summary: rick didn't expect being more "emotionally available" would expand into his dating life, but here you are, making him feel ways he forgot he knew how to
wc: ~0.8k
cw: rick sanchez. he's the content warning. maybe season 8 spoilers? like not really but it's inspired off of it, so take that as you will. it's just an insane amount of rick fluff in so few words.
part 2... thoughts?
masterlist and taglist!
it was rick's first time going on a date without the sole purpose of fucking. the first time he had intentions of seeing where things would go.
he said he was trying to be more emotionally available, and he meant it, goddamn it.
rick had met you as just another vigilante of sorts, hanging on the outskirts of the resistance with space beth. you were close to her age, though, everything about you gave away that you had seen so much more. someone written from the same ink as a younger him, someone running from something bigger than them. he saw the look in your eyes, the same war-torn, numb look his own held.
after an impromptu team-assassination, the three of you stopped down to celebrate the victory at plim plom tavern. the night was filled with shots and stories, an air about the place that reminded him fondly of his blood ridge days.
though he wasn’t nearly as wasted as he could be, he was just more distracted than anything else. rick did not understand what it was about you that he couldn’t shake. it was almost as though he'd met you before, like you were someone he knew in another life. he sat there all night like he was waiting for it to click. but it didn't.
still on the tip of his tongue, your laugh was the only thing on his mind, fighting a fierce runner up of the way your eyes sparkled as you told a story about something you were proud of. he wasn't above checking his vitals at that moment, inquiring if maybe he'd been laced with something. not that rick was opposed to molly in any situation, rather just needed something to explain the way he felt. he couldn't remember the last time he just... felt this way. naturally. and he almost felt guilty admitting that it felt nice.
space beth took off after a few drinks, something about a promise she made to morty and his science project. rick was left alone with you, and for the first time since he could remember, he felt... relaxed.
content.
it wasn't a feeling he was used to, and voices in his head screamed for him to get the fuck out of there. but something stronger inside him, a curiosity he remembered from his youth drowned them all out.
he offered to portal you anywhere you wanted to go, and he was shocked to hear you ask to hitch a ride back on his way to earth. you were stopping at space beth's apartment just out of orbit, a favor you was cashing in for aid in the last mission, you'd said. truthfully, he didn't give two shits about why you were staying there, or where you were going. he was just happy to get some extra time with you.
rick drove leisurely, taking his time to show you his favorite galaxies in the distance, to point out planets he'd visited on the way home. he was reluctant when he pulled to your stop, frustrated with himself that he was so torn to see you go. he'd met you less than 12 hours ago, what the fuck was this grip you had on him?
you turned towards him, grabbing one last swig of his flask before heading in. he offered you a sloppy smirk in return.
"thanks for the tour, rick. it's nice to see this universe from a different perspective."
"yeah, well, i've d-done it all, b-uurgh baby. m-maybe i'll take you to boob world sometime, that'll really piss morty o-off."
you laughed, and he couldn't help but laugh with you.
"i don't know, you've got me pretty interested in that festival on blackjack 9 tomorrow. "
"y-yeah?" rick asked excitedly. fuck, why the fuck was he so excited? "i'd have to, y'know, move some stuff around, but i s-suppose i could g-uurrp get you around dinnertime. there's an insane gump shrim's in the furp rock plaza o-on the way."
you gave him a smile that melted 10 years off him. "it's a date."
so now there he was, getting ready in his garage and glaring at summer in the mirror as she stood in the doorway and mocked him for his choice in flannel as opposed to a lab coat.
"s-s-shut the fuck up! piss off, summer!" he grabbed an empty beer bottle and hurled it towards her, earning a sharp scream and slamming of the door in response.
rick took a deep breath and one last look in the mirror before heading out into the stars, anxious to brave his first date in over 40 years.
Your boots trekked through the thick wet mud that covered the ground near the farm house. The rain pattered down against the tin roof of the barn, it had been like this for the past week, nothing but rain. With a soft oink Rick’s conjoined pig came trotting out. You had affectionately named him Oinkers. He was large even for having two mouths.
He butted his head against your leg.
“ Hang on buddy, I have to feed the chicks first. ”
You gave his head a soft pat before padding off to fill the chicken pin with seeds. You poured the bucket across the pin before hurrying off to get the pig feed. You came back before filling the trough. You only had two pigs, Oinkers and Bacon, you were allowed to name one, and Rick unfortunately named the other.
He allowed you just one more pet, a cow. Rick offered the name Beefy, but you settled on Dottie. She was your favourite of all your pets.
You filled her trough with hay and special treats, before leaving the animals to eat their dinners. The rain began to pour harder as you started on the walk back to the house. You laughed as you ran through the rain letting the droplets catch in your hair and soak through your dress.
Finally when you reached the porch the rain was pouring. You were completely soaked, water droplets dripping down your legs and face. A chill ran down your back as you stood on the porch in your muddy boots and wet clothes.
Gently you opened the front door, popping only your head in.
“ Rick? ”
No answer.
“ Rick, I need you! ”
After a few minutes Rick came trudging down the stairs. He had a burp rag thrown over one shoulder and an empty bottle in hand.
“ Did you just put her down? ”
“ Yeah, out like a light. Why aren’t you inside? ”
“ My clothes are wet, can you grab me new clothes? ”
You watched as Rick walked off, presumably to grab you clothes. As you waited you began to pull off your wet clothes. You kicked off your mud covered boots before pulling your dress over your head, you sighed in annoyance as you realized the rain had soaked through underwear and bra. You stood naked on your porch draping your dress and your wet undergarments over the guardrail. Luckily there was no one for miles, only dense forests surrounded your home.
Rick opened the front door with warm dry clothes in hand. His eyes wandered over your body appreciatively, but he didn’t say anything. He stood quiet watching as you took the clothes before you dressed yourself.
“ How were the animals? ”
“ Good, Oinkers almost pushed me over. ”
A small giggle left your lips as you stepped inside the house, letting Rick close the door behind you.
“ Did she go down okay? ”
“ Yep, fell asleep before I even finished her story. ”
You smiled leaning up to press a kiss to Rick’s Cheek. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His head dipped down, his lips finding yours in a deeper kiss.
“ She’ll be out for a while.. ”
You only responded with a nod, your hand’s sliding up to tangle in Rick’s hair.
A shriek escaped you as Rick picked you up carrying you over to the sofa. He dropped you down with a soft thud, tugging a blanket over both of you.
He liked this little life you were leading, his wife, his baby, his farm. He no longer had to worry about the threat of power hungry Rick’s raiding his farm, or rogue Morty’s coming to attack. It was just him, you, and your baby. He never had to rely on anyone again, he could supply himself and you with everything you would ever need, and that’s all you would ever need.
rick sanchez calling you pet names when you’re out of ear shot to other people
“my girl and i…” “the missus wanted to…” etc.
him being somewhat aloof to who you two are to each other when you’re both together with other company, but when he’s on his own with other people- will never refer to you as something demeaning or degrading and gets incredibly defensive when someone pokes lighthearted fun at yall’s relationship.
but in the dark of night when the both of you are undone and winding down from the labors of the day:
he coaxes up to you.
pulling on your shirt to move closer to him while watching interdimensonal cable, or playing with your hair while you talk to him about something you’re passionate about.
he even offers soft exhales and the twitch of a smirk when you purposefully burst out with corny jokes because you know it irks him
but he doesn’t say anything about it.
the man who bends the fabric of space and time to his will just because he can- sits and listens to you ramble and watches shows that you like and purposefully takes notice to your interests and hobbies
when you decline sleeping over in his room, or are busy one night where he cannot come over to your place- he becomes irritable.
he’s reliant on you in ways he refuses to acknowledge within himself.
he deep down knows that he’s already let you in.
in moments of intimacy where you’re pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck to go faster, harder, slower, right there…
moments like this where he’s buried in-between your legs and every hair on his body is on edge for the anticipation of your climax. your pleasure. your wants and needs.
he wants nothing more than to feed your every hope and desire to you.
he wants to feel the bruises form on his back from you gripping him, he wants to feel wanted. needed. he wants to feel like he’s earned you.
that he’s earned this bliss. that he’s earned the ease he feels when being in your presence. the excitement he gets from playing house with you.
the rush of adrenaline and anticipation when you open your mouth to tell him to lock the door behind him.
in these moments where your physical existence and his overlap in the most erotic way- is when he calls you pet names to your face
At first Rick isn’t huge on pda or physical affection because he’s scared to let his guard down or be vulnerable.
The first time you give him a genuine hug he just tenses up and has no idea how to react. He actually acts like a stray cat who doesn’t know how to handle any human interaction.
But once he gets comfortable he is all over you, he’s been so touch starved for so long he genuinely has no idea what to do with himself.
He’ll always be touching you in some way or another. Whether it be his hand on your thigh when he’s flying his ship, an arm draped over your shoulder while you’re watching tv, or his arm around your waist or his hand on your ass when you go out in public.
He also has no sense of TMI and will follow you anywhere, he’ll just let himself in when you’re in the bathroom, or just hop in the shower with you with zero warning.
He’ll wrap his arms around you when you’re making something in the kitchen and put his head on your shoulder, just enjoying the closeness of the two of you.
Sometimes Morty or Summer walk in on him being sweet and they tease the living shit out of him.
When cuddling in bed he prefers to be the big spoon, he always needs to know that you’re really there, safe in his arms.
I haven’t written anything in so long I’m trying to get back into it so give me some requests💖
WORDS: 1.4K
SUMMARY: Trying to give Rick a blowjob causes the ship to crash on a planet with a unknown aphrodisiac in the air.
WARNINGS/TAGS: Established Relationship, Smut, Porn with some Plot, Intercourse (Gender-neutral), Interrupted Blowjob, Ship Crash, Crash Landing, Aphrodisiac Sex, Air aphrodisiacs, Body Shaking, Oversensitivity, Mention of Sweat (Wanting to taste sweat)
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Fingers mingling with the cold metal of Rick's belt buckle, mouth watering at the thought of tasting his thick cock. Bent over the middle console, head tucked under Rick's arms as he drove through the stars in promise of a planet getaway.
Working with the swerving vehicle, finally unbuttoning his tan pants, only for your head to slam into Rick's stomach. Falling over, knees no longer digging into the passenger seat but resting uncomfortably in the middle.
"Fuck, fuck!" Rick curses, trying to wrangle the ship from whatever went wrong.
Body pressing against you while getting up, fighting Rick's swerving, making it back into the worn passenger seat. Seeing the problem, Rick struggling to drive the ship out of a planet's atmosphere.
"Why don't we just land?" You ask, raising your voice over the blaring ship.
"Because I don't know this planet," he quickly explains, slowing the ship down, allowing the planet's atmosphere to engulf it. Cruising along the clear sky, feeling the ship start to burn up in its atmosphere as Rick looks the planet up, eyes quickly scanning over the data.
"We're landing, the air is breathable," he says, giving you no room for input. Heading towards land, the ship shaking with the smell of smoke, watching the bumper fly off, earning a frustrated sigh from Rick.
Looking over at the old man, belt undone, pants unbuttoned, cock pressing painfully against his brown pants, twitching with disappointment, promised to have your mouth wrapped around its girth.
"Fuck, hold on," he warns, pulling the wheel back to soften the landing. Putting your seatbelt on, finally, holding the handle attached to the door as the ship hits the ground. Sliding atop a field of blue grass, dirt caking up, slowing the ship to a stop, jolting you back in the seat.
Catching your breath, staring at smoke billowing out from the busted engine, snapping out of the shock, feeling Rick's hand squeeze your thigh.
"You're okay," he says, more for himself than you. Reaching over you, opening the door for you to get out, seeing his side door caved in by dirt and grass.
Legs shaking as you exit the ship, walking into the hip-high grass. Breathing in the sweet-smelling air of the new planet, nauseated at its vibrant nature. Studying the forest surrounding you, trees that grow in cyan swirls, leaves an eye-burning pink against a light yellow sky that mixes with a red sun.
Looking away from the mess of color, noticing now the dirt you stood on is a light shade of violet. Brows furrowing, forcing the air in your lungs out as the sweet smell in the air grew stronger. Turning to Rick, seeing as he started on repairing the ship, dragging what parts of it had fallen nearby to the ship.
"Does the air smell sweet to you?" you ask, stepping closer to the man, using a hand to shade your eyes from the sun.
Looking up from his work, sniffing in the air, seeing it on his face, he does too. Watching as he quickly pulls out a device, scanning the surrounding land, hurriedly reading the text that shows before putting away the device.
"We need to get out of here," he says, turning back to his work, moving fast to puzzle the metal back together.
"Wait, Rick, why? Is the air killing us?" you ask, worry filling your voice.
"No, but if we don't, we'll be stuck here. The planet has a heat cycle that releases aphrodisiacs to encourage whatever life on it to reproduce. That's what we're smelling," he explains, before starting to weld the ship back together.
Sitting with the new information, starting to breathe in the air of the planet a little less. Fucking on a different planet had been the whole idea for your vacation, but a planet you didn't know the terrain of, nor the life that lived on it. By Rick's rushing nature, this 'cycle' didn't seem like a one-night or days-long ordeal.
Covering your nose, hoping to lessen the intake of the aphrodisiac, afraid of how it affects you. Focusing on Rick, trying to take your mind off the many scenarios it holds. Studying the scientist's body, taking note of his arms, seeing how they flex when lining up the metal.
Eyes leading down to his hands, swallowing something heavy in your throat as his fingers grip the tools. Legs spread open, allowing for the sparks to fall onto the violet dirt. Inhaling a shaky breath, remembering the hours to nights you spent between them.
Feeling a flood of warmth wash through your body, limbs tingling as hot blood pulls away, centering between your thighs. Struggling to walk, stumbling over the flat terrain, mouth watering, needing Rick.
Needing to smell him, touch him, taste him, to run your fingers through his fluffy blue hair as he fucks the shit out of you. Insides growing hollow, aching for Rick's cock to fill the emptiness. Touching his shoulder, body shivering at the feel of his hot skin.
"Rick," you whisper, voice sounding hoarse. Tightening your hold onto Rick's shoulder, nails digging into his flesh, wanting to lick the sweat off the side of his face.
"I know," Rick chokes out. Hammering metal, fatigue was wearing him down as well. Chest rapidly rising then falling, his head tilting to the side as your hand travels to his scalp, Rick's eyes closing once your fingers run through his blue tufts of hair.
Gripping the soft strains, pulling a groan from Rick's throat, stopping his work, focusing only on your touch. Leaning in, letting the tools drop from his hands, body turning towards you, hand covering yours, bringing it to his lips.
Moans hum between the hungry kisses he gives your palm, tasting his own sweat, causing jealousy to burn within you. Subsiding quickly, though, as the kisses trail up your arm, greed overcoming him. Standing, using what strength he possesses, trading the skin of your arm for lips. Nerves exploding, insides shifting, now eager for what the planet's effects are.
Hand cupping your cheek as the other falls to your hip, leading you, back meeting the window of the ship, unbroken, as if shards of glass would stop the bonfire inside both of you.
Tugging, ripping off one another's clothes, lips leaving the others cold with worry, this would stop. Witnessing only a mere flash of Rick's hard cock, throbbing red, his hand wrapping around its thick girth. Body shaking at the sight, every atom in your body convulsing at the sight of Rick's cock.
Tearing it away from your line of sight, pulling a whine from your throat. Moans escaping his mouth as the head of Rick's cock enters you. Thick girth burning within your walls as the head of his cock carves its way up, hips burrowing between your thighs, holding one up with a feral grip.
Moans harmonizing, heads falling back, eyes closing as they roll back. Finding Rick's body, fingers dipping as if he would let you go, taking away the firework of your cells reforming, heating up, ready to combust with energy, on the edge of creating a universe.
Instantly thrusting, thighs slapping against your inner thighs, flushing the skin with irritation. Rick's loud, rugged moans encourage warm waves of fatiguing pleasure throughout your body. Unintelligible curses spill from your mouth as his hips continue to find a deeper angle, needing every inch of your wet walls clutching around him.
Breathing heavily, inhaling more of the planet's aphrodisiac, flaming the fire burning with every thrust, touch, and kiss he leaves upon your hot skin. Sweat prickling on every inch of your skin, lubricating the song of skin slapping from Rick's feral thrusts.
Climax building quickly, body needing to burst, too sensitive to keep it down for any longer. Tongue too heavy to form the words to tell Rick your end was close, his body not far from the state of yours, breaking down, buckling with each thrust.
Smashing his lips against yours, moans humming, Rick's hips pounding until they come to a halt, the final slam sending you over the edge. Bodies melting together, sloppy kisses stealing the moment. Feeling as if you were floating mid-air, cumming in the arms of Rick, sweaty bodies pressing against the window of his broken ship.
Coming down from the arctic high, muscles tensing up, body shaking as Rick falls to rest atop yours. Making a home in the nook of your neck, only to abruptly move away, avoiding looking at your naked body. Shifting to the back of the ship, opening up the trunk, hearing glass vials rapidly clanking together as heat starts to creep back between your legs.
Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.
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It’s October.👅 i request a lil smutty micro fic for Ricky.
imagine his reaction to seeing his s/o in the most skimpy Halloween costume ever and his pants just go UP. Like I’m talking serious boner.
This is like my third time requesting and you’ve never disappointed me I would like kiss you a lil if I ever met you
SO SORRY THIS IS SO GODDAMN LATE LMFAO..... AND THANK YOU SM FOR THE KISS HAHA! I APPRECIATE IT AND THANK YOU SM FOR SUPPORTING ME AHHHHHH!!!!!
-----------------------------------
Fuck.
Rick's pants tighten the second you enter through the front door of the Smith family home. You're dressed in a revealing home-made cat costume.
A tight black tank top and tiny black shorts with a belt that carries the light weight of a flimsy, cheaply-bought cat tail. You've got a headband with clothed cat ears attached to it.
Fuck.
Rick doesn't know how to talk to you normally when you're like this. When he's reminded of the fact that you're a woman. His woman.
You greet Beth and Jerry with hugs, handshakes, and loud giggles that echo through Rick's skull like a prayer. You remind Beth that you're here to house sit and give candy out to the trick-or-treaters while her and Jerry go on a date night as Morty and Summer are at a house party.
Rick nods at you, a simple enough acknowledgement- and strolls over to the living room couch.
He leans his body against the cushions and puts one of the pillows on top of his hard-on. He feels the sweat building pearl sized beads on his temples and billow down his angled face.
He takes a deep breath and focuses on the TV.
"Rick!" You call out from the kitchen. "Can you help me with this bowl of candy? I can't reach where you hid it!" You bellow out, getting impatient by the second.
Rick walks into the kitchen and finds you reaching for a bowl that's up on a shelf too high for your stature.
Rick silently groans and bites his lip in quiet agony as he sees your shirt ride up your abdomen and your too-tight shorts emphasize your figure.
Rick reaches out behind you and pulls out the ceramic candy bowl you were dead-set on.
"Happy?" He groans, handing it to you without making much intended eye contact.
"Thank you." You grin, taking the bowl from his possession and placing it on the cold surface of the kitchen counter as you rip bags of assorted candy to pour into the hollow dish.
"Hey Rick." You start. He hums in response, still not making your observant gaze.
"Are you upset.. at me?" You ask quietly, furrowing your eyebrows as you struggle to open another bag.
Your question startles and annoys him simultaneously.
How could you not know what you do to him?
Are you doing this on purpose?
Are you provoking a response from him? Perhaps premeditated punishment?
Don't you know how sexy you look right now?
How bad he wants you, it physically pains him?
Can't you tell that he's pulled his shirt over his pants rather than his usual tuck-in because of the raging boner you've given him?
He's thinking of the different positions he wants to fuck you in tonight and you're worrying if he's mad at you or not. Poor baby. He thinks to himself.
"No, baby." He shakes his head at you.
You turn towards him and cock your head slightly, signaling your confusion.
He grabs your hand from wrestling with the plastic opening of yet another candy bag and leads it to his groin.
"Y'see what you do t'me, hun?" He groans softly, rubbing your knuckles against the zipper of his pants, adding to the friction he's been feeling, creating euphoria.
You gasp softly, finally meeting your eyes with his.
"Can I help you?" You ask politely. This makes him chuckle.
"Well, I'd hope so. Y-you caused it, sweet girl." He bites his lip as you unzip his pants and take him whole into your pretty mouth.
Rick Sanchez being obsessed with kissing your cunt.
Giving soft, barely audible kisses to your clit, lapping up your juices slowly as you get increasingly excited.
Teasing you by slightly opening his mouth to reveal his tongue soooffttlyy grazing against your clit while he makes eye contact with your pretty blushed up face.
He asks if you like it when he's soft with you like this.
You say yes.
He moans into your cunt, digging his face into your pussy. The vibrations making you shiver away from his touch, but he pulls you right back into his grasp.
Clawing his fingers into the dough of your thighs to keep you still as he has his way with your beautiful body.
He quickly pulls away from eating you out to blow small breaths of air into your wet pussy. You shiver again, whining at his teasing.
He chuckles and bites hickies into the nape of your thigh, not letting you break eye contact with him.
He likes when you watch him. He grinds his hard on into the edge of the bed.
rick is so weird and strange like that guy is always staring at you and he stands so close to you. all the time. he’ll bitch at you for being in the way but reach around you to finish what he’s doing so that you don’t go anywhere. he’s so lame
oh my god- Rick catching you touching yourself to a voicemail he sent you- HNNG.
warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY. || controversially young!Reader (20s) x Rick C137 (70s) || slight degradation || masturbation || not proofread.
Rick had been trying to call you all day, but you had more to do than just abide by his wishes. you worked a typical job outside of being his assistant part-time- more like an intern because he certainly isn’t paying you.
the first time he called he was courteous enough to leave a voicemail. “Hey kid. First of all, don’t make it a habit of not answering my calls. Second, I gotta go to the Gloppy Drop system later. Those motherfuckers have the best ice cream and I’m stealing the recipe. Call me back by 5 or I’m not giving you a choice.”
his voice rang in your ears. ‘I’m not giving you a choice.’ Rick was notorious for taking what he wanted and holy shit- did you wanna see if he’d keep his word. let’s admit it, Rick is hot for an old man and you’re going through a dry spell. so the thought of someone like Rick (or maybe just Ric himself) was enough to make your head spin.
“I’m not giving you a choice.” - “I wasn’t asking, I was telling.” - “Stop whining.” - “Quit moving.” - “Shut up and take it.”
4:40.
your subconscious spiraled. you imagined any and every demanding phrase you could in his voice as you rushed to unlock your apartment door. you nearly tumbled into your bedroom while trying to shuffle your pants down your legs.
4:45.
15 minutes to get this done and call him back.
“You’re so lucky you’re pretty.” - “You don’t have a say here.” - “Did I tell you to move?” - “Shut the fuck up.” - “Take it.” - “This is all you’re good for.”
fuck. you were gone, absolutely lost in pleasure. lost in the thought of him.
4:58.
you were so close. whining and whimpering out loud for him as you pumped your toy into you rhythmically.
“I’m not giving you a choice.” - “You don’t have a choice.” - “No. Choice.”
5:00.
“oh fuck- Rick.” you moaned, lost in your own pleasure. so lost that you didn’t even hear the woosh of the portal forming in your room. you didn’t even notice he was there until you felt his weight on the mattress.
“OH FUCK- RICK?!” you shouted, covering yourself with your hands.
ricks defo the type of guy to get you to suck him off in the bathroom of some dingy alien bar
you're both wasted. the supply of drinks here are endless and the currency is close to nothing when exchanged, so ricks made it his own personal challenge to get you as drunk as possible.
drunker than you've ever been on earth, yet somehow you're not face down in the bar stool or throwing your guts up into your purse yet.
rick tries to explain how the weird alien alcohol mixes with some enzyme in your body and blah blah but he knows you're not really listening.
wasted rick likes to talk just for the fun of it, he could start up a conversation with a brick wall if he wanted to as long as he got to drone on about how smart he is and how shit the rest of the universe is in comparison.
you don't remember how you ended up with your knees pressed to the tile. either rick managed to sweet talk his way into this or you managed to piss him off enough to get here, but based on the look he's giving you and the comparably light grip he has in your hair you assume it's not the latter.
"that's it, baby. oh-oh yeah. all the- all the way down. that's it. good girl."
he's so fucking drunk it almost makes you want to laugh. smiling around his dick like some lovesick idiot as you listen to him continuously babble about how amazing you are, the hand at the base of your scalp dragging you all the way down his shaft until your nose is pressed to the tufts of hair at the base and you're struggling for air.
he taunts you just by holding you there until you're coughing and spluttering around him, pulling you all the way back to the tip as he shushes you with a sick grin.
"you're alright. didn't- didn't think i'd let you choke yourself to death, did you?"
before you have chance to reply he's sending you right back down, bobbing you up and down a couple times once you reach about mid way and groaning out with his head back against the wall.
"fuuuuuck, there you go. don't- don't fuck-- don't fucking stop."
he's vocal, always is, but especially drunk. it's unlike you to be so careless about the openness of the stall. the way the walls don't even reach the floor, the sore skin of your knees pressed against the tiles visible to any passers by who are most definitely aware of what's going on just based on the sounds ricks making.
but you're so fucking drunk, and he's so fucking good.
so heavy in your throat. thick and warm and delightful as he manages to slip past your gag reflex over and over, the alcohol relaxing your muscles as they allow him to slide over your tongue with ease.
you try to pull back to suckle on the tip a little as a means of catching your breath, but the look he shoots you is nasty and he's shoving you right back down. fucking your throat like he's punishing you.
"don't you- don't you fuckin' dare."
it's a growl, contrast to the sweet cooing he was giving you just a moment before but it's enough to spark that familiar obedience you possess for him. the kind he knows just how to drag out of you, even when you try to fight it.
he's not suuuuper mean though. he just knows your boundaries better than you do. he knows when you're truly in desperate need of air, and he's considerate enough to finally drag you from him with a pop, settling on prying open your mouth with a hand around your jaw, watching with smug admiration as your tongue lolls out for him. practiced, like you're body knows what to do before your brains even caught up.
he smacks the tip across your tongue a few times, the hand in your jaw coming up to stroke through your hair as he watches the tears roll down your cheeks.
he thinks you're so fucking beautiful like this. so wrecked and needy for him and he plans on satiating that need for you so long as he gets what he wants first.
you feel him smear a mix of your spit and his pre over your lips, fighting the urge to lick it away before he gets the chance to compliment you.
"so fuckin'- so pretty, baby. my baby. all fucking mine. you got that?"
you nod, eager to please and he wastes no time diving back into your throat, moaning out when you constrict around him.
rick sanchez x fem!sub!reader
cw; no explicit smut but still rlly suggestive, alien bondage, dumbification, slight sex pollen, sexist undertones, belittling/mocking, praise, unspecified age gap, they are not related but he does call himself grandpa once, unspecified relationship between rick and reader
reader is dumb and subby and chubby coded <3
“St-stay still.” His words were a mere grumble as he walked to your left, rummaging through a nearby bush. You didn’t have the capacity to move regardless of his command. Your back had hit the ground rather roughly, and in your current state of mind, decision making wasn’t something you could be responsible for.
Rick was always good at dumbing you down. You didn’t know if he kept you around because he enjoyed the process of reducing you; or if you kept showing up because of how much you liked it. He’d been the first to introduce you to the true depth of your own obedience. He seemed tuned into you - easily coaxing you into a headspace of pure syrup, bypassing your defenses and emptying your head. He’d chastise you for thinking when you tried, reminding you that wasn’t your job - it was his. You were there to look pretty for him.
He returned to your side with a large oval egg in his hand, cracked and bruised like it was about to burst in his hands. He didn’t seem worried about whatever was hatching in his grasp, simply laying it down close to your thigh and brushing his thumb over the larger breaks in the shell as they expanded. Looking at the action made the blood in your veins thrum, beating heavily at the walls they were running within and making your head pound for just a moment. The excitement clashed hard with the steady nerves that were growing in your stomach as the egg exhibited more and more life. You hadn’t the slightest what this was, and it was dangerously close to you, close to the most vulnerable part of you. His eyes were practically shimmering, completely focused on watching this entity spring to life. The purple skies of whatever planet he’d brought you to fought the pigment of his irises, making his eyes look practically black. Having Rick’s full attention was rare, something to be terrified of. His full attention usually meant inevitable death or pain. He was a sentimentalist at heart, but he was a sadist at the surface, and he could be mean when he wanted to be. It’s what made this situation so horrifying - he engineered himself to be unpredictable. He hated being bested, refused to be one upped. You couldn’t read him if you tried, so you never did. Maybe he’d grown sick of you and this thing would kill you, maybe he wanted to witness a live action hentai and this thing was going to violate you. You couldn’t fight back, not against whatever was breaching the thin membrane of it’s home and certainly not against him. Even without his inventions and implants, his old frame held immense strength beneath the wrinkled skin.
You looked at the thing once more, seeing small, narrow tips of what had to be dozens of tendrils taking their first look at the world. They were pink and wriggling, growing wider in circumference as they creeped out of the shattered remnants of the egg. They seemed to move quicker when they met the ground, still slow but gaining consistency in their movements as they started the dizzying entanglement of the thigh that was closest to them. They were coarse, like vines, with blunt bumps protruding from the otherwise smooth surface of them. You’d expected it to be dry, to burn as it circled you, but it wasn’t. There was a trail of slime wherever they reached, oozing from the underbelly like a snail trail. You made the smallest noise, fear and inexplicable want forcing it’s way out of your throat as you reached down to pry it off. It was the only action that managed to break the haze of your clouded mind. A futile one, at that, because Rick’s hands grabbed at your wrists before they could make contact with them. You were squirming on the ground as they climbed higher, coiling around your legs, up your hips, circling your waist. The soft edges of your body were emphasized, slightly bulging through the vacant spaces as the constriction tightened. You did something familiar, you questioned him. Normally, you questioned him out of curiosity, wanting to know how his brain worked. Now, it was out of desperation, wanting to know what was about to happen to you. Your hands were held manually, and the rest of you was pulled taught in living alien bondage.
“Calco vines.” He’d said it like everyone knew what he meant. He often spoke like that. “They excrete a resin that- when they use it on creatures here, it kills them.” Your eyes flicked to his. “But on humans i-it’s like Viagra on steroids.” He smeared some of the sticky fluid over the exposed part of your leg. Your dress was riding up to the point of near exposure, the things wrapped around you keeping it plastered to your body, immovable. “Gets to the bloodstream through the skin. Makes people stupid, sweetie. Real nice and malleable.”
Your eyes were watering, your ability to think going from the normally pleasant blur to a completely indecipherable puddle. Your mind couldn’t remember how to move your limbs, for a second you worried that you’d forget how to keep your heart beating. Your chest was heaving slightly as Rick touched you. He was all gentle caresses and caring shushes as your watery eyes birthed pearly tears that ran down your cheeks. The innate comfort of his hands calmed the storming fear inside you. It was a nauseating dichotomy, confusing your already soft brain and making your instincts go haywire. You were soaking in between your legs, pudgy thighs wanting to close, but not having the will nor the strength. You couldn’t do anything but lay tied up, wrists bound to the ground now instead of locked within Rick’s death grip. His hands were everywhere they could reach. Even over your dress, it set you alight. Choked whimpers flooded out of you, unrestrained. You’d never felt so defenseless in your life.
“Fuck - y’look perfect like this.” He drank you in, doe eyed and squirmy on the floor, that little glint of fear on your face that he loved so much. “M-my pretty little girl, hm?” Your eyes slipped shut at the ownership, a hum of agreement coming from your throat even as you tried to swallow it down. He shoved your chin lightly, just to watch your head tip to the side and back, enjoying the boneless sensation you were displaying. You felt your underwear being separated from the sodden place between your legs, the cotton gusset soaked completely, a large wet patch being evident. He chuckled, a knowing and mocking huff at the results. It was always the same with you.
“You scared?” The air on this planet was ice cold against you, a shiver running up your immobile spine. “S-scared I’ll leave you all helpless?” He was keeling between your legs, you looked at him and nodded as best you could. You were scared of that, scared of being eaten alive by some creature on a planet you’re sure hadn’t even been detected by the feeble scientists back on Earth. More tears streamed down your face. Cooing at the pretty quiver of your lips, he smeared the salty droplets across the trembling extremities, making your face shine with the gloss of your own desperation.
“Don’t - don’t worry. G-grandpa would never dream of it, baby.” He bent your leg at the knee, holding the folded limb steady so your legs were more spread. “Just relax.”
sorry I wrote this in one night i'm kind of rusty but I love rick sm <3
I like the idea of rick sanchez being so angry, upset, and overall exasperated by his family/other external issues, that he portals over to your place just to slip your underwear off slightly just to fill you to the hilt.
grunting into the crook of your neck, mumbling about how bad he missed you, how easy it is to be with you, how good you make him feel about himself, how pretty you are bent over like this for him.
it's the only place he'll be completely unfiltered and honest, no loopholes, no mind games to avoid what he really wants to say to you.
he whines about how you don't visit him enough, how he misses your smell on his sheets, and the lipstick you leave on his mugs- even though he rolled his eyes every time he saw them stationed on top of his work desk.
he griiiinnddss into you. in a way- he's upset with you too, taking his anger out on your perfect body. you're always busy, too apathetic to his antics to bother giving him a worthy reaction.
but here.. when he's buried himself so deep into you, you can't help but react. moaning under his touch, the words 'more... yes... right there... faster... deeper...' bubble up from your throat and rick drinks them up.
responding with his own flattery: "you like that baby..?" "right here feels good, huh.." "you want more..?" "take it all. its all for you."
morty fucked up another mission. like always. a thousand other problems stacked on top of it, and rick has no desire to sort through those.
and then there was jerry. jerry’s dumbass alone was enough to ruin anyone’s day, and rick had the misfortune of seeing him nearly every day.
so the moment rick stumbles through the door, the first thing he does is grab you and shove your back against the wall.
his mouth is on your neck, sloppy and wet, alcohol heavy on his breath. drool slicks down your skin as he mutters curse after curse, drunk and pissed and kissing you like he needs it. like he’ll lose it if he doesn’t.
not at you. never at you.
he’s just angry. exhausted. overstimulated. and you’re there. you’re pretty. you’re his.
his fingers hook into your panties, shoving them aside, moving fast and sure over your already soaked cunt. you gasp; the fabric is damp before he even touches you properly.
“today went fucking shit,” he slurs into your skin.
his fingers rub rough, careless circles around your pussy, before he pushes two of them inside you. you clench immediately, needy and tight around him.
rick groans, low and almost surprised, pressing you harder into the wall with his free hand.
“fuckin’—s-so greedy,” he mutters into your shoulder. “y’know all the other ricks talk about it. how your pussy gets so desperate for a rick. gets all needy when it finally has one.”
you let him talk. you always do.
because you know it’s true. you’re wrapped around his finger. and he knows it too.
you still whine, soft and pathetic, and it makes his cock strain painfully against his pants.
“mm—rick, come on,” you breathe, hands sliding up to his shoulders, nails digging through his lab coat.
“don’t be mean. just fuck me. it’ll make you feel better.”
your hips roll, riding his fingers, chasing and begging for some type of friction.
rick chews the inside of his cheek, mouth faltering against your skin. he lets out a short grunt because—yeah. damn it you’re right.
he knows everything shuts off the second he’s inside you.
he flips you without warning, pushing you face-first into the wall. his mouth is rough at your neck, kisses messy and bruising. he fists your hair, tugging just enough to turn your head so he can crash his mouth into yours, and kiss you properly, the kiss sloppy and spit-filled.
you moan into it, and he swallows the sound whole, eyes dark with a look he only ever reserves for you.
your panties are shoved aside again, this time by the thick, aching tip of his cock. he drags it through your folds slowly, teasing, and sticky with pre-cum, circling your folds until you're shaking.
then he thrusts in, no warning, exactly as planned.
he always makes sure you’re ready — using fingers first, to work you open for him.
rick grips your hair with one hand, your hip with the other, holding you at the perfect angle as he fucks into you hard. rough. rude. fingers digging into your skin, teeth nipping at your neck, his cock slamming deep into your slick cunt.
it feels so good you bite down on your knuckle to keep from crying out.
rick scoffs as wet, obscene sounds fill the room, finally slipping back into his drunken rant.
“don’t think i let a bad fuckin’ day get me,” he mutters. “nah, y’should’ve seen it. i blew all their fuckin’ heads right off.”
his hand leaves your hip long enough to make finger guns, muttering “pow, pow,” with stupid sound effects, as he laughs in an almost manic state.
your head goes hazy. everything blurs. your body feels limp, all you give him are broken, filthy moans.
rick doesn’t like that.
he wants you listening. reacting. worshipping.
he fucks you harder now, almost cruel, hiccupping with a wet, disgusting noise. “babe—are you—urrp—are you listenin’?”
your ears ring, your head throbs, and all you can think about is him fucking you harder until you can’t speak, or walk.
you barely register his voice until he slams deeper, your walls clenching hard around him, milking him.
he groans, strained, fighting not to spill.
"cause y’know i’m rick fuckin’ sanchez,” he slurs. “and i can do whatever the hell i want.”
his tone drops, threatening almost. “just like i can stop fuckin’ your pretty pussy if you keep ignorin’ me.”
he stays buried inside you. waiting.
your head bobs weakly before you manage a soft, breathless, “yes—”
that’s all it takes. you don't even get to finish your sentence.
before he snaps back into motion, thrusting hard, cock twitching at the sound of your voice. you’re gone, babbling, eyes glassy, tears prickling as your body gives him everything.
rick keeps bitching about his day the entire time.
when he finally finishes ranting, and filling you until you’re leaking with him, he turns you around, hands gentler now. as he presses soft kisses along your face, voice still rough but threaded with something warm.
“you’re my good girl, yeah?”
“so fuckin’ good for me. takin’ all of me like that.”
his eyes stay on yours. the intimacy is strange. heavy. rick’s always like this after.
he’s greedy. selfish. a narcissist.
but he does love you. he just.. shows it wrong.
“y’my—urrp—my girl,” he murmurs. “my sweet girl.”
his head drops to your shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair, subtle enough that if you called attention to it, he’d scoff and deny it.
it’s just enough. for him.
then, casually, too casually, he says it, like the words didn’t nearly cut his mouth on the way out.
“that world you wanted to go to,” he mutters hoarsely. “the stupid candy one—urrp—yeah. i’ll take you there. whatever. anything for you, baby.”
the truth is, rick comes to you after days like this because he wants to open up, wants more than just angry rambling.
he just doesn’t know how to be vulnerable.
so instead, he does what he knows best.
he fucks you, gives you filthy praise, and lets that be his confession.
and secretly hopes it's enough to get you to stay.
rick fills his free time with inventions and fucking his sweet girlfriend—his sweetheart who laughs at all his stupid jokes, patiently listens to his endless rants, cringes whenever he makes a joke about their sex life around his family and adores his cranky moods cause she likes to be fucked silly while he goes on about his day.
“and oh, baby—the way i shot their heads off,” he drones on, barely paying attention to his own words as he watches your wetness cling to his pubs. he always does this, so consumed in the way your pussy is pulling him in, your hole so sloppy and wet that it’s damn near disgusting, that he barely remembers what he talked about after. you’re no better than him with how foggy your brain gets. he hears you hiccup, the soft sound snapping his focus back to you.
“are you uurrp listening?” he slurs, narrowing his eyes at you, the smugness in his voice impossible to ignore. it takes you a moment—almost too long—to nod, your breath shaky as you cling onto his lab coat. but he’d put up such a stubborn fight that you finally let him win. it doesn’t help that last time, he refused to wash the damn thing for weeks, claiming it smelled like you (not like he does anyway), and he wasn’t ready to lose that like clingy dog and its favorite toy.
“good,” he mutters, a grin tugging at his lips. “’cause I’ve got some news that’ll blow your tiny little mind.”
you hate this part—hate how he always demands a reaction to every word, every sound he makes, even when he’s completely wrecking you. it’s not like you can form coherent thoughts when he’s like this, but that doesn’t stop him. no, he thrives on the power trip, on making sure you’re there for every word he spits out. and when you tell him to tone it down, to maybe not be so loud for once, he just sneers, his voice dripping with arrogance. “i can do whatever the hell i want, babe. i’m rick fucking uurrp sanchez. let ’em hear.”
and you let him. you always let him because he’s got you wrapped around his finger, and he knows it. besides, if you don’t, he’ll draw this out for as long as it takes, leaving you dangling just out of reach. “mm, w-what is it?” you stammer, barely able to form the words. he grins, pushing himself closer, deeper, so you can feel every word reverberate through you.
"y'know, word on the cosmic grapevine is you've got the best uurrp pussy in every universe—at least, that's what all the other ricks won't stop runnin' their mouths about." he chuckles, the sound rough and guttural, before clearing his throat, his tone dropping lower. his hips move in deeper, slower rolls, and your eyes follow suit, fluttering back as he pulls every bit of control from you.
“but they don’t know what the real one feels like, do they?” his teeth grind slightly as he mutters under his breath, “amateurs.” you almost laugh at how ridiculous it is—him getting jealous over his own clones—but the thought barely takes root before his hips snap into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs.
through glossy eyes, you look at him, your voice trembling, thick with need as you reply, “no, no—you’re my god, rick.” you know it's what he loves to hear most, no matter the situation.
he looks back at you with bloodshot ones, his smirk widening as his ego swells with every shaky word you manage. “that’s right,” he huffs, his voice dripping his smugness. “means something coming from you, sweetheart. don’t let it go to your head.”
more rick sanchez. I NEED IT. I’m a fein for him. I need him bad. can you possibly make more head cannons about him? that’s if your stilling writing him lol. preferably nsfw? if that’s okay with you. please and thank you.
rick sanchez nsfw headcanon
enough people have asked for this. i yield! take it! it was written with much shame and strong confidence that i am correct about everything i'm saying. nothing gender-specific used for the reader!
wc: ~600
rick sanchez is one cocky motherfucker.
everyone knows that. and it does NOT fade away in the bedroom. he wants to be in charge, in control, and have all the power.
rick has a god complex, in the bedroom and out. that's just canon. he demands to be worshipped, to be the best at everything. he is al-fucking-mighty and makes sure you know it (and say it). for someone who doesn't believe in any religion, everything about his self-esteem in the sheets is downright pious.
and while he needs you to know that he is your god, rick's praise kink goes the other way too. he loves to tell you how good you are for him, how proud he is of you taking him so well, fucking him so good. he loves to hear the moans in response to his gentle words, a stark contrast to everyday demeanor.
thinking about rick throat training you lmfao. he's big, a challenge, but it was a feat you wanted to conquer. you had asked him about it one day, and he had his lips on you and undressed himself in an instant as he guided you down to your knees. he'd lead you down the length of his cock with his long fingers intertwined in your hair, downright whimpering as he praised you; good fucking job, that's it, you can do it, fuck baby, that's so fucking good falling as moans from his lips.
but just because he's an asshole, doesn't mean he doesn't care about you. i stand by that.
listen, i think he loves to degrade you. throw you around and manhandle you, tell you that you're nothing compared to him. i think he's an absolute dick. but the way he feels about you, it's a way he hasn't felt since her — he loved you too much to hurt you. he's excited to use you, to fuck your throat. he wants you to take all of him — but, not if you're uncomfortable and not enjoying it yourself.
again, please don't get me wrong. rick loves to see the bruises on your body after he's done with you. to deny you an orgasm to the point of tears and absolute misery. but, he isn't into it if you aren't. while he loves to push your boundaries and test the limits, he never wants to be the cause of your actual pain/distress. so, as soon as you tap out, say the safe word, or he can sense something's off, he's out immediately.
on a completely different tangent, i also think that rick loves to fuck you while intoxicated (duh). no matter how drunk or intoxicated you both may be, it's a kind of euphoria that can't be topped. everything is mixing together, and the amplified pleasure coursing through both of your veins is unbelievable. that being said, secretly, his favorite sex is when you're both fully sober, fully aware and involved in the actions taken. he loves that you can get him higher than anything else, a kind of bliss he's never felt before, when he feels how tight you are around him.
also, rick has 1000% created a lab-grown aphrodisiac before and used it on you. consensually, of course. at least, the first time. after he has the go-ahead on free use with it, rick loves to surpise you every now and then with an afternoon of insatiable pleasure. he loves getting to use you to get off, and how much you just can't get enough of it. it wasn't often, just sometimes as a treat ;)
overall, and so unfortunately, i really think i'm just down bad for rick sanchez.
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