#rick and morty x you

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 26: Sex in public

Fandom: Rick and Morty

Character: Rick Sanchez

Warnings: public sex, biting

Neither of you were thinking much of your actions and you really doubted anyone would even care, it's not like you two were on Earth. Where this type of shit was frowned upon.

No you were positive at least somewhere someone was getting fucked as good as you were.

A mewl escaping your lips, one leg hiked up on his hips as he continued to thrust into your warmth as his neck was buried in your hair.

Your back pressed against the ship as various species of aliens walked by.

Rick's cock buried deep in your pussy, his teeth biting and sucking at the skin. Your fingers ranking through his hair begging, crying out.

"Shit, so fuckin needy...couldn't even fuckin wait." his voice muffled as a free hand slipped under your shirt letting his thumb rubbing over your nipple, squeezing your breast.

A cry tore from your lips, heads turning into your direction as you did your best to match his thrusts not caring that people were staring. Rick not paying no mind as his thumb rubbed your clit letting you ride out your orgasm.

He could feel your nails digging in your skin, feel your walls clenching tightly around his cock.

He wasn't done with you....far from it.

He was going to fuck you until you could no longer scream.

It's not like it mattered anyways, you two weren't on Earth.

[thelostconsultant]

A life well lived

pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader

summary: Max has been in love with Charles's twin since they met as kids. When he finally has the chance to tell you how he feels years later, it turns out you feel the same. A wonderful life is ahead of the two of you, and Max couldn't love you and your son more.

note: 9k words + sm posts. I love them so much, I can barely put it into words. I hope you'll like this.

Whenever he was on the track, Max was competitive, and he didn’t lack the confidence he needed to win races. But he wasn’t the only one, Charles was equally good, and he also had everything a great driver needed to succeed. So the two of them naturally became rivals, the greatest of their generation, and despite their hate towards each other, Max couldn’t help but respect him deep down. 

Throughout the years, he got to learn everything about him on and off the track, so he knew about his siblings. And he was painfully aware of his twin sister being there with him at every race, the sweet, lively girl who always had a bright smile on her face as she talked to her relatives. Every single time he laid his eyes on you, he wished he was the one you were talking to, he wished you would finally say more than just a brief hello or goodbye. 

Whenever he did well in the race, Max liked to think your smiles and cheers were meant for him alone. They were always meant for your brother though, he knew that, but his stupid teenage brain assumed the fact you briefly glanced at him while smiling meant you would get married one day. That you were madly in love with him too, that you were yearning for his company just as much as he was. 

If it was up to him, he would have talked to you. He wanted to learn more about you, he wanted to be near you, he wanted to experience the innocent love only a teenager could feel, but how could he do that under his father's strict control? He couldn't even play football on the weekends, how could he have a girlfriend? And then there was Charles who was already giving him death glares whenever they met, if he found out Max had a thing for his sister, who knows what he would have done. It was better not to risk a possible fist fight it would end with.

So he was destined to watch you from afar, letting his imagination run wild to cope with the pain he felt for not being able to talk to you. In his mind you were sitting next to him on top of a large crate, asking various questions to pass the time, giggling and feet dangling as you listened to him. His brain fed him with the image of you running up to him to hug him after the race, your bright smile being a much better prize than the trophy he had left on the ground.

And then he and Charles ended up in different series, meaning you weren’t there at his races anymore. His race weekends became much colder and emptier, he decided to focus solely on racing, pushing every single thought related to you to the back of his mind. He kept an eye on his rival, of course, he needed to know how he performed, if he was still good enough to one day catch up to him. He also wanted to know if you were still following him around like a shadow, if you still stood next to him on countless photos that he would later share on social media. He just wanted to see you, to know you were okay. 

His mother was the only one who figured out he had a little crush on you. She noticed him staring at photos of you, and she was kind enough to start a conversation about you, giving him the chance to finally give someone a speech about how special you were to him, how nice you were to everyone, how pretty you were, and how much he wished he could talk to you. He didn’t even know why he told her everything without feeling embarrassed, but maybe he was just grateful to have the opportunity to get it off his chest after all those years. His mother told him to find you on social media and send you a message, after all that’s what those were made for. 

But he didn’t do it. His confidence was usually nowhere to be found when it came to you, and even now all he could think about was making a fool of himself. What if you said no? What if you told your brother and he would reappear in his life to give him hell for making a move on you? He didn’t want to risk that, so he just returned to watching you from afar. Sad and lonely, with the kind of pain in his heart that couldn’t be healed so easily. 

When he made it into F1, Max had a new challenge to face, and his head was always in the races, this cutthroat world forcing him to focus more than ever before. He knew it was only a matter of time before your brother debuted in the series as well, he just had to be patient and wait for it to happen, and once it did, you would be back in his life. So he waited and pushed himself, eventually winning his first race, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you saw him, if you were proud of him. 

But then one day he noticed that you suddenly disappeared from social media, all of your accounts were deleted, and he began to panic. Seeing your posts–even though he didn’t follow you–was always the highlight of his day, so what was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to know what was happening in your life? And to make things worse, you were studying abroad, he didn’t have the chance to accidentally bump into you on the streets of Monaco. 

And then it happened. Charles finally caught up with him and joined F1. Max couldn’t have been happier. For one, he finally got his rival back, even a rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins at the thought of continuing their competition, and two, you would surely be back in the paddock. Maybe not at every race, but you would without doubt show up every now and then. So he began to count back the days to the first race of that season, having a feeling that you would not miss it, and then he spent the remaining time checking your family’s social media accounts to see if they shared any new photos of you.

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 245,175 others

charles_leclerc: I want to say thank you to my team and my family for the support. It was a great first race with a decent result. I missed my baby sister though, she used to be my lucky charm.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

arthur_leclerc: Not bad.

pascale.leclerc.355: I'm so proud of you!

yourusername: What baby? I'm literally half an hour younger. That's not the baby category, you muppet.

⤷ charles_leclerc: You're a baby to me.

⤷ arthur_leclerc: You kinda are.

⤷ yourusername: Shut up, fetus.

⤷ charles_leclerc: And muppet? You spend too much time in London. Come back home.

⤷ yourusername: No.

You were back on Instagram apparently, and he had never tapped on a link faster before. His heart was racing from the excitement, expecting to see a bunch of photos of you, ones he hadn’t seen before, but to his disappointment, it was private. He couldn’t send you a request, he didn’t want you to know he was interested in your posts, and it was killing Max, because he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms by now. With your brother being back, he felt like that stupid kid again, which despite your absence came with the crushing feeling of a one-sided love he’d been suffering from for all those years.

Time passed, and he was just waiting and waiting, hoping one day you would show up, but you didn’t. There were posts on your family’s accounts, and you were glowing on every single photo, apparently having a happy life in London. He wondered if you were in a relationship. Did you have a special someone waiting for you? The thought of you being taken was devastating, because in his mind you were his, he truly believed that you were destined to be together.

[Nice to meet you, where you been?]

2023. He had to wait until the 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix to finally have you at a race. 

It all started with a burner account he created years ago to keep an eye on the posts from your family and other people connected to them. Just to see if they had any new content about you without the risk of accidentally liking a photo with his real account. It’s not stalking. It’s not bad. Well, not that bad. So that day he checked the posts in the morning while he got ready to leave, and he saw a post from Alexandra that the two of you were having breakfast together before heading out to the track to see your brother. 

His stomach did a flip, his heart rate jumped, and he suddenly felt like throwing up from the anxiety. He had always imagined this day would be easy. He catches you in the paddock, just “accidentally” bumping into you, greets you with a big, friendly smile with a short comment about how long it’s been, and he tells you how proud you must be of your brother. And then maybe they would have to talk about Charles for a while, but once you eased into the conversation, he could start to shift the conversation to you. How are you? Why haven’t you been to his races? Are you seeing anyone? If not, would you like to have dinner with him? 

But now that it was time to actually do this, he felt sick from the thought. He couldn’t do it, he didn’t feel confident enough to talk to you. It felt like he had traveled back in time, turning into a nervous, awkward kid again. How stupid did he have to be to assume you would be interested? Sure, he and Charles didn’t hate each other on a cellular level these days, they could tolerate each other, but they were still each other’s biggest rivals, so why would you be with him? 

Since it was sprint day, Max decided to focus on his job, but when he caught a glimpse of you as you celebrated your brother’s sprint qualifying win, he knew it was a futile attempt. You didn’t even look at him, even though he watched you for a few seconds with a stupid smile on his face and went over to congratulate Charles, which resulted in a kicked puppy feeling. The sprint race wasn’t any better, his head wasn’t really in it, but at least he could see you again. But then, just as he once again watched you with a smile, your eyes locked with his and you smiled back. Unlike back in the day, now he was sure this smile was meant for him. 

He got drunk on this lovely feeling, and as pathetic as it probably was, he found himself lingering around the Ferrari motorhome after the interviews and the debrief. There would be photos and rumors, he was aware of that, but he had to see you. He had to give himself the chance to say hello, to see if you were also interested, if you were willing to talk to him. Deep down he hoped you would be looking at him starry-eyed, giggling like you used to, your bubbly personality coming to the surface as you talked. 

Then he saw you step out on your own, looking around hesitantly as you probably tried to figure out where to go. You looked lost, but Max was more than happy to offer his services as a tour guide, so he walked over to you and stopped with a small smile on his face. “Need help?” he asked.

You turned to look at him with a surprised look, but then your features softened and you flashed the bright smile he missed so much at him. “I’m looking for the exit.”

“I can show you the way,” he offered, and he was surprised to see you quickly nod in response. As you began to walk in the right direction, Max’s brain worked in overdrive to figure out what to talk about, but in the end all he managed to come up with was a trivial question about why you were leaving on your own. 

“I came with Alex, but now she’s going back to the hotel with Charles. I figured I could take a look around the city before dinner, so I won’t wait for them,” you replied as you pushed your sunglasses up to the top of your head.

This was his best chance to ask you out, he knew that, which is why he let out a low hum with his hands behind his back as if he seriously had to think about it. “I can show you around if you’d like. And I know a really good restaurant, one that’s not the crowded fancy kind,” he said as he glanced over at you. 

He didn’t miss the way you blushed at the thought and he had to do his damn best to prevent a proud, cocky smile from appearing on his face. You clearly liked him, you were interested, what more could he wish for? After all those years here he was with you on his side, having a real conversation without your brother’s murderous looks, and on top of it all, he had the courage to ask you out on a date. Because he could tell you knew it would be a date, otherwise you wouldn’t be this shy all of a sudden.

Max came to a halt and gently put a hand on your arm to stop you. “I promise I won’t bite. Come on, just say yes,” he tried. 

“All right, let's do this.”

A wide smile appeared on his face upon hearing this. “Great. Let's get my stuff then we can leave.”

His fingers slowly slid down from your elbow to your hand so he could take it, pulling you after him as he took a sharp turn and headed to the Red Bull motorhome with you by his side. When you were finally on your way out for real, it was you who reached out for his hand, the contact making him involuntary blush. It made you both nervous, unsure of what this meant, but it still felt so natural, like you've been tied to the other by some invisible string.

The two of you spent the following hours walking around the city, with him telling you interesting details he had picked up throughout the years, and you listened to him talk with shining eyes, accompanied by a big smile that sometimes temporarily made him forget how to speak. It was new, it was exciting, and he could have sworn it was just the two of you in the city that night. His eyes always found their way to your face, taking in every little detail as if he hadn’t studied it before as a kid or on the pictures he saw on social media. 

When it was quite late, he took you back to the hotel you were staying in, but neither of you felt like saying goodbye just yet. For a minute or two you were just standing there in silence, waiting for the other to say something, to say what you both had on your mind out loud. He was the first to break under the sweet pressure, all because you nervously bit on your lower lip, a move that drew an almost animalistic growl out of him before he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss. 

You didn’t hesitate to return it, getting so lost in it that your hands moved up to his neck, gently pulling him closer as if it was even possible. He only broke the kiss to let his lips pepper small kisses across your face, using this opportunity to tell you something that had been on his mind ever since you agreed to come with him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered to you, his nose pressing against the shell of your ear. 

“A whole twelve hours?” you asked with a delicate little giggle. 

He leaned back to look you in the eye, his big palm resting on your flushed cheek as he flashed a playful smile at you. “More like twelve years,” he corrected you. Your eyes grew wide from surprise, pupils still blown, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss on the tip of your nose. “What can I say, I had a crush on my biggest rival’s sister. And I still have to this day.”

Gulping, you watched him in silence for a while, a reaction that made him worry. Did he say something wrong? He was terrified of the thought of you letting go of him and disappearing behind the entrance of the hotel, leaving him behind for good. But before he could get lost in this spiral, you kissed his chin and went, “Well, I might have had a crush on a stupid blond boy with his stupid blue eyes too. But he never talked to me and I was warned to keep a safe distance from him,” you added. 

This made him kiss you again, and this time he didn’t hold back. He couldn’t care less about standing out on the street where everyone could see him, he couldn’t worry about photos emerging of the two of you. He wanted to claim you as his, making you understand that fate brought you together again, and if he had to do this in front of your damn hotel, then he was more than happy to do it right there with an audience. 

Your safe little bubble was burst by the constant buzzing of your phone, soon followed by the ringtone, and while he wished you would just ignore it, you swore under your breath and quickly answered it. You were speaking with someone in French, upset that they were bothering you right now, but soon your expression and voice changed, mirroring the panic you probably felt, because the moment you ended the call, you began to type furiously. When he gave you an expectant look with a questioning hum, you let out a sigh and showed him the screen. 

He took the device from your hand and scrolled over some posts that could be found under his name in the tags, showing the two of you kissing just a few minutes ago. Considering your brother was tagged in a few of them, it was quite obvious that he was the one who called you, and knowing him, he was probably fuming from anger. “I’m sorry,” he said as he gave you back your phone. 

To his surprise, you just shook your head with a smile, then stood on your toes to give him a quick kiss. “Don’t be. He’ll calm down and people will move on. Also, I’m too happy to care about the fans. Screw them,” you said with a laugh. 

Yeah, screw them. As long as you could think about this so casually, he was happy. Because the last thing he wanted was you being crushed by the pressure, deciding that this relationship wasn’t worth the effort it needed to work. He was willing to do whatever it took to make it work, he was ready to make sacrifices if needed, anything to keep you by his side. He was that lovesick teenage boy again, his brain clouded by a pink fog that affected his way of thinking. Was it wise to put rationality and logic aside? Not really, but he couldn’t care at the moment. 

Not when after all those years he could finally tell you how he felt, and he could hear you say you felt the same. 

“Does this mean you’ll give me your number?” he asked with a grin, already reaching for his phone. Shaking your head, you held out your hand, then typed it in, saving it under your name that you finished with a heart emoji. “Will you come to Miami with me? Then we could travel back to Monaco together and spend some time there until the race.”

You hesitated for the first time that night, looking away nervously as you fidgeted with your bracelet. “I wish I could, but I have to work. Maybe I can go to Monaco, but I’m not sure. I’m sorry, Max,” you told him when you finally turned back to him and saw the devastated look he probably had in his eyes. 

He was so lost in his fantasy world that he failed to consider that you might have had a life back home he knew nothing about. He didn’t know what you did for work, he only knew you lived in London. At least he assumed you still did. What else did he not know? What if you had someone waiting for you back home? Panic took over at the thought of this kiss being nothing more to you than a fleeting memory in a few hours, because he didn’t want to lose you so soon, he didn’t want to be a plaything you get bored of so fast. 

Somehow you picked up on his feelings, because you gently cupped his face to make him focus on you. “I have to be in L.A. next week, I don’t know when I’ll have a little break again,” you told him, eventually flashing a sweet smile at him. “But I’ll try to make it to Monaco on time, okay? I’ll even give ourselves a few days to relax together.”

“Promise?”

You nodded before burying your face into the crook of his neck. “I promise. I should get going, but I don’t want to leave you just yet,” you mumbled against his skin. 

Max buried his fingers into your hair then grabbed a handful of it to gently pull your head back. “Get some sleep. And if you feel lonely tomorrow at the track, feel free to visit me. You’re always welcome,” he said before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Now, go before I change my mind and take you back to my hotel.”

You laughed at this, but nodded nonetheless. “Good luck for the race. I don’t want you to beat my brother, but still. Goodnight, Max.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said as he let you go. 

He stood there for a while, watching you disappear behind the entrance of the building, but once he took a deep breath to calm his heart that was still beating fast from the excitement he felt because of you, he headed back to his hotel. In the taxi he pulled out his phone and sent you a message. Then you replied, and the written conversation didn’t stop until you announced you were dead tired around one in the morning. 

You were his, he could feel it. After all those years, after all those dreams and sleepless nights, he could finally consider you to be more than just a precious memory. You were real. He could still taste you in his mouth. It felt like a dream, one he never wanted to wake up from.

In the morning, as he was heading to the track, Max received a message from his mother. All it said was, “I see you got the girl in the end.” He couldn’t hold back the big smile that wanted to creep on his face at the memory of that conversation they had all those years ago about you. After all that time, here he was, lost in the lavender haze because of you. 

During the drivers parade he didn’t miss the same old murderous looks he had received as a kid, but at least this time he knew he was safe in front of all the cameras. A part of him wanted to discuss this with Charles, but something told him it would be better if he let you do the talking. Even as kids, you had your brother wrapped around your finger, he highly doubted that had changed over the years. 

After the race he saw you congratulate your brother, but he didn’t miss the bright smile that you flashed at him. He considered walking over to you, stepping into Ferrari territory, but in the end decided not to risk it. If you came to a race as his guest, he would have the opportunity to get a tight hug from you before giving you a kiss in front of the whole world. 

They were heading to the cooldown room when Charles suddenly appeared next to him and said, “If you hurt her, I’ll launch us both into the nearest barrier the next time we meet on the track.” 

Max gulped and nodded. It was a fair warning. He was already afraid of fighting him on the track, but knowing he now had a good reason to attack him was truly terrifying. 

In the following week, the two of you talked a lot. Once you even told him that you hadn’t written a word in over an hour because of your conversation, but he still didn’t let you get back to work. He was selfish, he needed to hear your voice to function, to feel alive and know that the weekend before wasn’t some fever dream. He considered suggesting a visit to L.A. after the race to spend some time with you before you traveled back to Monaco together, but he had a feeling that he would be pushing his luck with that. 

The race weekend in Miami didn't start as planned. He was really mad and disappointed in himself after the qualifying, but talking to you made him feel a lot better. Even though you weren't there with him, knowing you cared so much helped him calm down and focus on the race ahead. 

On Sunday morning, a bit over an hour before the drivers parade, Checo asked him to follow him, acting all secretive when he said he wanted to show him something. Max wasn't in the mood for surprises, but then he noticed you standing there in their motorhome and a wide smile appeared on his face. He rushed over to you to pull you into a tight hug before kissing you fiercely, recharging his batteries by doing so.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when he stepped away, although he held your hands and wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. 

You shrugged with that sweet smile on your lips. “Yesterday wasn't the best for you and I could tell you were frustrated. My brother got me a pass, and he decided to ask Checo to sneak me into your motorhome to surprise you,” you explained. 

This was a surprise, sure, but not because you were here. “Charles organized this?” You nodded. “Why?”

“I don't know, ask him.”

“The last time we talked he told me he would push us both into a barricade if I hurt you,” Max admitted, earning a shocked look from you. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not planning on hurting you. Soooo, want me to give you a tour?”

When you nodded, he quickly thanked his teammate for helping your brother with this plan, then put a hand on the small of your back and showed you every interesting corner of the place, telling you different stories from the years he spent here, and conveniently ended the tour in his driver's room so you could have some privacy before he had to leave for the drivers parade. 

Even though you were sitting on his bed with a mischievous smile on your lips, he kept talking about how he got ready for the races, answering a question he didn't realize was a hint until now. Because you were eyeing him as if you were planning to pounce at him or grab the front of his shirt and pull him on top of you.

With a sigh and a knowing smile he stood in front of you, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. “Later, okay? This isn't the right time or place,” he told you.

“Why, what's the right time and place?”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Somewhere I can take my time with you. This is not it, trust me.” Nodding, you stood up and gave him a quick kiss. “Will you watch the race from our garage, or will you go back to Ferrari?”

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, you buried your face into his chest. “Where do you want me?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Red Bull it is,” you mumbled against him.

Soon he had to leave you behind to meet the other drivers for the parade, and his heart was beating in his throat from the nervousness caused by the upcoming chat with your brother. Because he had to talk to him, he had to find out if he was suddenly supporting you two, and why he helped him by bringing you here. 

Charles was deep in a conversation with Pierre, but he wasn't afraid to interrupt them. “Can we talk?” he asked the Monegasque.

He nodded and followed him to a quieter corner. “I guess you met her,” he said with the hint of a smile. 

“Why did you do this?”

“Because she was sad. And I don't like to see my sister like that. If being with you can make her happy, so be it,” Charles explained. “I remember how things used to be in our karting days. I remember how much she talked about you, and I remember the way you always watched her. Guess you found each other again. It doesn't mean we'll be best friends now, but maybe we should bury the hatchet.”

Max didn't even know what to say at first, which was new. Your brother's speech surprised him, he definitely wasn't expecting him to be okay with your relationship so soon after it had begun. Nodding, he offered his hand, and Charles shook it without hesitation. 

He wanted to say something, he wanted to tell him how grateful he was for not making a scene or their lives a living hell, but the organizers told them it was time to go. So he waved goodbye and left to find his friends.

Sadly, he didn't have time to talk to you again, he only caught a glimpse of you before getting in the car, and he wanted to focus on the race ahead anyway. He knew you knew that, which is why he didn't feel like shit for not doing anything he could to squeeze in a few minutes to spend with you. 

After he crossed the finish line, Max had a good feeling and he couldn't stop smiling in his helmet. He wasn't happy because he managed to win, no, he was happy because he knew you would be there with the team to greet him in the parc fermé. After all those years he could finally see you celebrate his good result instead of your brother's. 

After he got out of the car, he quickly took off his helmet and balaclava, then ran over to his team to greet a few people before stopping in front of you, watching you with a wide grin as he waited for you to give him the green light. When you finally nodded, he pulled you into a fierce kiss, the adrenaline in his system working wonders. 

“I hope we'll find the right place and time tonight, because post-race you is criminally hot,” you whispered into his ear with a cute laugh.

If it was up to him, he would have skipped the celebration and debrief parts of the day, but the best he could offer now was making everyone hurry so you could get back to his hotel as soon as possible. “We will, trust me,” he assured you eventually before being dragged away for interviews.

[It's you and me, that's my whole world]

Max knew that the Monaco grand prix would be the perfect time to ask you. But he wanted to do this right, and since he had learned in the past year how important your family was to you, he requested a meeting with your mother and Charles to discuss his intentions.

Maybe it was old fashioned, but your brother was a bit overprotective, he wanted to make sure he was comfortable with the idea of having him as a brother-in-law. Your mother wouldn't be a problem, he knew that, because she had often commented on how well he took care of you, and how happy she was that you found someone who was this enamored with you.

So now here he was in your mother's apartment, sitting across from her and Charles as if he was facing the Spanish Inquisition. He took a deep breath to steady his breathing and give himself a moment to figure out where to begin. In the end he decided to be direct, so he pulled out the little jewelry box from his pocket, and placed it on the table between them after he opened it to reveal the ring inside.

Pascale had her hands over her mouth as she gasped in surprise, but soon it was revealed that she was smiling happily when she reached for the box. “When are you planning to ask her?” she wondered as she took a closer look at the ring.

“After the race. Well, since I don't know what Sunday brings, I was aiming for Monday. I'm planning to take her out for lunch, then we would drive to a spot where I can ask her in peace. I already have an event planner getting a party ready for the evening,” Max explained with a shy smile.

And there was that trademark look again from Charles. He watched him with narrowed eyes as he leaned over to take a look at the jewelry in his mother's hand. “And if she says no?” Pascale poked his side with a disapproving look. “What? It's a possibility. They've only been dating for a year. It's too early.”

Your mother let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to him, Max, I'm sure she will say yes. She loves you very much. Oh, I'm so happy for you, come here,” she said as she stood up with her arms open.

With a relieved sigh, he stood up and walked around the table to hug her. “Does this mean you have no problem with my plan?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course not!”

“I do,” Charles spoke up, earning a pointed look from his mother.

Pascale put his hands on her hips as she watched her son. “You would have a problem with any guy who tried to ask her to marry him, no matter how long they've been together. I know you want to protect her, but you can't do it forever. You have your own relationship to focus on, and I don't remember her ever having a problem with your decisions.”

Finally, your brother let out a long sigh, then nodded. “All right, you have my blessing. But remember what I told you last year,” he warned him.

“Yeah, I know, the barrier.”

Your mother's eyes moved back and forth between the two of them. “What barrier?”

When he saw the pointed look Charles gave him to shut him up, Max decided to lie. “It's more of a metaphor, nothing worth mentioning,” he said, forcing a smile on his face.

“I see,” she said, although it was clear she didn't believe a word he said. “I'm so happy for you. When will you ask Alex?” she suddenly turned to her son.

Charles almost choked on the water he was drinking. “Really? Just because she's getting engaged, I don't have to copy her right away,” he complained.

A few days later Max had his doubts about the timing. Charles won the race, becoming the national hero, so would it be fair to avert the attention away from him the next day? So he did the only thing he could think of and asked your brother if he would be okay with him going on with this as planned. He said yes, probably knowing two events with this magnitude would make you extremely happy.

Lunch was nice, you joked a lot about Oscar becoming an honorary Leclerc, but you were mostly talking about all the love your brother's been receiving since the race win. He understood that, and he truly believed this was a well-deserved win, one that's been a long time coming. He wished he had a car that could fight theirs, but right now they only had their special moments every now and then.

When you reached your destination and the two of you sat on a picnic blanket with a bottle of wine opened, Max began to feel nervous. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, even as a stupid kid he imagined spending your lives together, but now that he was supposed to pop the question he felt surprisingly uncertain. 

You took a sip of your drink before snuggling up to him, even letting out a quiet giggle when you felt him wrap an arm around your body. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head while his free hand reached for the box in his pocket. He hesitated, wondering if this was the right time to do it, if he should give your relationship more time, but as he inhaled your sweet scent, he suddenly realized it would be foolish to waste your precious time.

So he moved his hand to yours and placed the little black box into your palm. You glanced at him with a surprised look on your face, and when he nodded to make you open it, you did exactly that. A small gasp left your lips when you realized what it was, what it meant, so he took this chance to tell you what was on his mind.

“I don't want to wait. I know we will have to sort a few things out, but I'm sure we can find a solution to everything. I travel around a lot, I know that, but if you could work remotely every now and then, we would just have to put effort into making our schedules work,” he said, his voice fading when you put up a finger to stop him.

He watched you examine the ring, taking in every little detail with a warm smile playing on your lips. “Maybe you should say those four words before giving me a speech about logistics,” you suddenly noted.

“What–Oh, right,” he said when realization hit him, then took the ring from you to do this right. “Will you marry me?” 

You let out a low, thoughtful hum instead of answering. Did you really have to think about it? But then you looked up at him with that beaming smile of yours and said yes, making him the happiest man with this single word.

“We're going to our engagement party tonight. I invited everyone who's important to us,” he announced.

“A party? And if I said no?” 

Rolling his eyes, Max let out a groan. “I swear you and Charles couldn't deny being twins if you wanted to,” he said, earning a questioning look. “That was his first question as well.”

The party in the evening was wonderful. Everyone was so happy to hear the news, and they had a lot of fun together. You and your mother disappeared for a while, and soon Charles and Arthur decided to join you in a private room, which gave him some time to talk to Alex. He needed to know what your brother truly thought of this engagement, and she surely knew something.

They sat on a couch next to each other, and she was watching him with a knowing smile over the cocktail in her hand. “What do you want to know?” she asked.

It took Max by surprise, but he was relieved to know she was willing to talk to him. “What does Charles think about this? I mean, really think? I'm sure he told you.” 

“He thinks you're taking her away from him, but that's only because they're so close. Dating someone is one thing, but planning a wedding?” She shrugged, but the kind smile was still present. “Look, he understands that this is what she wants, he knows how much you love her, so he made peace with the idea.”

Nodding, he leaned back and drank some from his cocktail. “So I have nothing to worry about?” 

“As long as you don't hurt her.”

“I'm not planning to do that,” he assured her.

Alex's smile grew even wider. “Then you have nothing to be afraid of.”

Their conversation went on for a little longer, but then it was interrupted by Lando who showed up with shots on a tray, planning to give him a speech while getting drunk together. He accepted his offer with a laugh, and Alex decided to give them space after sharing a drink with them. 

Lando had an arm wrapped around Max’s shoulder after their third shot, animatedly explaining something related to marriage, some weird theory that didn't even make much sense. How much he had drunk before was a mystery, but he was his friend, so he just listened to him with a smile. 

Hours later they all went home, and he was glad to finally have you all to himself. You spent the night talking, sleep somehow avoiding the both of you, but he didn't mind, it was nice to discuss things you were expecting from the wedding. Because you were already planning it in your head, trying to decide where to hold the reception, how many guests to invite, and what kind of dress you wanted.

And then you brought up the date. You were thinking about a month with a lower temperature, maybe in the spring, but he had a different idea. He didn't want to wait until next year. If it was up to him, the two of you would elope the next day, getting married without anyone knowing. But he knew you would want your family and friends to be there, so he was willing to settle with an alternative.

“How about this year? The beginning of September or the first half of October? We have short breaks then,” he suggested. 

You looked surprised, but despite the frown, you seemed to consider the idea. “This soon? Planning a wedding takes time, even if we get help from a professional wedding planner–”

Max smiled at you before leaning forward to give you a quick kiss. “I already took care of that. She said even a September wedding is possible if we're open to a compromise when it comes to the venue,” he told you.

“I'm not even surprised to hear that,” you said with a laugh. “So September, huh? I'll need to start looking for a wedding dress right now then.”

The next few months were challenging when it came to the races, the car wasn't performing the way it should have, but his frustration always melted away the moment his eyes fell on you, whether you were there at the track or during a video call after the race. He was always reminded that he would get to marry you soon, that all he had to do was be patient.

When the time came, he was full of energy, he was as excited as a little kid on Christmas, and he couldn't wait to hear you say yes. The thought of Charles walking you down the aisle made him smile every time because you knew how important that was to you. To the both of you. 

And when he tried to imagine what you would look like, how your dress would hug your body, how your hair and makeup would be done, he couldn't stop grinning. If there was one thing you and your brother had in common, it was the ability to look effortlessly pretty without trying.

But reality surpassed his wildest dreams, because you were breathtakingly beautiful. And his mind began to wander, he was already several steps ahead, planning to do something that could take your relationship to the next level, and his thoughts only returned to the present when the ceremony got the the I dos. 

Before the reception began, he flagged down the photographer to ask for the photos he had taken not long ago, and once you both received the pictures, he immediately posted it on Instagram. He knew he should have waited and posted a photo dump, but he was too eager to share the news of his marriage with the world.

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maxverstappen1: My best friend, my soulmate, my WIFE. I love you, sweetheart.

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Your wedding was truly a celebration of your relationship, of your future together, and the love that tied you to all those people in your lives. He was one of the three people who knew a little secret; a secret he allowed to be announced to you and your family on your wedding day.

So you two and your family members gathered in the room you had gotten ready in, and you all watched Charles who was pale as a ghost, fidgeting with his watch until Alex reached for his hand with a supportive smile.

“I know this is your big day, sis,” he began, giving you an apologetic look, “but Max let us make the announcement today since you're all here.” 

He stopped and looked over at his girlfriend, letting her be the one to get to the point. “I’m pregnant,” she said happily.

Max’s eyes never left you, he was waiting to see your reaction, and he didn't regret waiting, He saw that wide smile that appeared on your face, and heard that adorable happy squeal before you ran over to your brother to give them both a hug. That's exactly the reaction he was expecting from you, this is why he told them to make the announcement that day.

Once everyone left to have a drink while they told it to their friends too, the two of you remained in there alone, and he was quick to close the door and push your back against it before you could walk out as well. You gave him a surprised look, but he turned the lock as he kissed you fiercely, his hand moving down to your waist to keep you in place.

“I was thinking,” he began as his lips trailed along your jawline. “And before you say it, I'm definitely not turning this into some kind of competition with Charles. But remember when we talked about starting the baby project after the wedding? We are after the wedding technically, no?”

Now that you knew what he wanted, you reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him into another kiss. “We’ll have to be quick if we don't want the guests to notice,” you mumbled when you pulled away for a moment.

He gave you a disapproving look at this. “I don't care about the guests. I will take my time with you. Now, buttons or zipper?” 

“Buttons,” you replied with a quiet chuckle.

With a groan, he stepped back and moved his index finger in a circle. “Turn around,” he said. As he began the painfully slow and annoying task of unbuttoning your dress’ back, he added, “A zipper would have been so much better.”

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yourusername: Little Verstappen in the works.

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pascale.leclerc.355: I'm so glad my babies will soon have their own little families. All the best for you two!

alexandrasaintmleux: Our babies will be the best of friends ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc: But our boy will be the better driver.

⤷ maxverstappen1: You wish.

maxverstappen1: I love the both of you so much ❤️ I'm lucky to have you in my life.

arthur_leclerc: Congratulations, sis!

[If you approach a Lyon lion hungry you will see teeth]

Max had always known he wouldn't race forever, and with his son in the picture, he always made sure you were okay with him going on. Because he would spend most part of the year traveling, leaving the two of you behind, but you always told him it was okay, that you could go to a few races with him to spend some time together.

When his son became old enough, he took him karting to see if he was even interested. He had grown up watching him in F1, he saw old videos of his races against his uncle, so neither of you were surprised when at the age of six he began to talk about starting to race himself. But it wasn't his idea only, Charles's son was also hell-bent on racing. 

This is how their old rivalry continued with a new generation, although they definitely didn't hate each other off the track. It was truly heartwarming to see them celebrate together, hugging each other after a successful race. Of course, this came with the media's attention, they often wrote about the two being at the top of their category, but neither of them paid much attention to that.

The problems began when his son fell back into the midfield in the new season, because shortly after articles began to appear about his talent. Well, more like the lack of it. Some journalists thought he didn't have what it took to be as good as his father, and Max was fuming from anger every time he read one of these.

“Just don't read them,” you suggested one night after putting your son to bed. 

You sat in his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, and Max put down his phone with a sigh. “It's hard to ignore these idiots. They know absolutely nothing about him, they don't know what's going on with him behind the scenes,” he said before giving you a soft kiss.

It was true. During the break, your nephew proudly showed him an article about the two of them, so he figured he should do his own research. And all he saw were articles where journalists were comparing him to his father, analyzing his every move on the track. It put pressure on him, pressure that he apparently couldn't handle.

He didn't hesitate to take him to a psychologist, knowing perfectly well his mental health came first, but it was a slow process. The two of you did your best to help him, you always told him how good he was, that he just needed a little time to ease back into racing after the break. And you both also assured him that you would love him more than anything even if he stopped racing altogether.

“Did you read what my father said?” he asked you suddenly, and you shook your head in response. “He said that I wasn't pushing him hard enough. I swear he's out of his goddamn mind,” he said angrily. 

You placed a soft kiss on his temple, then rested your chin on top of his head. “You know what he's like. As long as you don't start acting like him–”

“I would never,” he was quick to assure you.

“I know. Limiting contact between him and our son was the best decision we could make. Let's just hope these comments don't reach our boy.”

Max began to place soft kisses on your neck, his hand slowly moving up your back under the shirt. “I love you two so much,” he mumbled against your skin. “I'll discuss what to do tomorrow. I know some journalists have been trying to reach me for a comment, if the team says it's okay to talk to them, I will. Nobody should mess with my family.”

“Just try to stay calm. I know it's been a long time since Mad Max came out to play, but we're doing fine without him,” you said with a short laugh.

He looked up at you as he captured your lips in a kiss. “I can't make any promises.”

The next day the team gave him the green light to comment on the speculations under the condition of every single word being sent via email to have proof later. Though the PR people tried to tone down his harsh reaction, Max wasn't about to let them. He wanted the journalists to know he wasn't about to let them write that bullshit about his son anymore. 

If they had a problem, they should come to him first for comment instead of publishing these pieces so anyone, including his son, could see it. If they wrote something like that, he wanted to have a quote from himself there too, mostly because he wanted his son to know his father was always in his corner.

As he waited for news about the journalists who received his comment from his team, Max saw his phone buzz on the table to signal a new message. When he checked it, he saw it was from Charles, and since he had nothing better to do, he quickly checked it.

Just as he hoped, some of the articles were extended with his comment, or in some cases brand new pieces were published. They visibly toned down the vitriol, probably understanding that they were talking about a kid, not an adult who could protect himself. He even received a message or two in which journalists apologized for the way they handled this topic. 

The perks of including two off the record sentences to make them think. “If it was your child, would you be happy to read this? Wouldn't you worry how it affects them?” he wrote.

When he got home, the first thing he did was hugging his son tightly, telling him how much he loved him, promising to play against him in the sim rig after dinner. You were watching them with a loving smile on your lips, one that drew him closer and made him kiss you softly.

“Have you checked Instagram lately?” you asked him. Raising an eyebrow, Max shook his head. With a smile, you opened it on your phone and navigated to your brother's account before giving it to him. “We can count on our family, no matter what. As long as our son has this support, everything's gonna be okay.”

When he read the caption, he couldn't help but smile. “We should show him,” he said, motioning towards your son who was writing his homework. 

You shook your head as you took back your phone. “He was the one who saw it first.”

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charles_leclerc: Like fathers, like sons. They will carry on our legacy because they are both insanely talented, and we are proud of them, no matter what happens in their careers. We love you, boys!

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yourusername: ❤️

arthur_leclerc: My nephews are badasses, don't mess with them.

user1: Those articles are disgusting, I don't get how anyone in their right mind can write that about a kid.

⤷ user2: No wonder Max finally commented on them. But it's so good to see how much he loves his son.

⤷ user3: Mad Max is back!

note 2: That's all, folks. What do you think? Feedback is always welcome.

[dolcettamagica]

being rick’s doll

@thatg8rl

[lon3rlife]

More dating Rick Sanchez Headcanons!!!

I have sooooo many I could go on forever

After you gain his trust and he really truly cares about you he becomes completely co-dependent on you and literally never wants to be apart. He’ll want to be around you 24/7 even if you’re not doing anything he just likes your company.

He’ll take you on spontaneous vacations to different planets (some safer than others) and he just loves telling you all about different planets and relaxing with you for a bit

Your guy’s share EVERYTHING, food, clothes, beds, seats, you guys don’t even give af at this point

He loves loves loves when you sit on his lap or straddle him. He loves holding your hips as you lazily rest against him

He’s very touch starved so when you guys hug or cuddle for the first time he completely melts into you and never wants to let you go

He’ll take your side in any argument you get into with someone. Even if you’re wrong he will still take your side no matter what

He talk VERY loudly during movies, like he actually never shuts up. Every two seconds he’ll say something like “That’s not how that works.” “God people in movies are so fucking dumb.” “I’m bored.” He has gotten kicked out of the movie theater on many occasions

Even though you love Rick with all your heart you’ll still stick up for Morty if Rick is treating him poorly

He remembers all your go to orders at restaurants and if your feeling down he’ll surprise you with food to make sure you eat

I’m half asleep rn so I’m very sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes lol

[cyberstrm]

rick sanchez x gn!reader

you sat on the counter, taking intermittent drags of the purple joint.

"space weed", as rick called it, was your favourite thing he'd ever introduced you to. it was so calming, it made you so relaxed and you couldn't get enough of it.

"hi, babe." rick mumbled as he entered the garage. he spotted the joint and his eyes lit up. "oh, shiiit, gimma a drag-"

he held out his hand, and you went to give it to him, but pulled it away right has he reached for it. you giggled.

"nice try, but this one's mine." you grinned. rick scowled.

"i got you that, you ungrateful-" he growled. you cut him off by blowing smoke in his face.

"c'mere," you smirked, before taking a hit. you gestured for him to get close, and he did, slightly confused. you pressed your lips to his and exhaled slowly.

"shiiit..." he mumbled groggily, inhaling and exhaling the second hand smoke. "gimme another one,,"

"if you wanna kiss me you can just do it, no need for excu-"

rick pressed his lips to yours again, stepping closer to the counter so your knees were pressed to his waist. he pulled away and smirked at your blushing face. he took a hit of the joint, and your eyes widened. he'd taken it from you, mid-kiss.

"asshole."

he grinned. "you know it, hun."

[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.

[mortytheestallion]

can i have you?

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

Word Count: 1700+

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, age-gap (older man/younger woman), unprotected sex PIV, angst, cunnilingus, fingering, canon typical violence, alcohol

“What’s that?” There’s a look of uneasiness painted on your face, a timid hand pointing at a seemingly dead robot that looks a little too much like Rick, well exactly like Rick, strewn across the garage floor in a puddle of oil.

Rick barely spares a glance over his shoulder before giving a gruff grunt.

“Morty pissed me off. It's a glorified family babysitter while I search for— while I focus on real shit.”

You think you’re gonna throw up. If that. . . thing, has been impersonating Rick for a couple of weeks then—

You can’t help the shriek that passes through your lips. Stomach churning, you don’t acknowledge the sound of glass shattering not 5 feet from where you stand. All you can do is stare at the shiny gold consisting of the robot’s body parts in horror.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Rick had already been in an irritated state like you’ve never seen. 5’o clock shadow, disheveled hair, and his lab coat seemed to be all that was holding him together.​ The mania had dissipated a couple of days ago, leaving nothing but piss and vinegar behind. 

“I fucked that thing.”

You’ve never seen Rick surprised as he slowly turns to face you, brow near his hairline. He’s speechless for the first time since he met you, yet it's gone as quickly as it came. His signature furrowed brow and twitching eye returned.

“What do you mean you fucked it?” It's full of venom. You can see his shoulders tense, white knuckles gripping the edge of the work bench. 

All you can do is stare at him, bound and gagged by your own dreadful realization. A beat passes before either one of you moves, Rick springs into action first. A string of explicatives leaves his mouth as he roughly clears the work bench, you cringe at the sound of clattering metal, but do not move. It feels like your feet have grown roots. 

It all makes sense now. The soft touches, the kindness, the supportiveness. It couldn’t have been Rick, it wasn’t. 

You can’t believe you didn’t realize it was a robot. His hands were cold, which was the only odd thing but Rick is odd. He normally runs like a space heater. You often wake up with all of your blankets on the floor, Rick starfished on the topsheet. He had been more tender though, attentive. You just thought time was changing him, making him softer. It seemed like family was making him more mellow, you thought maybe having you in his life brought out something in him. 

The shame and embarrassment washes over you like a flood. 

He picks up the robot with ease, throwing it onto the work bench like it weighs less than a feather. You’d be turned on in other, better circumstances. Your thoughts continue to race as Rick searches carelessly through boxes, throwing items over his shoulder at the workbench. He doesn’t seem to care if it hits the robot or not. 

Rick attaches what looks like jumper cables to each of the robot's nipples. You snort, instant regret shoots down your spine as Rick throws a glare at you. He presses a button and the robot jerks to life, cringing as he moans through the electrical current flowing through him.

“I thought you let me die, asshole.” He squints at Rick. His eyes widen when he realizes Rick is in no joking mood. 

“I programmed you to keep Morty busy not to fuck my gir— not to fuck her!” Rick thumb jabs in your direction, “Now I’m gonna fuck her, and make you watch.”

“Rick.” It's the first word you’ve been able to get out in a minute, the robot quietly sighs to himself during your staring contest with Rick. 

“Fine.” It comes out through gritted teeth, and he rips the cables off. The robot jerks as the light leaves its eyes. You feel a little guilty, this somewhat sentient creature dying because of your actions. Then again, Rick programmed it to be him, and it does seem to want to die. 

“What?” It's accusatory. Rick can’t believe the look on your face, you fucked a robot not him. Who are you to be on a high horse?

Your mouth is set in a grim line, tension oozes between the two of you. Rick’s chest heaves, he won’t break before you do. 

“What exactly was your plan with the robot? You thought I wouldn't initiate sex?” You break, chewing on your lip. Rick’s eyes briefly flicker towards it before meeting yours again. His hands are balled into fists.

“S-sorry I expected you to actually use that thing in your head, you know the brain?” Your mouth falls open at his jab, “Mouth o-open again? Gonna stick the dead robot dick in it, sweetheart?” 

There's tears in your eyes. All of the cautious trust you’ve built over the last couple washed away in a matter of seconds. Serves you right, you think.

He takes a swig of his flask, angry eyes betraying the calm demeanor he’s trying to portray. You can’t help it as the tears fall, you watch him soften a bit as you sniffle before the coldness returns. 

“Tears d-don’t work on me bab— sweetie, or did the robot fuck you dumb?” You know he’s just being mean because he’s hurt. 

It doesn’t make it any less upsetting though. You both stand your ground. 

You play it up a little, calling his bluff. Sniffles turn to sobs, you watch as his resolve slowly begins to crumble. He shifts his weight several times before he tosses the flask over his shoulder and moves in your direction. 

“C’mere,” his thumbs briefly wipe the tears off your cheeks before his lips meet yours. It’s uncharacteristically soft for him, a little too on brand for the robot. You push the thought to the back of your mind, enjoying how warm his body is pressed against yours. 

He gets a little rougher. You gasp as your back hits the work bench, so engrossed in the feeling of his teeth biting your neck you didn’t even notice him guiding you over. 

Rick’s hands are gripping your waist so tight you’re sure there’ll be handprint shaped bruises on your hips in the morning. The thought of it makes you moan, and he tenses slightly before continuing his way down your torso. 

He gets his hands under your thighs. Calloused hands meet plush skin as he leverages you up on the counter, you yelp as you land on the cold counter. 

“Gon–gonna make you forget all about him, sweetheart,” He mutters, rucking the material down your legs. He’s gonna show you how much he cares about you in the only way he can. He stops for a minute to grab you by the nape of your neck and kisses you, really kisses you. He bathes in the soft moans he manages to pull from you between kisses, continuing his previous goal as he bites his way down your neck and chest. 

Rick drags your ass to the edge of the counter before dropping to his knees. He bites back a curse, his joints too old to be doing shit like that but damn if he wasn’t gonna worship you in a way that matters. Matters to him.

He runs a finger up your slit, savoring how wet you are for him after nothing but a couple kisses. It inflates his ego like you wouldn’t believe. 

You mewl as he breaches you, two slender fingers twisting inside you. You arch into his touch, wiggling for as much contact you can milk from him. 

“Please, Rick, d-don’t tease,” you plead, his eyes search your face. He curls his fingers up, hitting you where you’re soft and spongy, reveling in the way you melt in his hands. Rick uses his other hand to spread your knees wide. He can’t help the noise that escapes his throat at the sight of you. 

He picks up his pace and you squirm, your hips chasing as much pleasure as you can. His cock presses uncomfortably against the seam of his pants as he feels you clench around his fingers. Beads of sweat pepper your hairline as you ride his fingers, becoming more desperate the longer he denies you release. 

You practically scream the minute you feel his mouth on your clit. Your orgasm rips through you like a live wire. Your thighs shake, momentarily blacking out as the pleasure overwhelms you. 

When you come down, Rick is staring at you intently. 

“Can I have you?” It's loaded. You know what he means, he’s asking for permission before continuing but there’s more underneath this time. He might even be more upset than you about the robot fucking, and you know Rick’s no saint. Your lip quivers. His stare never leaves your face.

You nod. He’s on you faster than you can process post-orgasm. 

He kisses you again. It's softer this time, one hand holds your jaw softly while the other undoes his belt. He desperately shoves his pants down as if having you will solve all his problems. Maybe it will.

Rick fists himself as he smears his cock against your entrance. You moan, overstimulated and fucked out. He holds himself back, it's not in his nature to go slow. Your hips buck involuntarily as he slides to the hilt, his head drops to your shoulder with a groan. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so tight,” He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in without warning, “Bet he didn’t fuck you like this, huh?” He quickens his pace and you grip his shoulders, hips dragging with what little strength you have to meet him.

He thrusts as deep as he can to get you to writhe and whimper. 

“C’mon,” He pants, “Just one more for me, honey, I know you can do it.” It's creeping up on you, twisting down your spine. He angles his hips to spear his cock into you just like you need, and it's enough. 

Rick’s hips stutter as you clench around him, gripping your hips to deliver the brutal thrusts you need as you ride through your orgasm. 

He comes shortly after with a grunt as you flutter along his length. 

“I’d have fucked a robot sooner if it meant you’d fuck me like that.”

The glare is worth it.

[boredsupergirl]

Rick sanchez bouncing you on his knee and making you get off to it while he busies himself with tweaking his portal gun 😩

Warnings: Thigh riding

“You still haven’t fixed that?” You quickly approached him and watched as he analyzed his portal gun. “I’d actually appreciate it if you didn’t get as annoying as Morty about it” He replied, still staring at his portal gun with a frustrated face. “If I pretend to be interested in what you’re doing, will you fuck me later?” You asked him in a seductive tone, trying to get at least a touch from him. “Not really, I’m sure I’ll fix it today and we’ll start the adventures again, you know” Rick stated, with a slight smile as he looked at you for a moment to keep your disappointed face in his mind. “But you can get on here” He suggested, feigning disinterest as he patted his leg. You thought about it for a moment, rationally the answer was no, clearly. But there was an unbearable feeling that grew and grew in the lower part of your stomach, which made a huge difference between your initial answer and the one you gave. You sat on one of his thighs, straddling him, while he was too busy with his portal gun to even pay attention to you. But you didn't care because today you had your interest in reaching your orgasm and nothing else. You gently began to rub against his leg, closing your eyes on those occasions when you hit sweet spots that made you release shaky gasps that you tried hard to keep silent. However, Rick stopped for a moment and looked at you out of the corner of his eye with slight disappointment, he wanted to hear you because he himself was powerful and he always liked to feel that way, even when he was sexually pleasing someone. He began to bounce his leg quickly, in the meantime he went back to what he was doing, this made you lose control unconsciously releasing a moan. The friction he made with the fabric of his pants was totally exquisite and every time you bounced you could experience waves of pleasure running down your back that then remained intact in your stomach forming a spiral that struggled to discharge soon. “I will help you,” Rick decreed, putting his hands on your waist after forgetting his portal gun for a few minutes. “You need my help for everything,” he mocked, as he helped you jump faster on his leg. From then on, you rested your body and forgot everything around you, because his speed was perfect and every time you touched his leg you felt like the sensation in your stomach was going to discharge soon. Meanwhile, your body stopped being yours and became his, between the speed with which he exerted his grip and the bounce of his leg, your sex was completely out of your control and you could only enjoy that sensation that had already been released, making you experience tremors throughout your body as you savored your climax in which you felt the discharges of pleasure throughout your body seeing how your skin was bristling. He went back to repairing his portal gun without paying much attention to your accelerated gasps in his ear, trying to recover you. You stood up from his leg, holding on to his table, without taking your hands off it to avoid a much stronger dizziness. “I fixed the portal gun!” He exclaimed excitedly. You shook your head, still trying to recover.

[t0rturedangel]

I wanted to request a Rick x reader if it's ok with you? Were they going to the citadel and since there's no readers there other Rick may try and talk to the reader? Who knows, maybe they get jealous of Rick and try to take the reader because since there Rick they like the reader too. (By the way feel free to ignore but to let you know I really LOVE your writing, it's so accurate and I hope this motivates you to keep it up)

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧

⠀⠀⠀: ᯓ 𝟎𝟎𝟐.⠀ C-137 RICK SANCHEZ X READER

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟑. SYNOPSIS, Rick wasn't not too keen on bringing you to the citadel, and this is why

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟒. WARNINGS, Rick Sanchez, other ricks, swearing, possibly ooc, one rick gets a lil freaky with you, a rick dies.

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟓. AUTHOR'S NOTES, I'm on that grind rn, posting as much as I can while I still have the motivation. also I LOVE THIS REQUEST!! AHHH I'll happily do it!!

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤYour curiosity of the citadel started when MORTY had accidently mentioned it- he had been complaining about all the scams he found there when you overheared, quickly prompting you to immediately ask questions about it- RICK never told you anything about this citadel so obviously you were curious. MORTY had no idea RICK was keeping the citadel hidden from you for a reason and thus he happily began to explain about the citadel until he was caught by RICK.

"W-w-what the hell Morty?!" RICK pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes narrowed at his morty- teeth practically gritting together in annoyence causing the teen boy to quickly question why his grandpa was suddenly even more angry with him "W-what?" He asked, slowly getting nervous as Rick groaned, ignoring your puzzled and equaly annoyed look, "They weren't supposed to find out about the citadel Morty!" Your Rick burped, now dragging his hand down his face "W-w-w-well I-I-I didn't know that!" Morty defended himself just before you voiced your opinion "Rick why have you never told me about the citadel? Meeting other me's would be so cool!" "No it wouldn't be... trust me [name] I know" "Maybe for you" you rolled your eyes, resting your elbow on Morty's shoulder (who was nervously looking between you and Rick). "Take me to the citadel Rick" you commaned after a short pause, immediately getting a shake of the said and a stern 'no' from Rick "What the fuck, why? You take Morty!" "It isn't the same with you as it is with Morty." "I dont care" "Neither do I but-" "So?"

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤyou two began to bicker about it, with you being insistant on going to the damned citadel while RICK came up with any and every excuse on why you should not and could not go- "they have man-eating cows so you'd be eaten immediately" was one of them, quite a stupid one you must admit but you quickly contrasted it "Okay? so i'll bring a gun!" and that went on for hours.... and then eventually days until RICK eventually gave up.

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤThat's how you ended up in the citadel. Wandering about like a child with your RICK close behind, glaring at every other rick who even glanced your way.

You looked around, eyes shining with curiosity and awe at each building and piece of technology you found (which was every where) "What the fuck Rick, why didn't you show me this place sooner!" "Because this place sucks?" you decided not to answer your boyfriend and instead run around some more, unintentionally ignoring RICK- who's voice was getting quieter and quieter until you couldn't hear it anymore. So now you found yourself by a train station, looking at all the different ricks, most wearing factory worker clothes which struck you as being odd, aren't all rick's smart asf? why are they dressed like that? Your overly curious nature led you to one of them, poking him in the shoulder for his attention. Your contact with him startled that rick, he quickly snapped his head to you- getting ready to shout at whoever was disturbing him until he processed your face- his eyes widening in, what you assumed to be, awe "a-a [name]?!" He bleched, asking like you were some damn pokemon "whats good" was your simple, yet slightly annoyed reply. "H-how did you get here? [n-names] are so rare" He questioned, a grimy hand getting closer to your face, possibly to examine it which was something you did not appriciate so thus you leant back. "Woah hands off" You held up your hands, trying to form a distance between you and the rick- which had somehow caught the attention of the other ricks who were staring at you with wide eyes, you could practically hear their shocked whispers which also consisted of 'a [name]?' 'when did a [name] get here?' 'where is their rick?' what the fuck are they talking about? and just as you were about to leg it in the opposite direction, one of the ricks- in an extremely expensive suit- walked up to you "Where is your rick?" his voice seemed posh, he didn't stutter and definately didn't have that alcoholic stench you were familiar with "uh... he's over- shit." you looked behind you, hoping to see your boyfriend yet was met with nothing.

"So your rick has left you? Meaning you're up for grabs?" "what the shit??? NO. My rick hasn't left me ass-face, and I'm not 'up for grabs' like a damn toy! Go find another [name]!" You gritted your teeth, clearly irritated by how you were talked about like you were an object "I can't just 'find another [name]' thats impossible, nearly all [names] are gone." the rick rolled his eyes, matching your irritation "But either way, why would you want to stay with whoever your rick is when you could be with me? I'm one of the citadels bet buissness men, I could treat you well" the way he was talking was making you sick to your stomach "Eat ass dude, My rick is brilliant! I dont need a replacement!" "Well clearly--" "-- you need to get the fuck away from [name]" a new, yet exact name, voice intergected the posh rick's statement, angering him "Just who the hell do you think you are?" "RICK OH MY GOD." You practically threw yourself to your rick, desperate to get out of the situation you were in- something that made all the other rick's (appart from the posh one) to let out defeated sighs and revert to how they were before you appeared. "So you're their rick? You seem pathetic." "The only thing pathetic here is that you think you can take my s/o" Your Rick jeered, crossing his arms "Well I can If I want to, you fucking alcoholic--" thankfully, the rick was quickly cut off, as the sound of a gun fired through the station- earning a small gasp from you and annoyed yells from the alive ricks.

"Come on [name]" Your rick grabbed your hand, before shooting a portal and walking through it "You didn't have to--" "-- He was getting on my nerves, I hate those types of Ricks.." "I see why.. but Rick, why did he say that nearly all of mes are gone?". You saw Rick physically stiffen up, before he shook his head "You'll find out later, I can't be asked to tell you right now." and while you were tempted to bother him about the topic, you had learnt that It's best to listen to him, at least for now. With a sigh, you plopped down on the sofa- next to your boyfriend "I will never go there again." "Yeah, see, what do I keep telling you all? I'm the smartest man in the universe and I know what I'm talking about ALWAYS, dumb pieces of shit" He sighed not even looking your way "Yeah yeah.. let's just watch some interdementional cable" You snatched the remote from the ground and began to switch through the channels, "WAIT, [name] go back! go fucking back! I saw ball fondlers!"

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤWhile RICK will never admit it, he is glad that you are never going back to the citadel- makes it easier for him to control his jealousy.

[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.

[c137-cipher]

drew my ideal blunt rotation

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐍𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

rick sanchez x reader

anon request: please i can request literally anything with rick sanchez acting jealous. Thanks and if you don't accept requests just ignore this tags: sexually suggestive, possessive & obsessive rick, daddy kink notes: minors dni wc: 2.2k

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He is Rick Sanchez. The smartest man, scratch that, creature alive. He isn’t a mere human, he is a God. Whatever Rick wants, he gets. He invented interdimensional travel. He fucked a planet.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He knows that everything and everyone is replaceable. If someone dies he can just switch universes. Does he lose something? Same thing. Nothing is unique. There are millions of versions of everything. 

Rick doesn’t get attached.

That’s why when you confessed your feelings in a drunken haze Rick yelled at you. Rick thought you were at least smarter than Morty. You should have known that Rick doesn’t do feelings. That you’re nothing special. That you’re just a quick fuck when his cock gets hard and needs some easy pussy wrapped around it.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He didn’t understand why he felt pressure in his heart when you started crying, endless tears streaming down your cheeks as you apologized after he rejected your feelings. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt the need to reach his arms out and pull you into a tight embrace. Instead he insulted you as a whiny dumb bitch before disappearing through a green portal.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

So why was he fuming with rage as he saw you cuddled up on the couch with some other man weeks after he told you to fuck off?

A relentless fire, burning away any semblance of rational thought consumed Rick. His eyes smoldered with suspicion at the slightest hint of the man's attention toward you. Rick’s gestures became tense and guarded, his clenched fists betraying the turmoil within. Every smile directed at you from that dude sent a surge of insecurity coursing through Rick’s veins, twisting his features into a mask of possessiveness. Each innocent interaction fueled his rage until it consumed him entirely.

“Wh–Who the fuck is that–that lame fratboy on my couch?!”, Rick didn’t even bother to step closer, his voice dripping with anger. Your eyes shot wide open as you saw the tall scientists near the door. After your confession you avoided him as best as you could – after all you did live with the Smith family ever since your parents (their old neighbors) abandoned you. You never joined an adventure again. You never went into his garage to simply chat with him. You didn’t even ask if you could smoke space-weed. Nothing. That pissed Rick off even more because he caught himself missing you one time too many.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’m Michael”, Michael was a polite, handsome young man, who attended the same college you did. Smiling, he reached his hand out towards Rick to shake his hand, “Are you y/n’s grandfather?”

If looks could kill every version of Michael would be dead by now. “You’re fuck–fucking stupid.” Rick would’ve loved to just kill that boy or at least cut off Michael’s hand, which was dangerously close to your thigh. You two were way too close for Rick in general. “y/n, who is that? Your new–new lover, huh? You little– Spreading your legs a–already?”

Rick knew he was overstepping it. He should have never said that but he couldn’t help it. You didn’t talk to him for weeks after you said that you love him with all your heart and now you’re with some lame, boring dumbass? Is that what undying love looks like? 

“…You’re a fucking asshole, Rick”, Rick could hear you holding back your tears, the way your eyes started to water, your cheeks painted red. He hurt you – again. Meanwhile Michael had already stood up and made his way over to Rick.

„Listen to m–„ Michael didn‘t stand a chance, Rick immediately interrupted him. 

„Li–Listen to me, shitface. I know– You fratboys are all the fucking–fucking same. You wanna tell me y–you‘re serious about y/n?“, he stepped closer, „You– Could you give her your phone and promise–promise she wouldn‘t find nudes or chats from other pussies?“

Absolute silence. This was all it took for Rick to confirm his suspicions. „Now you‘re si–silent? Jesus. How predictable. Jesus fucking christ. You think just because you’re d–defending her right now she’ll let you have– get a piece of her? You– Do you really think y/n would do that?” More silence though now Michael’s expression almost matched Rick’s. Both were fuming with rage. Rick simply shook his head, pulled out his portal gun and ended up in his garage again. If he would have stayed any longer he would have ended up beating that fratboy to a pulp.

In the dimly lit confines of his garage, the air thick with the pungent scent of portal fluid and vodka, Rick's rage simmered beneath a haze of alcohol fumes. His knuckles whitened around his flask as he gulped down the fiery liquid, each swig fueling the inferno of jealousy and resentment burning within him. The echoes of a heated argument still reverberated in his mind, igniting a storm of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. His bloodshot eyes fixated on nothingness, yet his thoughts were consumed by visions of betrayal and deceit, twisting his features into a contorted mask of fury.

Rick's movements grew increasingly erratic, his drunken stupor amplifying the intensity of his emotions. Each swill from the bottle became a desperate attempt to drown out the insecurities gnawing at his soul. Yet, with every passing moment, the flames of anger raged higher, feeding off his intoxication like a relentless blaze devouring dry timber. Alone in the darkness, he surrendered to the tumultuous tempest raging within, consumed by a toxic cocktail of alcohol, jealousy, and resentment. Resentment towards Michael, you and most importantly – himself.

“Fuck it.”

His plan was to be teleported in the middle of your room, right in front of your bed. Instead he landed right on top of you on your bed. Maybe he really did have too much to drink. But fuck, did he miss this. Your silky hair, your soft skin, your body pressed against his, your eyes staring into his. The faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window accentuated the contours of Rick’s silhouette, casting a seductive allure over the scene. His gaze, intense and unwavering, bore into yours, a silent invitation laden with unspoken desires.

As you laid on the bed, a mixture of melancholia and yearning coursed through your veins, your heart quickening in response to his proximity. The air crackled with tension, charged with the palpable electricity of unspoken words and unfulfilled longing. Despite the intimacy of their proximity, there lingered a delicate balance between attraction and apprehension, a dance of emotions teetering on the edge of possibility. In that fleeting moment, suspended in the hazy embrace of moonlight, you found yourselves ensnared in a silent exchange of desire, your hearts entwined in the delicate threads of possibility.

“What…what are you doing, Rick? Please leave”, your voice was shaking, filled with sadness. Just like a few weeks ago when Rick rejected you. Honestly as the days unfolded, the weight of his decision settled upon him like a heavy shroud, suffocating him with the burden of regret. What once seemed like a reasoned choice now gnawed at his conscience incessantly, tormenting him with the realization of what he had forsaken. In the quiet moments of reflection, your presence lingered in the recesses of Rick’s mind, a constant reminder of the warmth and companionship he had callously turned away. He yearned for a chance to rewind time, to recant his words and embrace the opportunity he had foolishly cast aside. But as the echoes of his rejection reverberated through his thoughts, he grappled with the harsh truth that some wounds inflicted by one's own hand can never fully heal, leaving behind scars of remorse that serve as a painful testament to lost love.

In a moment of raw vulnerability, Rick found himself enveloped by a surge of longing and regret as he reached out to embrace you. His arms wrapped around your trembling form, pulling you close with a tenderness born from the depths of his remorse. With each beat of his heart, Rick felt the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken apologies pressing down upon him, a heavy burden he could no longer bear. As your bodies pressed together, he savored the warmth of your presence, a fleeting glimpse of the connection he had foolishly forsaken. In that embrace, Rick sought solace in the familiarity of your touch, yearning to erase the distance he had allowed to grow between you. But even as he held you close, Rick knew that some wounds run too deep to mend with a simple embrace, and the ache of regret would linger long after your arms had untangled and they parted ways once more. So, he didn’t let go.

“Why– Why did you b-bring that boy over?”, Rick whispered into your ear.

“…Why do you even care?”

With a heavy heart and a tangled web of emotions, Rick mustered the courage to lean back and face you, intent on conveying the depth of his regret for his earlier rejection. His words caught in his throat, a silent plea for forgiveness lingering on Rick’s lips. Yet, beneath the facade of contrition, a different truth simmered—a truth he dared not confess. Deep down, Rick knew that admitting his regret would unravel the carefully constructed walls he had built around his heart, exposing the vulnerability he had long sought to conceal. So, with practiced deceit, Rick masked his true intentions behind a facade of remorse, weaving a tangled web of half-truths and feigned contrition in a desperate attempt to suppress the stirring of emotions he dared not acknowledge. In the shadow of his deception, the echoes of his regret remained unspoken, a silent testament to the complexities of love and the fear of baring one's soul to the object of Rick’s desire.

“Did you– Did you fuck him?”

“Why do you care?”

“y/n, st–stop with this shit. Are you dating him?”

“Why do you care?”

As you persisted, your insistence slicing through the fragile veneer of Rick’s composure, a simmering rage ignited within him, fueling the flames of his resentment. With each passing moment, your few simple words bore deeper into Rick’s wounded pride, stoking the embers of his anger into a blazing inferno. The weight of your expectations pressed down upon him like a suffocating weight, a constant reminder of the vulnerability he sought to shield from your penetrating gaze. Fueled by a toxic cocktail of jealousy and insecurity, his temper flared, unleashing a torrent of pent-up frustration and bitterness.

“What the fuck– What d–do you want to hear, huh?!”, Rick leaned on his hands, which were lying next to your head.

“Rick, listen, you rejected me. You didn’t want me, remember? I can fuck and date however I fucking want! ”

“No! You fucking can’t!”, he screamed into your face, “You said– You said loved me! Talking about– about undying love and now?! Now you get with s–some young bastard from co–college who only wanted to– to fuck you anyway!”

“That’s exactly what you wanted, too! You only wanted to fuck me!”

“That’s not fucking true! I– The last fucking weeks were pure torture. I fucking m–miss you! I can’t fuck–fucking stop thinking about you, y/n. I miss your fucking smell, your h–hair, your voice. Fucking e–everything! I miss your face, the–the way you nag me to drink more water. Jesus fucking christ! I miss you. Why– Why the fuck are crying even more now?!”

With tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, you listened intently as Rick finally mustered the courage to confess the truth hidden behind his guarded facade. As his words washed over you, each syllable laden with the weight of unspoken longing and regret, a floodgate of emotions burst forth within you. Your heart soared with a bittersweet symphony of relief and elation, the echoes of Rick’s confession resonating deep within your soul. The tears that spilled from your eyes were not born of sorrow, but of an overwhelming sense of gratitude and validation, as you realized that the love you had held in your heart had not been in vain.

In a tender moment suffused with the weight of unspoken truths and undeniable desire, Rick leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours in the hazy embrace of the moonlit room. With a gentle touch, Rick cradled your face in his hands, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin. As your lips met in a fervent kiss, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away to leave only the two of you entwined in the delicate dance of passion and longing. With each caress, the walls he had built around his heart crumbled, leaving him vulnerable and exposed in the embrace of her warmth. In that moment of intimacy, you surrendered to the magnetic pull of your shared desire, bodies entangled in a silent symphony of love and redemption.

“You know– You know I’m not good with…emotions and shit. But– But you’re important to me and–and I’m not letting another man touch what’s mine.”

“You were jealous?”

“I wasn’t– Fuck it. Yes, yes, I was. Wanted to k–kill that motherfucker. The way he–he had his arm around–”, in the middle of his rant you wrapped your legs around Rick’s waist, pulling him closer. His crotch pressing against yours.

“Just so you know, I have been very, very lonely the last few weeks.”

“Oh? S–So you’ve been a good–good girl for daddy, huh?”, it didn’t take long for Rick to get hard, his bulge pressing against you, his hand now choking you slightly, “F–fuck, princess, daddy’s going to–to reward you for being so patient.”

[quillady]

desc: A Rick Sanchez who is too drunk to notice your absence until you call him. Where were you, why would you call him late at night if you left and most importantly, why were you not talking?

He stumbled across the hall, throwing his keys to your little shelf next to the door after making sure it's locked. He's surprised his body even listens to him at this point. He goes upstairs after taking a last sip and throwing his flask to the kitchen counter. He climbs up to your shared bed in loft, hugging you. He ignores your cold presence and lets himself fall to sleep.

Now if you are an alcoholic scientist with too less fucks to give-to anyone- you would groan and swear like him when someone interrupts your hardly fallen sweet sleep.

Yet when he sees the contact, all the sleep and drunkness washes away in distress and uncomfort.

"Y/N❤"

His hands shake as he looks over his shoulder, now sitting up. He removes the covers to face a human size doll version of you.

"FOOL"

Rick's mind go wild as the doll's voice box activates. Still ignoring the ring, he rips the box off the doll's throat and answers your call.

"H-hello?"

Most of the answers that were given by you would scare his tense self at that point. He could get frustrated, upset, dumped and even scared. He prepares himself to any answer from you yet what makes his stomach turn the most is the silence you give.

No sharp breath, no whisper, no call for help. Just silence. There isn't even a background noise. He tries making some noise to see if it'll come back from the phone but no. When he stands up, the phone between his ear and shoulder he finally hears it. A sharp, silent breath. He pulls up his pants and starts wandering around the house. He gets to the basement.

He finally gets himself together when he notices he can track you. The breath is yours, he knows that. Weird, but he is sure it's you. You called him to track your location no? As he expected, the result doesn't make him feel any better yet he grabs a shirt and a coat before grabb his ship keys and hopping in his car to get to you.

To Get To The Citadel

part-2-->

[lon3rlife]

Dating Rick Sanchez Headcanons

Mostly fluff. I’m going to ramble a lot because I love him sm

He’s extremely overprotective and would do absolutely ANYTHING to keep you safe, even if it means putting his own life on the line.

He comes and goes to your house as he pleases. You’ll come home to see him on your couch or stealing your food. He’ll also portal to your house in the middle of the night and get into bed with you without saying anything.

He’s not huge on pda, he’ll have an arm around you on the couch when you guys watch tv with the family and will hold your hand and give you a reassuring squeeze when you get anxious, but he won’t hesitate to get extremely touchy if someone is looking at you wrong.

In private though he’s a hugeee softie and will never let anyone know. If you’re working on something or cooking something in the kitchen he’ll come behind you and hug you from behind (you usually don’t even know he’s there and he scares the living shit out of you). He loves when you lay on his chest while he plays with your hair until you fall asleep, and in bed he’ll pretty much melt into you holding you tightly.

He loves your hair so much. If you’re brushing it he’ll stand there admiring you, and he just loves tangling his hands through and and playing with it while you guys cuddle.

You guys always get into the dumbest fights like if pancakes are better than waffles or that he needs to do dishes if he comes to your house and eats your food without cleaning up. They leave you frustrated and Rick pouting like a child for a few hours until you guys kiss and make up.

I think this is canon but he’s actually a really good cook. Once a week you guys make it a habit to cook a homemade meal together to get a short break from the stress of everything and spend quality time together.

If you leave for a trip for work or with friends he will be EXTREMELY clingy the days leading up to the trip because you guys spend so much time together he doesn’t know what to do with himself when your gone. (He ends up portaling to your hotel at night because he isn’t able to sleep without you)

Kisses you anywhere. On your lips, your forehead, your neck, chest, arms, you name it.

He’s definitely a bad influence 100%. He will get crazy alien drugs and take them with you, he won’t force them on you but if you don’t want to take them he’ll be like “come on baby you’re missing out don’t be lameee.” He will also take you to parties on different planets just to get completely shitfaced.

Even though he’s a night owl and stays awake most nights, his favorite time of day is the morning. He loves the intimacy of laying with you just talking about anything without any specific plans for the day, the sun hitting your face just right still sleepy and you playing with his fingers is the most special time for him.

PETNAMES 1000%. He will use the most obnoxious ones as well, usually he’ll call you baby, sugar, honey, or a shortened version of your name.

You get along very well with the Smith family, especially Morty which makes Rick sooo happy. Also you help Morty with his homework because Rick sure as hell doesn’t, and Morty looks up to you so much and trusts you enough that he’ll talk to you about anything he needs to get off his chest.

Omfg writing these are sooooooo much fun if anyone wants me to write more I will cause I have so many more but it’s like 1am and I’m tired

[cyberstrm]

rick sanchez as a boyfriend headcannons

18+, minors dni!!!! nsfw ahead

loves playing with your hair. loves loves loves when you put your head in his lap and he can run his hands through your hair

rough and sloppy kisser. this man does not know how to kiss gently or sweetly

pet names like baby, bunny, sugar,,,

lovessss having you on his lap, it's such a power rush for him. your ass against his thighs,,, hands on your hips,, mm

if you ever go on missions, that man is protecting you with his LIFE

not a huge pda guy, more of a 'i want everyone to know this is MY baby', so he's v handsy 24/7. always has a hand on your back, shoulder, waist, ass

loves to smoke w u

surprisingly good at first aid. you hit your knee on a table? he simultaneously holds an icepack on your knee while turning the table to ash

loves when u wear his clothes, especially his labcoat

will literally make or get you anything you ask for, but won't give it to your in person. he simply leaves for you to find.

exclusively big spoon. only holds.

[bouncybongfairy]

Pretty Please?

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader

Summary: Summer asks you to pet sit her hamster while her family goes on vacation. Of course, you agree because you're such an amazing friend. Definitely not because you and her grandpa would have the entire house for yourselves.

Word Count: 2.0k+

TW: Intox Kink, Worship Kink, Masochism, Dumbification, Nasty Smut

Best Ref Account Ever: @kaionyx

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

You were sitting with your friend group, eating lunch in the quad. Quite boring, the whole school seemed to be yearning for the end of the day. Summer was bragging about the ski trip her family would be leaving for, after school. In all honesty you truly couldn’t care less, happy for her, just not interested. Picking at your salad that had gone soggy as she went on and on. 

“Do you think you could do me like a real solid?” she asks, resting her hand on your shoulder. 

“What is it?” you asked with a sigh. 

“Well, I need someone to come and feed my hamster while I'm gone. I was hoping because you're like, my best friend ever, if you would do that for me?” she asked, trying hard to butter you up. 

“You want me to drive back and forth to your house to mine for 3 days?” you asked, trying to knock some sense into her. 

“Oh my god obviously you can stay in my room,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“Ugh isn’t your grandpa going to be there?” you asked. 

“Yeah but he won’t come out of the garage. Please I’m literally begging you,” she pleaded, “What if I leave you an eighth of bud?” she whispered in your ear. 

“Make it a quarter and I’ll do it,” you said, which delighted her beyond belief.

As soon as you got home, you started packing your bags. Starting to slightly regret ever agreeing to pet sitting. Folding your clothes and placing them neatly in your duffle. Suddenly it occurred to you that her grandpa would be home. Of course in front of Summer you put on a front like him being there would gross you out. When in reality every time you slept over at her house, you would find yourself staring at him. Taking in all his little details; like how far he spreads his legs when sitting on the couch. Or how his eyes dilate when he’s a little more than tipsy. Your mind started wondering about all the possibilities of how your visit would go. It wasn’t something you felt shame about. You had already made your way through all the halfway decent guys at your school. To be quite honest you’ve wanted to hookup with an older guy for a while. All the dudes you’d been with are just so inexperienced and you were tired of that. 

Summer and her mom picked you up. She needed to show you around before leaving. Helping you with the bags, the two of you make your way to her bedroom. Where she gave you the weed she promised, even leaving her bong for you to smoke with. Showing you how to work the T.V and of course introducing you to Mr. Man the hamster. You laughed for a good five minutes over the name. Once she headed out with her family, you immediately started rolling up. Dumping the guts out her window, landing in Jerry’s garden, you felt bad but not really. As soon as you took a few hits off the blunt, you noticed it was strong. Giving you an intense head high, it did make you feel more relaxed. For a moment you were certainly feeling out of place. Getting bored, you start shuffling through your bag, looking for pajamas to wear. Immediately your mind went to Rick, thinking about what pare he would like the most. When you first got to the house, it felt wrong to think about him that way. After smoking, you really didn’t give a fuck. Even if Rick told Summer which is highly unlikely because.. Ew. Losing Summer’s friendship in exchange for hooking up with Rick sounded like a fair deal. You only took a couple hits off the blunt, after putting it out, you tuck it behind your ear. Making sure to stuff the lighter in your sock for safe keeping. Grabbing the hamster food, you put a couple scoops into his bowl. 

“You’re such a cute little guy, i’m about to fuck your great-grandpa. Don’t tell mommy,” you baby talked to him through the glass while giggling. 

Wearing a white oversize t-shirt with socks, you make your way down stairs. Hoping to run into him, the first place you checked was the kitchen. Even though you didn’t find him, it was a prime opportunity to raid the fridge. Taking a jar of pickles out and setting them on the counter before opening the freezer. Finding a dark green bottle with a white label with big X’s across it. Bringing it out and setting it on the counter with a crisp -clank- sound as the glass hit the counter. The bottle opened with a loud pop which made you giggle a bit. You brought it to your nose and immediately recoiled at the pungent aroma. 

“Smells like fucking rubbing alochol,” you mutter to yourself, grabbing a cup and pouring some. 

It wasn’t like you were a stranger to alcohol, you’d been drunk plenty of times. Thinking it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, you chug what you had in the cup. You truly felt like the wind was knocked out of you. The coughing and gasping was only making your chest burn more. Taking a few sips of water from the sink to help wash it down. Similar to the weed, the effects of the alcohol were coming on quick and strong. Your cheeks were flushed and you no longer were worried about appearing sober. A gasp of excitement falls from your lips as you remember the existence of the pickles. Your mouth was salivating as you pulled one out of the jar. 

“What are you doing?” a rough voice rang through the kitchen from the doorway. You jump, turning around to face him. 

One of the first things you noticed about him was how tall he was. Seriously, his head nearly hit the fucking ceiling. Eyes had thick, dark circles underneath them; this only added to his grumpy edge-lord vibe. He was wearing a wifebeater tank that was smudged with black soot. Shamelessly staring at the dick print on his pants. 

“I'm pet-sitting for Summer,” you said, unable to hide your giggles. He started walking towards you, till he was literally less than a foot in front of you. This wipes the smile off your face, he reaches out and grabs the bottle that was sitting on the counter behind you. 

“You drank this?” he asked, his breath smelled just like the bottle. 

“Yeah -hiccup- sorry, but is it okay if I have another sip?” you asked while reaching for the bottle. At first, Rick held it out of your reach but then changed his mind. Taking a few swings from the bottle and then handing it to you. His hand just barely touched your chest as he gave you the bottle. Instantaneously making you wet, well.. wetter. 

“If you wanna drink yourself sick that’s your choice,” he said before turning and walking back to the garage. 

Not quite done shooting your shot, you follow him. Due to the room being made entirely of concrete, it was freezing. It was then that you remember how little clothing you had on. 

“Out!” he called out. 

“I’m scared and lonely all by myself in there, pretty please let me stay?” you asked, which made him turn towards you. You could feel the heat build in your belly as he approached. 

“Awe you’re just so scared? I think it’s slightly endearing how you’re trying to play innocent but I know a whore when I see one. No offense but you’re low hanging fruit,” he said, now towering over you with a smirk on his face. 

“Fuck if you don’t wanna fuck me then why are you saying these thing, making me drip down my thigh?” you asked, reaching down to hook your hand onto his belt. He smacks your hand away before responding, 

“I’m a fucking god, I have queens on thousands of planets offering their ass to me on a plater. Why would I stick my dick in you?” he asked. In response you poured out some of the bottle onto the floor, right onto his shoes. At first he looked livid, like he was going to lay into you but you interrupted him,

“Oops sorry I can be so dumb at times, let me clean that for you,” you said, getting onto your knees and bringing your tongue to his shoes. Licking the alcohol off them while looking directly up to him. He chuckled, like he was humored by your actions. 

“Judging by how you’re throwing yourself at me, I bet you were craving my cock for weeks. Every time you’re here I always notice you staring at me, who would’ve known you had such nasty thoughts behind those pretty little eyes,” he said, tilting his head as he watched. Taking the blunt out from behind your ear and placing it between his lips. 

“May I light that for you?” you asked, pressing your cheek to his shoe, trying your best to flash your doe eyes. 

He used his finger to call you up. Scrambling to your feet, you pull the lighter out of your sock. Bringing the flame to his face, admiring his features in the orange glow. He looked so powerful and strong, you wanted him to tear you apart. He blew the smoke directly into your face, you took a playful bite out of the cloud. Grabbing the bottle from you, he pours more onto his shoes. You took his hint and went back down, now licking the bitter liquid off his other shoe. Taking you off guard, he brings his other foot and presses the soul into your neck. At first you were giggling, liking the way he was degrading you. This was until he began adding more pressure onto your airway. Even as you were gasping and wheezing, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring him. The way his jaw went razor sharp while exhaling a cloud of smoke. Watching his facial expression twist from a small smile to full on beam. Your vision was becoming blurry and a familiar burning sensation radiating in your chest. 

Finally removing the pressure from your neck, coughing as you regain your full consciousness and breath. He bent down and pulled you up to your feet. A mixture of inebriation and lack of oxygen to your blood made him need to support your weight partly. He grabbed your shirt and lifted it above your head and threw it to the ground. Still slightly light headed, he grabbed your jaw so he could stare directly into your eyes. Reaching his other hand down, and feeling the wetness between your folds. You shudder and let your mouth fall open, now fully aware. He was shocked by how wet you were. Completely untouched and being treated like an absolute dog and you were still hanging on to his every touch and word. Staring at him, half-lidded and willing to take anything he gave you. This was enough to send him into a feral state. Without saying anything he picked you up and bent you over the desk. He used his foot to push your legs apart. Bringing your arms behind yourself, using your hands to spread yourself open.

“Holy shit you’re such a deranged little cocksleeve, you just eat my abuse up huh,” he said, pulling his pants down and fucking the entire length of his cock into your pussy. You cry out from him practically ripping you in half. Tears sting into your eyes and your legs that are on their tiptoes begin shaking. A mixture of moans and choked sobs spill from your mouth. He lifts your upper body from laying against his desk to being pressed against his chest. Using your throat to secure you there while whispering into your ear,

“What’s wrong slut, I thought you wanted this. You wanna stop? Maybe you can’t handle it,” he practically growled, still keeping himself fully inside you. 

“No. P-please,” you cried out, willing to do anything to get friction between your bodies. 

“Oh? You want me to keep tearing you apart? Beg me to,” he said, tightening his grip on your throat.

“Please, I w-want you to destroy me!” you screamed out, willing to do anything to get him fucking into you. 

Once the words left your mouth, he began pounding into you at an alarming rate. Your wetness was leaking down both of your inner thighs. Letting your body go limp, letting him do whatever he wanted. He kept your back pressed against his chest, admiring your chest bouncing as he killed your pussy. Feeling you stretch and tighten around his dick was driving him crazy. It was more than your physique that was satisfying him. It was the fact that you were so horny from being at his command and control. He liked how easy you were to manipulate, how willing you were to be turned into a braindead, cock hungry zombie. Feeling his orgasm nearing, his thrusts were becoming more erratic and sloppy. Fucking into you so hard that sound was involuntarily being forced out of you with every thrust. As you begin to cum, you start panting, completely blissed out. Feeling your cunt clamp down on his cock as you rode out your orgasm sent him over the edge. Filling you with hot cum, spilling out the sides of your pussy. After the encounter you completely blacked out, passed out. He let you stay slumped over that portion over the desk. Cum still leaking out of your abused hole. Simply pushing your body over to the side slightly after pulling his pants up. Reliting the blunt and ashing onto your ass before continuing working on his latest project.