand. You exit the garage, leaving Rick with his own mess, being pleased with what you had made, not caring for your own end.

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 2

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

[conanssummerchild]

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that