#rick and morty fanfic

[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

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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.

#Rick Sanchez imagine #hot rick sanchez #rick sanchez smut #rick sanchez is so hot #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez smut fanfic #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez c137 #Rick sanchez #intox k1nk #worship k1nk #masochism #nasty smut #little weirdo #Rick Sanchez c137 x you #rick and morty season 7 #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty fandom #rick and morty fanfiction

[witchaelve]

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

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

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

Pairing: Rick Sanchez x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

He’s Like Me

This is an autistic Morty oneshot I’ve been sitting on for a while because I didn’t know where to go with it. I’m still not too happy with the ending but I think this is the best I’m gonna get it lol.

Summary: Morty is keeping a secret from Rick and Rick wants to know what it is. Hurt/comfort. ~3k words

Warnings for mentions of ableism (including internalised ableism.

Rick suddenly snaps back into reality after being absorbed in his latest project to find that his bladder is full and his stomach is rumbling. A glance at the clock tells him it’s been at least four hours of uninterrupted work. It’s not unusual for Rick to get so into something that he can spend hours at a time on it without a break, and four hours is fairly mild for him. Still, now that he’s aware of his body’s needs, he can no longer ignore them.

Standing up from his desk, he stretches his back and arms, hearing the former crack in a way that’s half-satisfying, half-concerning. The joys of ageing, he thinks wryly. He lets out a groan and makes his way to the bathroom.

Once his most pressing need has been satisfied, he directs his attention towards food and drink. He makes his way down the stairs, the usual family hubbub sounding from the kitchen. As he approaches, he can begin to make out details that indicate that it, in fact, isn’t the usual family hubbub. The raised voices, while not uncommon in the Smith household, are laced with strong emotions that betray a deeper conflict at hand. Rick pauses outside the kitchen, trying to decide whether it’s worth getting involved or if it would be easier to simply travel off-planet for some dinner instead.

“Mom, p-please don’t tell Rick!” he hears Morty cry out, a note of fear in his voice. Rick frowns, wondering what secret Morty wants to keep from him and why.

“Now, sweetie, come on, I think it would be good for him to know. It’s not anything definite yet, anyway, and if he knows, maybe he can help you.” Beth speaks as if trying not to frighten a wild animal, a tone Rick remembers using himself when she was little.

“No! Y-you don’t get it, Mom! It’s alright for you, you’re not the one being told there’s something wrong with you! You’re smart, like him! Rick already thinks I’m dumb, what is he going to think if he hears about this?” 

OK, now Rick’s really starting to get worried. He takes a moment to set his face into a mask of disinterest before entering the kitchen.

“What am I going to think if I hear about what?” he asks, trying to keep his tone casual and unbothered.

“N-nothing!” Morty blurts out, too quickly to appear innocent even if Rick hadn’t overheard the conversation.

Beth takes a deep breath. “Dad, Morty’s got a new teacher, and she thinks-”

“No! I told you not to tell him! Why do you never listen to me?” Morty shouts, tears running down his cheeks, and storms out of the room. The family hears his footsteps stomping up the stairs and the door to his room slam.

“Geez, wh-what’s with him?” Rick asks, quirking a thumb in the direction of the door, disguising his concern with an air of annoyed detachment. Beth opens her mouth to respond, but Jerry jumps in.

“Morty’s just a little upset about something his new teacher said in our meeting with her. I’m sure he’ll come down when he’s feeling better.” 

Something in his tone is unusually protective and harsh, directed at both Beth and Rick, his eyes flicking between them both. While Rick usually isn’t fond of Jerry’s behaviour, he feels a grudging respect for the man’s ability to actually grow a spine and stick up for Morty for once.

“Jerry, don’t you think we should tell him?” Beth stage whispers to Jerry.

“Beth, don’t you think we should respect Morty’s privacy?”

Rick tunes out the conversation, not interested in their usual bickering, and instead makes for the fridge. He roots around inside, grabbing a drink, then reaches for the cupboard door. Beth breaks the argument to turn to him. 

“Oh, Dad, dinner’s almost ready. Don’t spoil your appetite.” her tone changes seamlessly from angry to bright as she shifts her attention from Jerry to Rick. Rick drops his hand from the pack of wafers he was reaching for and sits down at the table, sprawling out in his chair as he waits.

“Morty, Summer, dinner!” Beth shouts to the kids and begins plating food. One bedroom door swings open and Summer comes down to join them, scrolling idly on her phone. 

Beth turns around to see only one of her children present and sighs. “Summer, get Morty.”

“Morty!” Summer shouts, not looking up from her phone. Rick has to give it to her, the volume is deafening. There’s no way Morty could have missed it.

“Ugh, that’s not what I meant.” Beth pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. “You know what, fuck it, if he doesn’t want to eat, that’s his problem.”

Four-fifths of the Smith family eat in relative silence, Rick taking advantage of the quiet to try to figure out what’s going on. Morty still hasn’t appeared by the time they’ve finished.

“Do you think I should go check on him? Take some dinner up to his room?” Jerry suggests.

“What? Jerry, no, it’s just a tantrum. He’s at that age. If he’s old enough to be a moody teenager, he’s old enough to heat up his own food when he misses dinner.” Beth replies dismissively.

“I’ll go.” Rick offers, trying to sound bored. Beth seems surprised, but doesn’t question her father. Rick takes the untouched plate of food and heads upstairs to Morty’s room. 

“Morty?” he calls, knocking on the door. No response. 

“Morty?” he calls again, slightly louder, continuing to drum his knuckles. Still getting no response, he barges his way in.

The room is dark except for the light Rick is letting in from the hallway. Morty is curled up on his bed, facing the wall and clutching a pillow to his chest.

“Morty?” he allows his voice to soften slightly.

“Go away, Rick.” Morty’s voice, already quiet and strained, is muffled from speaking into the pillow.

Rick sits gently on the edge of Morty’s bed.

“Look, wh-whatever this is, I’m gonna find out eventually, so you might as well just tell me now and get it over with.”

Morty turns to face Rick, seeming surprised. His eyes are red and swollen, and Rick feels a pang of hurt at the idea that Morty is this upset at the idea of Rick finding out… whatever it is he’s hiding.

“M-Mom and Dad didn’t tell you?” he asks hopefully.

“Nope. I just came here to give you this since, y’know, you didn’t bother to come down for dinner.” he keeps his gruff facade in place as he holds out the plate of food.

Morty sits up and takes the plate from him, setting it on his lap but making no move to eat it. He hesitates in the way Rick has come to know means he’s building himself up to ask something. Rick reels in an impatient urge to demand that Morty just spit it out.

“R-Rick?” Morty stammers. “You, um, w-would it be OK if… there was something wrong with me?”

Rick snorts to hide the concern he’s feeling. “Buddy, there’s already plenty of stuff wrong with you. Wh-wh-what’s one more thing?”

Morty winces at this comment, and Rick knows he’s fucked it up. “Yeah, but what if it was something… something actually wrong with me? Like, medically.”

OK, now Rick’s really confused. What is medically wrong with Morty that could be picked up by a school teacher?

“Morty, I can take you to any number of super advanced alien hospitals. Hell, I could probably fix it myself, if you just tell me what it is.”

Morty withdraws into himself even more. “I, um, I don’t think it’s something that can be fixed.”

“For cry-for God’s sake, Morty, what is it?” Rick demands. Morty refuses to answer, refuses to even look at him. Rick waits for as long as his patience can take, but Morty doesn’t yield. Feeling frustrated and defeated, Rick gets up and leaves to find an answer elsewhere.

He hears the rest of the family in the kitchen, and decides to ask them, when he’s distracted by an envelope on the couch with the distinct look of a letter from school. He reaches inside and pulls out Morty’s report card, scanning past the grades, which don’t interest him at the best of times, let alone now. He’s about to give up when he notices another sheet of paper inside the envelope. Unfolding it, he reads,

‘We recommend Morty for ASD assessment. If you wish to proceed or learn more, please contact-’ 

Rick stops reading. ASD? Autism? That’s it? The kid was acting like he had terminal cancer or something. Besides, Rick could’ve told Morty he was autistic within minutes of meeting him.

However, his indignation fades as stronger emotions take its place. He remembers the way he was treated as a child, the way adults talked about him like he couldn’t hear them, like there was something wrong with him. Like he was evil, or stupid, or something to be pitied. He remembers the way other children reacted to him, able to tell that he was different even at their young age. He remembers conversations between his parents late at night when they thought he was asleep, not quite hushed enough to avoid him overhearing. 

Rick swallows hard and pushes the memories away. Instead, a sinking feeling sets in as he realises that not only is Morty now experiencing these exact same thoughts and emotions, but that Morty thinks Rick will treat him like this. The feeling is some sort of sickening mix of shame and anger that curdles uncomfortably in his stomach. 

Rick turns to go back upstairs and speak to Morty, only to be met with Jerry.

“Did you read it?” Jerry asks.

“N-not now, Jerry.” Rick tries to brush past him, but Jerry catches his wrist to stop him. 

“Rick, wait.” 

Rick yanks his arm out of Jerry’s grasp, fighting the urge to rub away the residual feeling of touch. 

“You know I don’t like you taking Morty out on these adventures. If I had my way, you wouldn’t see him at all. But whatever you do, don’t you dare start treating him differently because of this, got it?” 

Jerry’s tone is surprisingly defensive in a way Rick never expected from the man. Sure, his voice is shaky and he’s clearly on edge, but he’s actually standing up for Morty. Still, Rick resents the implication that he’s the same as the people who made his own childhood hell.

“Jesus, Jerry, wh-wh-what do you think I am, some sort of monster? Why do you think I don’t like Morty going to that school in the first place? Why do you think I dropped out? It’s not a place for smart people, Jerry!” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Rick knows he’s given too much away. Just the reminder of his own childhood has regressed him into a weak little kid who can’t hide his feelings. Thankfully, Jerry’s too shocked to respond, so Rick takes the opportunity to slip past him and make his way up to Morty’s room.

He doesn’t bother to knock this time, barging right in. Morty is lying on his front with his face buried in his pillow, his body shaking, the plate of food untouched on his desk. Rick sits on the bed again and rests a hand gently between Morty’s shoulders, feeling the boy trembling.

“Morty, it’s OK. I know.” he forces the words out, his voice toneless. Morty turns and lifts his head, looking at Rick through fearful, teary eyes. Rick takes a breath before continuing.

“It’s OK, Morty. M-m-me too.”

“You’re…?”

“Autistic, yeah.”

Morty sits up and throws himself at Rick with such speed and force it takes Rick a second to understand what’s happening. Morty clings to Rick, sobbing into his chest. Rick hesitates before wrapping his arms around the boy, one hand gently stroking his shoulder.

“Sh, Morty, it’s OK.”

Rick remembers his own past and squeezes Morty tighter. When Beth was born, he’d worried about her experiencing what he’d had to, sworn that he would shield her from judgement if she had been like him, but… well, she’d never made it that far. Now, with his grandson shaking in his arms, he feels those protective feelings bubble up all over again.

Gradually, he hears and feels Morty start to calm down and eventually, Morty pulls back, wiping his eyes.

“So is it… OK? That I might be autistic?”

“Kiddo, there’s no ‘might’ about it.” Rick feels Morty tense and quickly scrambles to make him feel better. “I-i-it’s fine, Morty! It’s not something bad. It’s just another variable of humanity, like… like the shape of your nose. You got my nose, dontcha?” 

Morty nods, but doesn’t look convinced. “But… I’m not smart like you.”

“Morty, nobody is smart like me, I’m a genius. Everyone else is dumb to me, even all these other so-called ‘smart people’.”

“So… you’re not smart because of autism? I thought autism made you either like a super-genius or dumb.”

“What? No, Morty, you’ve been watching too much bad TV. A-anyway, you’re focusing on the wrong thing here. Autism is just… your brain works differently to other people. Sometimes it makes you smart, sometimes it doesn’t.” 

Morty is quiet for a second, mulling this over. “My teacher said that’s why I’m struggling in school. You never struggled in school.”

Rick feels a reflexive burst of anger at that assumption, but tries to fight it back. 

“Morty, I struggled in school so much I dropped out. I struggled so much I ran away from home.” 

Again, the truth spills out more than he wants it to, the emotion eroding his filter. Morty looks at him in shock.

“What?”

“N-n-not that I’m saying you should do that, Morty. Y-y-you need to stay here so you can go on adventures with me.”

“What? No, Rick, that’s not what I mean. I-I don’t get it. You’re a genius, how did you struggle?”

Rick shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. 

“I didn’t like the way they treated me, like I was an annoyance, or a pity project, or a problem. They didn’t get me, I didn’t get them. They wanted me to do things the way they wanted, when they wanted. I didn’t like that. If they thought I was too smart to be struggling, they didn’t believe me, thought I was just being difficult. If they just saw me as a problem, they didn’t believe I was smart enough to do things myself or make my own decisions. I-I had to constantly act, just so they’d believe I was competent. It’s tiring, pretending to be someone you’re not all day, everyday, just to be treated like anyone else. I got tired of it, left so I could be with people who didn’t care what I did.”

Somewhere in his story, Rick realises his hands have curled into balls and his leg is bouncing. He pulls out his flask and swigs from it, partially for the enticing numbness promised by the alcohol, but mostly to give himself time to rein in his emotions before continuing.

“Out there in space, Morty, they don’t care. They don’t even know what a human is, let alone how humans should act. I-i-if an alien thinks you’re weird because you breathe oxygen and have hair, they don’t give a shit if you flap your hands o-or don’t know when it’s your turn to speak o-o-or whatever.”

“So I can only be normal to people who already think my species is weird enough that they have no idea what I’m supposed to behave like?” Morty responds despondently.

“No, Morty, I’m saying it doesn’t matter. You can do whatever you want, be whoever you want.”  

Morty doesn’t respond to that, and Rick remains silent. Eventually, Morty speaks up.

“I-I always knew I was different, y’know? I could never make friends or-or understand things as easy as other kids could. But hearing my teacher talk about me like there was something wrong with me… it made it real.”

Morty’s words choke themselves into silence as he ends the sentence. Rick can’t reply, emotions hijacking his brain. He pulls Morty back into a hug instead. After a moment, Morty continues, his voice quiet and muffled against Rick’s shoulder.

“A-and I know I’m not smart like you, or Mom, or Summer, and I thought that if you knew there was something wrong with me… you might not take me on adventures anymore. Or you might get a new Morty instead. One that’s not… broken.”

“Hey, stop that.” Rick scolds Morty, shaking him gently. “You’re not broken, OK? Neither of us are.” 

“Y-you mean it, Rick?”

“Course I do, buddy.”

Morty nestles into him even closer and Rick feels his grip tighten without meaning to.

“Thank you.” he hears Morty mumble, so quietly he almost can’t hear it.

After a while, Morty loosens his grip and Rick responds in kind. Morty pulls back to wipe at his eyes before his stomach growls loudly.

“Oh. I guess I should eat, huh?” he chuckles sheepishly.

Both of their gazes turn simultaneously to the plate of food on Morty’s desk. Rick has to admit, it wasn’t the best even when it was fresh, but after sitting out for a while it looks outright unappetising.

“You wanna go to that place we found on Epsilon 12?” he finds himself offering.

“Really?” Morty asks, finally seeming to perk up.

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Rick rests a hand on Morty’s shoulder as he shoots a portal and guides his grandson through it. It might be too late to shield Morty from discrimination completely, but he resolves to try his best anyway.

#rick and morty #rnm #rick sanchez #morty smith #autistic rick #autistic rick sanchez #autistic morty #autistic morty smith #rick and morty fanfic #rnm fanfic #my writing #my fic #also the bulk of this was written pre 6x09 #including the ‘dont spoil your appetite’ line from beth #so after that episode i did question whether to leave it in but i thought it would be funny #also we all know that rick can’t say no to his girls

[rickfucker]

10 Ways to Say I Love You (young!Rick Sanchez/Reader) - Pt. 1

I have hit my follower goal!!! thank you all so much for reading my nonsense and giving me a follow. it’s literally always been a goal of mine to be one of those popular fanfic writers and idc if that’s silly.

Link to the inspiration for this ficlet. 

AO3 Link

young!Rick Sanchez/f!Reader 3441 Words - SFW CW for Explicit Language, Canon Compliant Violence, & Minor Character Death

One

Though the windows are only tinted by the dark blue of the outside, the fluorescent lights of the meeting room are plenty to wake you up. Your head is only being held up by your hands, which are only being held up by the heaviness of your head. Simple physics that plagues your existence.

Other members of your fleet chat away with one another, the gross smell of eggs filling your nostrils. It makes you internally gag; not enough energy to even fully commit to that. Once you have to get up, you’ll make your tiny Styrofoam cup of tea with the scorching hot water sitting readily in front of you. For now, you just welcome its warmth on your hands through the plastic.

Leave it to Rick Sanchez to convince you that going out to that stupid Interplanetary Club the night before a mandatory morning meeting was a good idea. The man was too charming for his own good. Definitely for yours.

Your stomach churns as you take meditative inhales through your nose and exhales through your mouth. If it really turns out to be worth it, you aren't going to decide until after this feeling subsides. 

You lift your head as you sense someone's presence at your table. Speak of the devil.

His signature smirk adorns his face as he takes a seat diagonal to you. He looks fine. Great, even. You glare at him.

It only makes him laugh, a sound that tickles your ears but bangs against your skull. You hide your head in your crossed arms.

“Oh, come on. I didn’t get you that drunk, did I?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You sigh deeply, your voice groggy as you start to speak. “You should know by now that my tolerance is shit compared to yours.” You shoot him another glare. “And clearly my refractory time, as well.”

“Ooh, talk dirty to me, baby,” he flirts, but you’re too tired to be bothered by it. 

The night was mostly a blur of drugs and dancing and colorful drinks handed to you - which you drank without question. You trusted Rick in a sense. More like you trusted Birdperson, and they trusted Rick.

He was fighting the same cause you were. He was a bit brash, but it was a welcome change from the rest of the people on your team. You had gotten sick of the polite, forced niceties that came with sharing a living space with a hundred other aliens. Rick is a wild card, named a rogue. His motivations are unclear. But if there is one thing you really know about Rick, it’s that he knows how to party.

A lot of the things he came into the club with were incredibly rare and hard to find. Even if Rick didn’t have the greatest attendance record when it came to anything that didn’t include firing guns, you can’t imagine he has that much time on his hands to go hunting down illicit substances. 

But he’s always there to take someone down when he’s needed.

“I’m surprised to even see you here. You usually skip these, don’t you?” You prop up on your elbow, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light. You take note of the two to-go cups in front of him. Earthly looking.

“Noticing when I’m gone, hm?” He lays it on thick, one lengthy hand wrapped around one of the cups.

You point at the free cup with a questioning look, curiosity officially piqued. He gives mock surprise.

“Oh, this? Ye-yeah, I may have made a pit-stop while I was deigning to show up.” He smiles, pushing it your way. “Two sugars, right?”

Your mouth falls open as the smell finally wafts your way; coffee. Your hands immediately wrap around its warmth, mouth falling open in awe as you look at him with wide eyes. 

“Shut up!” you whisper. “Where the hell did you get this?” Another rare commodity around here. You had switched over to caffeinated green tea, but it just wasn’t the same. Especially during a hangover.

“I can’t divulge my sources.”

You smile at him while you take a sip. You relish in its heat and bitter aftertaste. “I’ll take it.”

You don’t think to ask how he knew your order.

--

Two

When you wake, your room is still covered in darkness. Your hand flies to the digital clock on your nightstand. 2:35AM

You flop back onto your bed with a sigh. Most nights were like this; you either struggled falling asleep or staying asleep - at your worst, both, spending your night counting the ceiling tiles. 

You can hear the sound of hushed voices outside of your room and into the shared hallway of your fleet members. You didn’t function on a typical schedule most times. Most other solar systems didn’t even subscribe to time in the way of weeks, months, and years. The present is only the present. There’s a yesterday and a tomorrow, but time doesn’t really exist beyond our perception of it.

You think you prefer the daily trials of life with that mindset in clutch.

You eye your door longingly, silently wishing you had just made plans for tonight instead of turning in your bed for hours on end. You need to catch up on sleep, yeah. But trying your best to sleep whenever you can clearly isn't working for you.

There’s laughter and footsteps. Shushes followed by more demure giggling. The sound slowly fades out of your peripheral hearing, your eyes closing in defeat.

They snap open to the quiet, quick succession of knocks on your door. You furrow your brow as you flip the blankets off, making your way to the entrance while pulling your robe tight around your waist.

Your hand print scans beside the door with a blue light and a beep, the aluminum sliding open to reveal a somewhat disheveled Rick, dressed casually and leaning on the door frame.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the hallway lights. “Rick?” A glance to your right reveals the rest of the group has gone, leaving the two of you alone. “It’s two in the morning.” You cross your arms in indignance, trying your hardest to look annoyed.

He speaks in a whispered frenzy. “Yeaaah, yeah. Listen, listen. So, BP and I went to the cantina after hours to steal some of the good cereal ‘cause if I have to eat bran one more fucking time I’m gonna- gonna blow up this whole f-fucking station - and there were these other crew members trying to break into the main office to forge some shit. Get this: This chicks best friend slept with her boyfriend - like who gives a fuck, right? But they were gonna fake a mandatory transfer for this guy to get ‘em out of our station, so I helped, and now we’re gonna go stink bomb this chicks room while she’s out in exchange for whole milk for the fucking. Cereal! Do you want to come?”

You blink at him. 

You could describe Rick as many things. Intimidating. Charismatic. Mysterious. 

Upon getting to know him better: childish.

It was never unwelcome and was almost always charming. You could watch him 180 in a team meeting - from planning an assassination attempt to whispering flustering mnemonic devices in your ear for each of your crew members in the room.

You glance back at your messy bed, a sad reminder of what you know you’re missing. But yeah. You do want to go.

A sound passes your lips, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, shedding your robe and going for one of your sweatshirts instead. He whispers a ‘yesssss’ with a punch of his fist in the air. Your smile grows.

“Only if I can have the kind with the marshmallows.” you add.

He grins. “A girl after my own heart.”

--

Three

You barely had time to register it in the moment - an enemy’s gun pointed toward one of your own. Your finger twitching on the trigger, shooting the alien dead like second nature. When you angrily met the eyes of your teammate, leaving their station and ducking out from everyone's eyesight, you barely shot the offender down in time. 

Rick wasn’t paying attention.

No, his back was turned. He was alert when you spoke to him, but not toward the fight at hand. 

“Rick, what are you doing?” you yelled from across the room, your voice quiet among the lasers, pistols, and the burning of your ambush explosives.

“Don’t worry about me,” he replied, his eyes hard. He took off. You didn’t see him until long after the mission was over.

You catch him hanging low in the hallway by the cantina. Rage flares in your nostrils, and you shove him before he even knows you’re there.

He stumbles a bit to the side, shooting a crazed look at you with an accompanying ‘what the fuck?’

“What the fuck was that earlier? Abandoning a mission?”

He protectively covers where you pushed him with a hand, rolling his eyes but softening. “How about you worry about yourself, sweetheart.”

You scoff. “That fucking mosquito almost shot you, idiot.”

His lips turn down. An annoyed scowl you’re so used to seeing. “Right, my bad. Forgot to pick up a thank-you card.”

He presses the right buttons, your fingers fisting and stretching out anxiously by your side. The flicker of the fluorescent lights makes you nauseous. “Don’t be a dick,” you say dumbly.

He crosses his arms. “Be- because ambushing me and starting a fight was so fuckin’ polite of you.”

You sigh, ignoring him. Your eyes glance up and down the hallway to make sure no one can hear you, though you’re not sure why. “What were you doing?” you whisper, your true curiosity spilling.

His arms fall away, turning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deadpans.

Your anger turns way into disappointment, and suddenly he’s walking away from you. “Rick-”

“Hey.” His voice has a bite, annoyance or warning, you don’t know. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

It shuts you up, stops you dead in your tracks. You stand there and watch him walk away, wanting to blow your head off for a reason you can’t explain. Why did he piss you off so much? Why did you act so stupid? If you were trying to express concern for him, which you told yourself you were, you did a shit job at showing it.

You awkwardly nod at the others hanging around down the hall as you pass them on your way back to the cantina.

--

Four

Your tray of boring cafeteria food sits untouched and cold to your left. You don’t have much of an appetite these days.

Your fingers are occupied with spinning the tiny screws that hold the fluid component sturdy to its top. You’ve never thought you had overly manly hands until this moment. Your fingers are stubby and huge and tinted red from being stabbed by the screws flipping out of their sockets from the pressure. 

You aren’t particularly gifted with in-field tech, but you’re trying to improve. Which is why you repeatedly refused the help of your friends when you complained to them about the gun malfunctioning. You should learn these things in case of an emergency. You should be self-sustaining.

The screw slips back out of the socket and you curse as it scratches your cuticle, slamming your fist on the table - maybe a little too hard. You reel in your frustration in hopes nobody heard it and is looking at you like you’re crazy from past your peripherals.

You eye your abandoned tray with exhaustion, reaching for your water. Your hands burn as they scrape against the plastic cap. 

He appears then, just to the left of you, body leaning cooly against the table. The look in his eyes spells trouble to you, his brow raised in questioning. You take a long sip of your water while Rick’s eyes meet yours, glance down to the pile of hardware in front of you, and look up at you again. 

You set the cup down, willing yourself to keep his eye contact though your body tells you to break it. “What?” You finally ask.

He nods toward the pile. “Looked like you were having some trouble.”

His tone isn’t exactly mocking, but given the last conversation you’d had with each other, there was no telling if he only came over here to get back at you for poking the bear, or if he was actually trying to be helpful. He’s too nonchalant; you can never quite get a proper read on him.

“No trouble,” you say in as neutral a tone as you can, “I’m figuring it out.” That sounded more sure in your head.

“I could take a look at it,” he offers, but your stubbornness wins out.

“I’ve got it handled, Sanchez.” Well, that was a little too aggressive.

The longer he stares at you, the more you shrink under his gaze. He looks away for a moment, working his jaw in what you can tell is annoyance, before he’s moving into your personal space. He leans onto both his elbows propped on the tabletop, just close enough that you instinctually scoot back. He looks up at you, now. 

Suddenly, your mind goes blank.

“Come on. Let me fix it.” 

The close proximity leaves you speechless. Your heart picks up speed. Your stomach churns.

It’s just sour enough that you immediately recognize the feeling.

You simply nod, eyes dancing off his face, scared that your voice will fail you if you speak.

He only flashes you a small grin, one that makes you go even stupider, before stealing your equipment in an armful and sitting next to you. He gets to work right away. When he undoes the handiwork you had put in, you don’t even question it. You knew Rick was a scientist; an engineer. He was responsible for a lot of the equipment the fleet used - explosives, armor enhancements, ammo. And you definitely weren’t going to be touching that gun again until it was fixed lest God smite you.

You sit with silence between you, your eyes not leaving his hands at work for even a moment until he’s finished. Your gun, somehow, works better than it had when you first received it years ago.

--

Five

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, counting each beat of your heart as you try to slow your breathing. You calculate it’s racing somewhere past 150, and if you’re going to get out of this alive, you need to not have a panic attack. 

Isn’t your body supposed to function on auto-pilot in times of distress? You’ve been in plenty of fights. Your hands, your arms, your chest; your body branded the kind of scars you only get from years in the force. On the front lines, at that. You’ve been shot, burned, stabbed, everything short of torture.

So why is now the time that your body decides it can’t move?

The mission was supposed to be routine. You were picking up a supply drop with one other team member, Doss. You were often paired together because of your particularly complimenting skill sets and fighting styles. You didn’t mind marching into battle with melee weapons, swinging batons and punching your way through any situation you encountered.

Doss, though? He was a trained recon sniper. He stayed back to watch your six. You would scout out locations together, catch enemies when they weren’t looking, steal supplies, and get the fuck out without so much as a scratch on your knuckles.

Not today.

Food rations were getting low, so that was your number one priority. Medical supplies came next; as much as you can carry on your back. You had walkie’d back to your teammate from the inside after filling your packs to no response. You knew what protocol told you to do from here; hold your position and wait for backup. But you were an idiot who didn’t follow protocol.

You worried on your lips when you tried to make contact again. Static. Nothing.

Doss was on the outskirts of the building, half dilapidated and abandoned. You hadn’t been to this location before, but you were assured of its neutrality and safety. 

It was uncertain if it was a planned ambush. If you were in some group's territory and didn’t know it. It certainly wasn’t the Federation. They had particular styles that gave them away.

You made your way through the halls back to the front entrance, moving slowly. You abandoned one pack, too much to carry on you while trying to be inconspicuous. You heard the voices, saw shadows as you ducked behind a wall. How many were there? Six, seven, maybe… There could be more outside, out of range for you to hear. 

Still no sign of Doss. 

You can feel the tears pricking at your eyes, burning in a humiliation you can’t explain. You should have stuck together. You didn’t want to admit it. 

They’re filing in slowly, now, and you can hear the voices getting closer to you as you skirt down the hall and quietly shut a door behind you, a shaking hand dialing on your walkie.

“Supply team seven to base, please respond.” You keep your voice low, though it shakes with the sheer effort it’s taking you to not fucking cry.

No response. 

There was no way you could fight the lot of them. You didn’t come prepared with a firing weapon. Your power fist wouldn’t help you if you got shot.

You try again with no response. Your walkie was still working properly, no signs of malfunction. Who the fuck is manning the radio servers?

You squeeze your eyes as they burn, wiping your cheeks as you try to come to your current reality. You do the first thing you can think of. What were the chances he even kept his walkie on him? 

You dial Rick’s number and extension.

You take a shaking breath, pressing down to talk. “Rick, I swear to fucking God, please have your walkie on you right now.”

The static crackles for a moment, and you silently count your blessings before the rough melody of his voice breaks through the tiny speaker. 

“What is it?”

You laugh quietly, hysterically, reminding yourself to add Rick’s existence to your list of blessings. “There was some kind of ambush. Or we aren’t where we’re supposed to be. I don’t fucking know.” Your voice wobbles. “Doss is-” a hiccup, “he isn’t responding, Rick, I think he… There’s so many of them. I don’t- I don’t have anything, I-” Word vomit that you can’t stop, tears now freely flowing down your face. 

His voice stops you. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

You’re hyperventilating just a little, and the first wave of relief washes over you. You don’t bother responding. 

You stay vigilant, furiously wiping your tears away as you wait for him, for some signal that you’re going to make it out of this alive. Raiders and marauders were all over the place these days; you weren’t the only side getting antsy against the Federation. As it turns out, the void of space doesn’t consider the enemy of it's enemy to be it's friend. Unknowns are always enemies.

When Rick shows up, it’s without grandeur. He grabs you to leave out the front door, and your eyes gloss over the wasted aliens that he took out before he found you cornered away. He took them all out himself, it looks like. You don’t know how. A single human of all things taking out a whole swarm of raiders? You would be criticizing his work ethic in any other circumstance, but only now does your body fall into autopilot. Blood and guts all over the floor, now on your shoes as you scrape them against the hard concrete outside. 

You see him, Doss, or at least, what’s left of him. Face down, by the looks of it, brains and blood splattered against the ground in a sight that would normally make you queasy, but you don’t feel anything.

They sniped the sniper. It probably happened so fast that it was relatively painless. He didn’t suffer. You say it to yourself over and over again. He didn’t suffer. He didn’t suffer.

You leave the planet relatively unscathed, though Rick bears the blood splatter of your enemies, already fading into the worn leather of his duster.

He says nothing to you, but you feel his eyes on you the whole way home.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez fanfic #young!rick sanchez #young!rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty fanfic #mesa writes

[misslisamiray]

Time for this weeks's excerpt from my Rick and Morty fanfic, Down With the Rickness. Before we get started, I just have a couple of quick things to mention.

Current page count (for those of you who are new here, my old-school self has to handwrite my fics first): 84! I'll post another of those "me holding up the pages" pics when it hits 90. 😊

This is going to be the last of these little excerpts, but don't be sad: That's only because next week I plan to start posting actual chapters instead!

I mentioned in a previous update that Rick's ideas for dealing with his cold are questionable at best (in other words, dangerous and absolutely terrible). So, for the last excerpt before I start posting the fic for real, please enjoy an example of that. Morty is very much not enjoying any of it. 😅

Morty ran into the garage, and was immediately taken aback by the sight in front of him. Rick was dressed in his normal clothes again, but his labcoat was crooked and sliding down his left shoulder. He had a sock and shoe on his left foot, but a slipper on his right. His belt was unbuckled, and Morty was fairly sure his shirt was on backwards. He was trying to keep his blankets - there were now three of them - wrapped around himself while he set up another experiment, and had to keep pausing to adjust them.

The experiment in question? Well, it wasn't clear exactly what Rick was trying to accomplish, but he'd gathered the blood sample he took earlier, a couple of petri dishes, and some used tissues, and was arranging all of them on the garage floor... in front of a large ray gun on a pedestal.

"What the hell do you think you're doing now, Rick?! Whatever it is, stop!" Morty yelled, startling Rick and causing him to stumble forward and bump into the ray gun. This led to it flipping so it was facing the roof, which it immediately shot a hole through.

"Ow! Dammit, Morty! Look what you made me do!" Rick complained, rubbing his forehead where he'd hit the ray gun.

"Uh-huh. Weird way to thank me for that hole ending up in the roof and not your head." Morty said wearily.

"Okay, so this wasn't on the right setting for what I'm *Cough!* trying to do just now. But I would've figured that out on my own without your so-called help." Rick grumbled, turning a dial on the ray gun and repositioning it so it was once again aimed at the assortment of things on the floor.

"And what exactly are you trying to do?"

"Isn't it obvious? I hate to admit it, Morty, but you were right about the idea I had before being terrible. *Sniff!* Shrinking you down to microscopic size to talk to the virus? I don't, don't know what I was thinking with that." Rick admitted as he added the blood sample to one of the petri dishes. The pile of blankets slid down a little, and he started shivering again.

Noticing that, Morty helped adjust them around Rick's shoulders, saying, "Glad you realized that, but you still didn't answer my question."

"Huh? Oh, *Cough!* right. As I was saying, making you or a clone or a robot germ-sized is not the right way to handle this situation at all. In fact, the way to deal with it is the exact opposite. What I need to do for this negotiation thing to work is make the germs human-sized." Rick explained matter-of-factly.

"Rick, no! Don't you see how that's even worse than your original plan?!" Morty asked, rightfully horrified.

#fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #fanfic #rick and morty fanfic #sickfic #rick sanchez #morty smith #my writing #my fanfic #and yes i officially like the title now #down with the rickness #actual chapters start next week! #just had to post one more preview with our favorite dysfunctional duo first #rick and morty

[something-ricked-this-way-comesx]

Rick Sanchez x Self - Insert OC Fan-Fiction

Hey guys٫

I have 10 chapters released on wattpad of my self-insert OC x Rick Sanchez fan fiction - if you liked my Dick Prime excerpt chapter please go give it a read 💜

Heres a little summary for you;

Aurora Augustine is an interdimensional traveler from X-258 - a dimension beyond the central finite curve where she is the smartest woman in the universe. She also happens to be the Rick Sanchez' best friend - whom she hasn't seen in 6 years. Long story short, when a romance goes bad and Rick saves her from the former, she enters back into his life almost as if she never left. Rick proposes that in order for Aurora to stay with the Smiths - she has to help him as he re-starts up his plan to eliminate Rick Prime to finally get justice for his dead wife and daughter. Aurora agrees and Rick realizes that her presence in his life starts to bring up feelings that he long thought were dead.

As always any feedback is encouraged and MUCH appreciated.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez fuckers #rick sanchez x oc #rick sanchez smut #fear no mort #a rickle in time #rick sanchez x self insert #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez imagine #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez fanfiction #rick and morty smut #rick and morty #rick and morty fandom #rick and morty fanfic #flesh curtains rick #memory rick #rick c137 #rick sanchez c137 #c137 #rick sanchez ff #rick sanchez sexy man #rick sanchez simp #young rick #rick sanchez writing #rick sanchez/female reader insert #rick smut #rick #rick prime smut #rick prime

[mort-alicious]

Just posted my first ever fanfiction! Please read, if you are interested.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen

Fandom: Rick and Morty

Characters:

Summer Smith, Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)

Additional Tags:

Episode: s01e08 Rixty Minutes, Hurt/Comfort, Morty Smith-centric, Existentialism, Mild Gore, Blood and Gore, Technically character death, but not really, Rick is barely mentioned, no beta we die like men

#rick and morty #morty smith #summer smith #fanfiction #fanfic #rick and morty fanfic

[senseichaos]

ALL REQUESTS ARE ON

What does this mean? This means you can request anything! You can request a oneshot (I often write up to 6000 words with a request oneshot) and imagine/drabble requests (which are explained on my pinned post)! Make sure to have a gander at my rules if you are requesting, otherwise your request will be completely ignored. And please do not expect me to do your request, even if you do follow the rules! I will not do every request under the sun and often they will not be immediately written! Thank you so much.

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #south park #south park fanfiction #south park fluff #south park proship #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcannons #alastor hazbin hotel #rick and morty fanfic #requests #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal fancic

[xenubinscircus]

pls someone give me good rick and morty fics that arent incest its not my cup of tea, i jsut want more rick angst pls god

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick and morty fic #rick sanchez fic #fanfic #rick and morty fanfic

[vanezzky]

*Masterlist*

                  Rick Sánchez x Reader

Owned by Sánchez :

          Prólogo .   / Aesthetic 

  : ¿ Hogar dulce hogar ?

: Ponme al día.

Estás obsesionado, déjame ir.      

En el fondo de mi mente.

Con mis brazos alrededor de mi cuello.

Colocado de tí.

Reacción química provocada por la oxitocina.

Mi tipo es...

El principio del abismo.

Ella es MÍA.

Falling in reverse.

Fantasmas del pasado, presente y futuro.

Vuelta al principio.

Dejavú

Dispara al diablo.

Viejos enemigos.

Palabras como golpes.

Hablando claro, tengo un problema.

No debía pasar.

Apocalypse    (En proceso )

        Prólogo / Aesthetic.

One shots :

                  -Científco, playboy y ¿Peluquero? [ Rick x Kat]

The Joker x Reader 

Sanity Mask 

  Prólogo  / Aesthetic

 La curiosidad mató...

 Detenida pero no presa.

Bienvenida a Arkham.

Pacto con el diablo.

Recordatorio.

La ruleta rusa, sin pistola 

#Masterlist #rick & morty #rick and morty fanfic #rick sanchez #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x oc #rick and morty #joker #joker btas #btas #batman the animated series #batman #dc #dccomics #joker x reader #joker x oc #joker fanfiction

[bouncybongfairy]

Halloween Night

Evil Morty x Bimbo Reader (BOTH READER AND EVIL MORTY ARE 18-YEAR-OLD SENIORS IN HIGH SCHOOL.) I'm surprised there aren't more Morty x Reader Fan Fics out there. Rick and Morty came out when I was 12, so Morty was one of my first crushes lol.

Summary: Morty and you have been together for about 8 months. You picked out a sexy alien costume hoping to impress Morty with how amazing you look. When you show him after weeks of waiting for it to arrive, he explains it may be a bit too scandalous before even complimenting you. This frustrates you because, as a cheerleader, the costume isn't more revealing than your uniform. You try to make him jealous at the prep rally and end up talking things out at the Halloween party you both show up at.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Part 2 is now posted!!!

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

When you got home from school, you were thrilled that your Halloween costume had finally come in the mail. Tomorrow was the 31st so you were cutting it close, not to mention you’ve been excited to show Morty. You two have been dating for 8 months and even though it doesn’t seem like a long time, it sure did feel like it. This was your first Halloween as a couple and you were both excited to spend it together. You let your backpack plop down on the carpet and sit on your bed. Using your eyebrow razor you rip open the green costume. It was a leather skirt, a matching tube top, silver gloves, and thigh highs. Once you put it on you fell in love with it, and you felt really confident. You FaceTimed Morty, setting your phone on your vanity and waiting for him to pick up. When he answered he was lying in his bed. You could tell his room was dark because of the lighting. You backed away from the phone so he could see the entire costume. The reason you chose an alien costume was for Morty, you figured he would be excited and flattered that you were thinking of him. Not to mention practically everyone in the school knew that Morty was always around aliens and intergalactic shenanigans. 

“Well?” you asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“It’s really hot, are you wearing that to Tricia’s party?” he asked, sounding a little less than entertained. 

“Um.. yeah? Is there something wrong?” you asked, confused as to why his energy was so negative. 

“I don’t know, don’t you think it’s kinda revealing,” he asked and your face dropped. 

“I don’t think it’s that much more revealing than my cheer uniform, and I wear that all the time,” you said, sitting on the office chair next to your desk. 

“Don’t play dumb though y-you know that costume shows quite a bit off,” he said. 

“What the fuck, I’m not playing dumb. Obviously, I know it’s a hot outfit. I'm just saying that it’s not worse than my cheerleading uniform and I wear that to school and football games. So why would this bother you?” you asked. 

“Fine, whatever if you want to go out with your tits and ass out that’s fine, I’ll just have to bring a gun.” he sighed. 

“Oh no don’t even worry about that, you can just stay home and play with the gun in your pants. I think imma just be with my girls tomorrow night. It’s so fucking crazy that it not only took me a week to pick this out for you but also waited weeks to show you how it looked. Do you realize you didn’t give me a single compliment since I’ve shown you? I respect your opinions but why do you have to be such a douche about it like honestly,” you said hanging up the call. You were feeling pretty beside yourself, you were so excited to spend Halloween together and it was like that was flushed down the toilet. You change out of your costume and lay out everything you need for tomorrow’s Halloween prep rally. After you finish up some homework, you head to bed even though you are feeling quite restless.  

The next morning you woke up feeling more optimistic about today. Morty sent you a good morning text which made you angry. You were expecting an apology not him trying to sweep shit under the rug. You woke up early in order to have time to shower and shave, not to mention you’d have to blow dry your hair after. The hot water was making you more sleepy than you felt while you were in bed. You scrubbed your scalp with shampoo, enjoying the hot water as you rinsed the suds out. You shaved your legs and exfoliated your body, you hopped out of the shower once the hot steam was making you feel faint. You sat at your vanity and began blow drying your hair. When you looked up, you saw all the polaroids of you and Morty taped to the sides of your vanity. It wasn’t like you guys were broken up or anything, clearly he wasn’t mad at you. It just seemed kind of hypocritical for him to judge you on showing too much skin because always said he liked that about you. You bump the ends of your long blonde hair and then start your make-up. You always wore a lot of make-up; big lashes, bright pink blush, lip gloss, ect. It didn’t matter if it looked cakey at times to you, obviously, it’s not going to look as good during 8th period as it did when you first got to school. 

After your hair and make-up was done, you put on your cheer uniform. You were going to Tricia’s house right after school to help her get things ready for her party. As you packed your costume you couldn’t ignore how upset you were about Morty today. You spotted Tricia and a couple of your friends sitting in the quad. After greeting and showering each other with compliments, you explained to them what happened with Morty last night. You showed them a picture of you in the green costume and they all reassured you that it wasn’t too sluty. 

“Did you guys break up for real this time?” Tricia asked, rubbing your shoulder. 

“No, he texted me good morning but that was it. I don’t know, I kinda feel like I overreacted. I was really looking forward to spending tonight together but I just feel like he was being disrespectful, all of a sudden he doesn’t want me to dress how I always have just because we’re together,” you said. 

“At the rally, you should really go full-out, you know like to make him jealous,” Tricia suggested. 

“Do you think he’s still coming to the party?” you asked the group. 

“Unless you specifically told him that you weren’t going, I'm sure he’ll be there,” one girl said. 

For the rest of the day, you thought about what she said. It seemed silly to be trying to make him jealous when that was what caused the argument in the first place. You mostly feel like his comments were out of line and you didn’t want to really piss him off, just toy him around a little. The day went by quickly, all the teachers figured that most students wouldn’t be paying attention today. You could see the anticipation building among your peers. Halloween only lands on a Friday every 7 years and everyone was buzzing about that. The student body was slowly filling the gym, getting ready for the prep rally. All the cheerleaders were in a separate room waiting to go on. Morty had texted you asking where you were going to be. You told him your usual spot and showed Tricia. 

“This is even more of a reason to go full out,” she said.

“I would go full out regardless of if I had a boyfriend or not,” you said. 

After waiting for 15 more minutes it was time for the team to perform. It was easy to pick Morty out of the crowd, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy to see him. He was smiling at you and it made you feel bad for leaving him. Your coach made a routine using Nicki Minaj’s Monster Verse. It was nice having a couch that was younger and understood the new generation of cheer better. You were feeling amazing, They made the lighting in the gym red which gave it a really cool vibe. Normally prep rallies really sucked and nobody ever really engages. Today being Halloween and Friday everyone was more willing to be involved. Chanting and volunteering for the little games and events. Morty was at the bottom of the bleachers, which made you eye level to each other. You could see that he was taking pictures of you which made you roll your eyes. The crowd and music were so loud as you were performing, that all you could focus on was him. He looked so cute and the fact that he was smiling the entire time was warming your heart. After you were done performing, the school was dismissed. Technically there was still half of the last period left but nobody went back to class. As you walked out of the gym, Morty greeted you. 

“Did you think I was showing off too much at the rally?” you asked sarcastically to make a point. 

“I thought you looked hot, look I didn’t mean to offend you for real. You’re my girlfriend of course. I don't like sharing your body with other people’s eyes. I should have told you how good you looked beforehand,” he admitted, grabbing your hand and walking by your side. 

“I appreciate you for looking at things from my point of view. Sorry for not texting you back this morning,” you said, giving him a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay I figured you were pissed,” he said laughing. 

“I have to go, a couple of girls and I are going to Tricia’s house to get ready for her party,” you said.

“Come to my house and get ready, you have all your stuff in your duffle right?” he asked.

“Yeah but I don’t know I promised her,” you sighed. 

“I’ll stop for food on the way,” he said trying to convince you; it worked. 

Morty had been driving his dad’s car around for a while. The two of them got into a huge blowout over his dad not keeping a job. Morty was doing a paid internship for a chemistry teacher at the local college. Long story short Morty had to take over the payments of the car. Morty was about to take you home after hanging out after school and his dad said no because he hadn’t taken out the trash for the past two days. Morty blew up at him, he looked his dad dead in the eye and told him he was the new man of the house. Ridiculed him for not having income and then having the audacity to take away something Morty paid for.  You had never seen Morty so mad, his face was bright red and his eyes were wild. You would never admit this but something is different about Morty for the past couple of months. Ever since his internship, he’s been on a short fuse and a God complex. You summed it up to him becoming more confident in himself and how could you be mad at that? When he took you home he drove so fast yet controlled that it scared you a bit. 

Once you went through the Burger King drive-thru you made it back to his house. You were pretty sure Beth didn’t like you because every time you came into the house she never acknowledged you. He pulled you upstairs and into his room, he always had his LED lights set to red and it always smells like stale pot/tobacco smoke. His closet door was a mirror so you laid out a towel and started recurring your hair and re-doing your make-up. After throwing his backpack into the corner of the room, he walked over to his stereo and played Pumpkins Scream In the Dead of Night at full volume. He then plopped down on his bed and started packing a bowl into his slightly dirty bong. You were picking your french fries in between teasing certain parts of your hair. Morty walked over and stood directly above you and blew a huge bong rip down on you. 

“Ugh! Boo-Boo don’t do that you know I don’t like that,” you said trying to waft some of the smoke out of your face. In response, he playfully humped the back of your head causing you to fall back a little. This made him laugh so hard that you couldn’t help but join him. 

“Are you dressing up?” you asked him. 

“No, I’m just going to sell while I’m there,” he said, referring to Tricia’s party.

“Only weed right?” you asked. 

“I promised you nothing else right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“I’m just making sure,” you said, spraying your hair with a final layer of hair spray.

When you were finally finished, you took your clothes off and changed into your costume. When you turned around, Morty was rolling a blunt that wasn’t what surprised you. It was the huge sack of weed on his bed, seriously as big as your ass. You questioned whether it was safe to be taking all that but he assured you it would be secure in the car and of course, the fact that he carried it. The two of you took some selfies in the mirror before leaving. He of course made sure to compliment how good you looked which made you roll your eyes. Once you got to the party Tricia was a little sad that you didn’t come to get ready with all the girls but was happy to see you and Morty had worked things out. Normally you don’t smoke at all but after two shots, the idea of a blunt was rather intriguing. Morty was sitting in the arm of the chair and you were leaning back, pressed against him. The entire house was encased in smoke, it was like no matter where you went you couldn’t get a breath of oxygen. Morty walk talking with one of his buddies who were laughing and fucking around. You were holding a solo cup that was filled with cherry vodka sour, it was staining your lips a bright red. The only thing you had eaten all day was the Burger King after school so the weed and alcohol were hitting you heavily. You could tell Morty noticed because he was holding on to your waist as if you were going to lose balance. You turned around so that you were facing him, his eyes were red, the same as yours. He pulled you close and asked if you were doing okay. 

“I wish we could go trick -hiccup- or treating like we used to,” you said giggling. 

“Yeah, I miss when things were simple,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“I know I’m fucked up but have you been like… okay lately? You seem darker,” you drunkenly try to explain. 

“I’m just becoming more aware of the bullshit around me. I’m fine, you’re fine; we’re fine,” he reassured you. 

“I’m sorry I blew up at you last night, I’m having a really good time with you,” you said, giving him a peck on the lips. 

“I love you,” he blurted out 

“I love you too,” you said almost as fast as he said it. This was the first time you’d ever said I love you to each other. Even though you were both a little cross-faded, it still felt so personal and special. After about another hour you head back to his house and well… ya know if ya know. 

#rick and morty #rick and morty halloween #Halloween fanfic #morty x reader #aged up morty smith #morty smith x reader #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty season 7 #evil morty x reader #morty smith #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fandom

[stuffandnosense]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Rick and Morty Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith Characters: Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Morty Smith, Summer Smith, Beth Smith (Rick and Morty), Jerry Smith, Other Ricks (Rick and Morty), Other Mortys (Rick and Morty) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Rebel Rick, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol, POV Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Emotional Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Emotional, Canon-Typical Violence, Aftermath of Violence, Aftermath of Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst, Fluff and Angst, C-142 Summer is pregnant, Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Protective Rick, Gentle Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Flashbacks, Past Character Death, Comes Back Wrong Series: Part 2 of Rick C-1031 and Morty C-142 Summary:

Rebel Rick (C-1031) has been doing pretty well for himself for a while in dimension C-142. He has a version of his family that’s learned to love him, with a Beth who wasn’t murdered as a baby and a Morty to go on adventures with. After a hard life fighting the Galactic Federation and hunting the Rick that killed his original family, it’s nice.

Until the same evil Rick from thirty years ago tracks him down, brutally murders his grandson, and destroys his family’s home and any means of helping Morty or cloning him in time to save his memories.

Desperate to get his Morty back somehow—not a clone with generic memories, or a Morty from another universe—Rebel Rick turns to C-137 and Morty Prime for help. There’s still no guarantee his plan will work, but he has to try.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #rick sanchez #rebel rick #morty smith

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Alien

Edit to the edit: Now with art from the wonderful @geetimesthree! Thank you so much for this! Please check out the rest of their art as well, it’s amazing!

Edit: copy and pasting from Google Docs fucks up the format so some lines were missing. Please excuse my shitty replacements lol.

This is a Birdrick fic I’ve been sitting on for a while because it got out of my control and I couldn’t figure out what direction I wanted to go with it. It’s set in the early Flesh Curtains days and draws a lot of inspiration from Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series (which I would 100% recommend). It was originally intended to be a series of moments where Rick and Birdperson realise just how alien the other really is to them (with undertones of Birdrick) but it kind of mutated into something more. However, I’ve been so stuck with what do with it that I haven’t really touched it, so I’ve decided to post what I’ve got so far. There are inklings of a plot/potential future stuff developing but I can’t promise that anything more will come of it so this may end up being a oneshot. Anyway, let’s get on with it!

Summary: Birdperson looks close enough to human that Rick sometimes forgets he’s not only a member of another species, but one from an entirely different evolutionary timeline. Other times, however, the difference is undeniable. ~6.8k words

Warnings: ableism (both internalised and from others, including mentions of forced institutionalisation, mainly towards the end), both Rick and BP having derogatory inner thoughts, eating insects (why is this something that’s been a warning for multiple fics of mine lmao)

Birdperson looks close enough to human that Rick sometimes forgets he’s not only a member of another species, but one from an entirely different evolutionary timeline. Other times, however, the difference is undeniable.

One such time is when he offers to make Birdperson a coffee one morning shortly after the Flesh Curtains move in together.

“H-how do you take it? Milk, sugar?” he asks.

Birdperson looks at Rick in puzzlement. “Milk?” 

“Uh, yeah, you know. It comes from mammary glands?”

“Is that not what mammals feed to their young?”

Rick blinks. “Well, I mean, yeah, originally, but most people have it in their coffee or cereal or, or whatever, even adults.”

Birdperson considers this for a minute. “Might I ask how you acquired human milk so far away from Earth?”

“What? No, this isn’t human milk. I-I don’t have breastmilk in my coffee!”

“So it’s artificial?” Birdperson asks with an air of relief.

“No, it’s real! It’s from shloopy-shlops.”

Birdperson looks vaguely sickened. “You consume the milk of other species?”

“Uh, yeah. You didn’t think it was from a human, did you?”

“Are you not disturbed by this? It must be a big change from what you’re used to on Earth.”

“Nah, this stuff is pretty similar to cows’ milk.”

“Cows?”

“Yeah, they’re-they’re a big herbivorous mammal we have on Earth. We use ‘em for their meat and milk.”

“Even on Earth you eat the mammary fluids of other animals?” Birdperson’s expression of disgust deepens.

“Uh, yeah?”

Birdperson takes a moment to steady himself. “Forgive me. I do not mean to judge your species, but this concept is sickening to me.”

Rick grins. “Now you know how I feel about eating bugs.”

Birdperson smiles, very subtly, but Rick catches it. 

“So, no milk?” Rick asks.

For the first time since meeting Birdperson, Rick hears him actually laugh aloud. It’s more of a sharp exhale than anything else, but it sparks a giddy feeling in his chest all the same.

“No, I think I will go without it for now.”

———————————————————————

Rick sits at home, alone and bored. An hour or so earlier, Squanchy had retired to his room with explicit instructions not to disturb him for the next few hours and Birdperson had left to buy groceries. Birdperson had invited Rick along, but Rick had waved the offer off, not interested in braving the sensory overload of the markets on that particular day. However, he has since started to regret this choice, as Birdperson has been gone for some time, and Rick’s not making the mistake of interrupting Squanchy during his ‘me time’ again. As much as he hates to admit it, Rick struggles with being alone.

He gets up and paces restlessly over to the window. He tells himself he’s not going to sit and wait like a dog, but he can’t stop himself from looking outside anyway. 

Pathetic. he scolds himself. You couldn’t bear to be alone, that’s why you moved in here. You want to tell yourself you’re still out hunting, but really you just can’t cope on your own, can you? I hope they get sick of you and leave, and then you’ll have to get back to actually looking for your daughter’s killer. Have you forgotten about that, you piece of shit? 

His train of thought grinds to a halt as he catches sight of Birdperson approaching the apartment building, paper bags in his arms. Rick jumps at the opportunity to escape his thoughts and rushes out of the apartment and down the stairs.

He opens the front door to see Birdperson fumbling for his keys. The other man looks up in surprise.

“Hey, Pers.” Rick grins, leaning against the doorframe. “I saw you coming, thought you-you might want some help.” he holds his hands out and Birdperson passes him a bag. It’s heavier than he made it look and Rick struggles with it for a second. Birdperson raises an eyebrow - or rather, his equivalent of an eyebrow.

“Can you manage?” he asks.

“Yeah!” Rick insists, trying not to let on how heavy the bag actually is. His brain doesn’t help matters, distracting him with thoughts of how strong Birdperson must be and ideas of what else he could use that strength for.

“If you insist.” Birdperson replies in a tone that shows he’s not convinced. “Thank you.”

The two make their way back up to the apartment, Rick finding himself talking far too much about any inane topic he can think of. Thankfully, Birdperson doesn’t seem to mind.

“By the way, whatever you do, don’t go in Squanchy’s room until you’re sure it’s fine. Trust me.” Rick advises him. Birdperson nods seriously in response, knowing all too well what Rick means.

They tumble into the apartment and Rick dumps the bag on the kitchen table, spilling its contents everywhere. He spots a packet of cookies and tears it open, cramming one into his mouth. Among the groceries, he notices a container of bright-coloured red and orange fruit labelled with an unfamiliar script.

“Hey, Pers, what’re these?” he asks through a mouthful of food.

“It is a fruit from my homeworld. Cubba-sah.”

Rick attempts to repeat the word back to Birdperson, who nods at him and takes one.

“Would you like one? They’re sweet.” he offers.

“Lemme just check real quick.” 

Rick fishes around in a drawer and pulls out a device of his own making to check if the fruit is suitable for human consumption. While more widespread species enjoy the safety of relatively common knowledge when it comes to what alien foods they can and can’t eat, humans are not so lucky. After all, very few of them have ever made it off Earth, and fewer still have met aliens, much less tried their foods. As such, Rick has to take his own measures to work out what is and isn’t safe for him.

He scans the fruit and the screen lights up green with the message ‘No known toxins’. Shrugging, he takes a fruit and pops it into his mouth.

A second later, Rick is aware of nothing except burning. A stinging sensation starts in his tongue and rises throughout his face, setting his skin ablaze as it goes. The pain is vaguely familiar to his unconscious mind and he grabs at the fridge, chugging down milk in hopes of relieving the sensation. 

“Hot.” he gasps. His eyes and nose are streaming, blurring his vision. Through the tears, he can make out Birdperson’s form moving towards him.

“Rick, are you alright? Do you require assistance?” he asks urgently.

Rick shakes his head and takes another swig of the milk, wiping at his eyes.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… Jesus, why didn’t you tell me it was spicy?”

Birdperson blinks. “I was not aware that you would perceive it as such. Are you entirely sure that you are not having an adverse reaction?”

Rick nods. “Yeah, because this makes it better.” he replies, raising the milk carton. “Fuck, it’s like eating my abuela’s cooking.”

Birdperson suddenly starts. “Ah.”

“What?”

“I… have just remembered something.” he seems uncharacteristically downtrodden. “On my home planet, there is a species of rodent we call sqoo rah lub. They are pests that invade supplies of grain and the like. To deter them, we use an extract of this fruit. It contains a compound that they find unpleasant, but that is harmless and undetectable to us. I believe the term for it in common is ‘capsaicin’.”

Rick chuckles. “Ah, that would explain it. So these,” he gestures to the fruit, “are basically peppers?”

“I am unfamiliar with this term.”

“Hang on.” Rick rummages through the cupboards until he finds a seasoning that’s roughly the alien equivalent of chilli powder. “Try this.”

He sprinkles some on Birdperson’s outstretched fingers. Birdperson raises them to his mouth and flicks out his tongue to lick the powder from them. Rick has to fight to keep his thoughts from wandering off into less appropriate areas. Birdperson smacks his lips.

“It is… very dry.”

“But not spicy? Or hot?”

“No, just a slightly sweet-tasting powder. You mean, to you, this causes pain?”

“Ah, pain’s a strong word. It’s kind of just like… a burn.”

Birdperson still does not look convinced.

“I have seen you use this on your own food before. Why do you own and consume something that causes a burning sensation for you?”

Rick shrugs. “It’s nice. Gives it a kick. A-and hey, like I said, I grew up on Abuela’s cooking, this is nothing in comparison.”

“I am afraid I still do not understand.”

“Oh man, if we ever visit Earth you totally have to try a ghost pepper.”

When Squanchy emerges from his solo session, Rick hounds him to try one of the cubba-sah. Squanchy sniffs it and instantly recoils with an expression that reminds Rick of a domestic cat.

“No way am I squanchin’ that! It smells like that stuff you put on your food!” he exclaims to Rick, backing away.

“I wonder if it is only mammals that experience this as spicy, or whether it is only my people who do not.” Birdperson ponders.

“See, you eating this I can understand because you don’t feel the burn, but him,” Squanchy points at Rick, “I just don’t get! How can you enjoy that pain?”

Rick grins. “It’s not painful, it’s just a nice kick.”

They continue to squabble playfully and, for the first time in a long time, Rick allows himself to relax into the happiness, rather than waiting for it to be snatched away.

———————————————————————

Living in what can only be described - in rather generous terms - as ‘a shithole’, Rick has long since become accustomed to pests. Slugs, some sort of small rodent, and, most recently, ants have all invaded their apartment and subsequently faded into just another part of the background noise. Therefore, it doesn’t come as a surprise to him to walk into the kitchen one morning to a colony of the insects on the floor.

What does catch him off guard, however, is the sight of Birdperson lying amongst them, wings spread out and lowered so that they’re touching the floor. Rick’s half-asleep brain takes a few moments to clock his bandmate at all, but once it does, it goes into overdrive, thinking his friend has passed out or worse. Before Rick can spiral too far, however, Birdperson tilts his head up to look at Rick.

“Good morning, Rick Sanchez.” he greets, using Rick’s full name in a way that never fails to make Rick melt a little inside.

“Uh… BP? What’re you doing?” Rick asks, his voice still rough with sleep.

“I am getting rid of parasites.” Birdperson responds simply, matter-of-fact as ever.

“…how?”

“It is a natural remedy used on my home planet. A compound produced by these ants helps to kill harmful microorganisms that reside in my feathers.”

“So this is… normal, in your culture?”

“In a sense, yes. Usually, I would use what my people call ‘kubba rub-oo’ - loosely translated, it would mean…” he trails off as he mentally translates the words “...‘feather-cleanse’ - but I have been unable to find anything suitable on this planet. The natural method is slightly old-fashioned, but effective.”

Rick stares blankly for a few seconds before accepting this information. “Cool. You want coffee?”

“Indeed.”

Rick brews coffee for the two of them, serving Birdperson’s with no milk - god knows they’d already been through that fiasco - and two sugars, just as he likes it. Birdperson remains on the floor as they drink their coffee in companionable silence. 

Rick averts his eyes and decides not to comment when he sees Birdperson begin to pick ants from his feathers and pop them into his mouth. In a best case scenario, this could be an effective pest-control solution, but he’d rather not think about it too much. He sets the half-empty coffee mug on the table, unable to stomach the rest.

Birdperson doesn’t see Rick for the next few days, but assumes that the scientist has simply got himself wrapped up in a project. Since the Flesh Curtains are still struggling to book gigs, Rick’s absence doesn’t have a negative impact on the band, and it’s not unusual for Rick to disappear for days at a time, so Birdperson decides not to worry unless the other man doesn’t return soon. 

That evening, Birdperson walks into his room to find a bottle of unidentified deep red liquid and a note on his bedside table. The handwriting is familiar to him from lyric writing sessions and blueprints scattered haphazardly around the apartment. He picks up the note and begins to read.

BP,

I looked some stuff up and the main ingredient of kubba rub-oo is formic acid, with some stabilisers and then scents added in. That’s what this is. I know you like grenaberry so that’s what the scent is. Hope it works.

-R

Birdperson sets down the note and smiles. He picks up the bottle and sees a spray lid, then tilts it to confirm the liquid’s water-like viscosity. Both of these match his expectations, and he trusts his friend’s abilities, so he extends a wing and cautiously gives it a single spritz. The smell is sweet, but with a distinct and familiar sour undercurrent. Satisfied, Birdperson sprays the rest of his wing, then the other, followed by his head-feathers. The liquid feels cool and pleasant on his feathers, and he lets it soak in for a few minutes before padding to the shower to rinse it off.

The steam amplifies the scents and Birdperson’s breath catches for a second as he’s hit with a pang of homesickness. At first, he’s confused at his own emotions - after all, the reason he left his home world in the first place was that he always felt like an outcast there - but quickly finds the feeling replaced with gratitude at Rick’s gesture. His friend has taken the time to listen to him, learn about his culture, and try to recreate part of it as a present for him.

Birdperson spends the rest of the shower bobbing between bittersweet memories and a newfound depth of affection for his bandmate. He flutters his wings to let the water flow through his feathers and wash away the oil. 

Once he switches the water off, he stands with his wings outstretched for a few minutes, letting them dry. While he might use a towel for the rest of his body, feathers are always better to air dry.

As he exits the shower, he catches a glimpse of his outline in the steamed-up mirror and freezes. Something isn’t quite right about his appearance, and he can’t work out what until he shifts his weight slightly and sees a flash of dark pink at the edge of the mirror. Turning to look at his wings in disbelief, he realises Rick’s attempt at kubba rub-oo has dyed them. He wipes the condensation from the mirror to inspect his reflection more closely and finds that his head-feathers have also been discoloured. Being darker, the grenaberry hasn’t quite managed to turn them the same deep pink as his wings, but the colour difference is definitely noticeable. He even thinks his skin might be slightly pinker than usual.

Birdperson wraps a towel around his waist and exits the bathroom in pursuit of the living room, where he can hear Squanchy laughing as Rick protests.

“Oh, man, Rick, didn’t anyone ever tell you ‘don’t squanch too much or it’ll turn your palms red’?” Squanchy guffaws. “What were you even doing?”

“Sh-shut up! It was an experiment!”

As Birdperson rounds the corner, both Rick and Squanchy’s gazes turn to him simultaneously. The three stare at each other in silence for a moment before Squanchy cracks up. He chokes out what Birdperson assumes to be some sort of joke at his expense, but his laughter is so strong it renders his speech unintelligible.

Birdperson looks at Rick, expecting him to also be cackling, only to find the man staring at him intently, his cheeks pink in a way Birdperson doesn’t think has anything to do with the kubba rub-oo. 

“Rick Sanchez?” he asks, and this seems to snap Rick out of his reverie.

“O-oh, hey, Pers.” Rick chuckles guiltily. “I see you found my… present.”

Birdperson nods. “Indeed.”

Rick raises his hands up as if in surrender, showing their red staining. “Sorry. I, uh, I guess I didn’t realise grenaberry would stain.”

“Rick Sanchez, you went out of your way to learn about and recreate something from my homeworld on my behalf. This was extremely kind of you.” he ignores Rick pretending to vomit at this and places a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Rick freezes and looks away, his cheeks once again pink. “I-it was nothing. I couldn’t let you roll around on the floor with the ants, could I? A-anyway, I fucked it up.”

“I am very grateful.”

Rick mumbles something inaudible in response, still not making eye contact.

The three sit in each other’s company for a while, Squanchy chiming in regularly with yet another joke until eventually all of them are laughing about it.

After a while, Birdperson realises he should probably get dressed and excuses himself to his room. As he walks away, he hears Squanchy make a final comment to Rick that he doesn’t understand.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

As it turns out, the staining on Birdperson’s wings lasts for quite a while. So long, in fact, that the Flesh Curtains have somehow managed to get themselves a gig before it starts to show any sign of fading.

“Man, Pers, at this rate you’re gonna be like that on the stage.” Rick teases him a few days before the show, lightly hitting Birdperson’s arm with the back of his hand. Birdperson has noticed a marked increase in Rick’s physical affection towards him lately.

“Don’t worry, I hear some people find it really hot!” Squanchy bursts out and Rick scowls at him. Birdperson is mildly confused by the interaction but brushes it off as Squanchy teasing him.

“Perhaps we should match.” Birdperson suggests, only half-joking.

“What, you think I should dye my hair?” Rick asks.

“I think it would suit you.”

Birdperson reaches out and fingers a lock of Rick’s hair, attempting to return the physical affection. Rick’s face turns red, as he’s seen it do before. Although blushing is a behaviour that’s present in his own species, he doesn’t want to assume that it means the same thing in humans, or indeed that it’s the same phenomenon at all. However, he can tell that Rick is embarrassed by it, so he enjoys trying to fluster him. Birdperson wouldn’t want to genuinely upset Rick, but he takes pleasure in teasing his friends, just as they do to each other. This sort of behaviour is not present in his culture, at least not as a means of expressing affection, but Birdperson finds that he likes it. Even though his homesickness seems to be returning more and more often these days, he finds himself continuously discovering new things that make him decide leaving was worth it. 

Rick agrees to dye his hair surprisingly readily, although no amount of cajoling can convince Squanchy to colour even a small part of his fur, insisting that it’s the key to attracting partners. He pops an unidentified pill and situates himself on the sofa in front of some sort of porn while Rick and Birdperson retire to the bathroom.

Since his initial attempt at kubba rub-oo, Rick has made another sample, this time using a flower he claims to be remarkably similar to the vanilla orchid of Earth for scent instead. Although Birdperson has begun using this one, he has kept hold of the original as well, and he brings it out now in lieu of hair dye.

“Rick Sanchez, before we begin, are you certain that this is not harmful to your species?”

“Yeah, BP, it’s fine, trust me.”

Rick pulls his shirt off over his head and Birdperson finds himself regarding his friend’s bare chest with interest. He’s used to the hair on Rick’s head, since it’s similar to his own feathers, and used to the fur covering the whole of Squanchy’s body, but he always forgets that humans have hair on other parts of their bodies as well. Similarly, he finds nipples extremely intriguing - while he appears to have them, they’re actually little more than markings on his chest, some sort of evolutionary leftover, giving him an illusion of humanity. The idea of these markings being something more - something with a function, something that’s an erogenous zone - excites him in a way he’s not sure he wants to admit to, even to himself.

Rick leans his head forward over the sink and Birdperson sprays the liquid into his hair, admiring the way the deep red drops of liquid stand out against light blue strands.

“How long d’you think I should leave this in for?” Rick asks, his voice slightly reverberating as he speaks into the sink.

“I only left it for a few minutes. I am not sure if that will be sufficient for you or not.”

The floor of the shower is still stained red, and Birdperson wonders if they should’ve done this in there instead of giving the landlord something else to charge them for when they move out, but the sink is easier, and it’s too late to change their plans now.

After a few minutes, the two decide they’ve waited long enough and Birdperson switches on the tap, cupping his hands and pouring the water over Rick’s head to help him rinse the oil from his hair.

“Shampoo.” he hears Rick mumble from underneath his mass of wet hair, and passes the bottle into Rick’s outstretched hand. Mammals, he’s found, can generally all use the same sort of product to clean their hair, although when he tried it on a small area of his own feathers, it didn’t wash out properly, leaving clumps. 

Rick lathers his head and Birdperson waits for him to finish before helping him wash it out. They repeat the process until the water running from Rick’s hair is clear.

Rick straightens up and flicks his hair back out of his face, before shaking his head and getting water everywhere, including on Birdperson. He grins at Birdperson cheekily, and Birdperson can’t help but find it charming. He passes Rick the towel quickly, hoping that the human won’t see his smile. He’s found that, although most species seem to struggle to read his emotions, Rick is unnervingly good at it, which Birdperson finds relieving and irritating in equal measure.

Rick roughly towels his hair dry, then flicks it out of his eyes so he can look at it in the mirror. It’s turned out more purple than pink, with some darker reddish streaks in places, but Rick grins anyway and Birdperson feels warmth rise in his stomach.

“I was right.” Birdperson murmurs.

“About what?” Rick asks.

“It does suit you.”

Rick’s face reddens once again and he fumbles with the towel, bringing it back up to his face in order to dry his hair. Birdperson frowns.

“Forgive me, Rick Sanchez, have I made you uncomfortable? I did not intend to.”

Rick freezes with the towel in front of his face for a few seconds before slowly lowering it.

“No, Pers, i-it’s fine. D-don’t worry about it.” Rick doesn’t seem to be telling the truth, but Birdperson doesn’t want to pry and risk making things worse. He stretches a wing out and holds it next to Rick’s head to compare the shades.

“We match now.” he says simply, and Rick grins at him. Birdperson feels his body relax as most of the tension rushes out, although a lingering worry remains. He never fit in on his home planet, didn’t understand social norms or have any friends there. While befriending aliens gives him a fair amount of leeway when it comes to social mishaps, he still feels the familiar fear of rejection sitting uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Rick and Squanchy are the closest friends he’s ever had, and while Squanchy is fairly straightforward and easygoing, he’s all too aware of Rick’s mercurial nature, as well as the suffering that comes with being his enemy.

Besides, Birdperson feels an unusual attachment to Rick, in a way that’s markedly different to his friendship with Squanchy. Part of him knows exactly what it is, but he’s not quite ready to put a name to the feeling. His culture regards naming as a form of cage and, while he might agree with Rick’s perspective on that particular idea for the most part, he’s all too aware of the tendency labelling things has to make them far too real. Names are powerful things, and giving one to this feeling will tie him down in a way that he’s not prepared to commit to yet.

On the morning of the gig, Birdperson walks into the kitchen and is hit by an overwhelming chemical smell. His first thought is that there’s some sort of gas leak, either in their building or nearby. When he sees Rick sitting calmly at the table, he tries to still his panicked thoughts. Rick turns around to face him with a grin.

“Hey Pers! What do you think?” Rick stretches out a hand for Birdperson to inspect. His claws - nails, Birdperson corrects himself - are black and shiny, and he can see a bottle containing a liquid of similar appearance on the table.

“What is this?” Birdperson asks.

“Nail polish. You-you never heard of it?”

“My species does not have nails.” 

Rick rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. “You don’t paint your claws? Or-or talons, or whatever?”

Birdperson shakes his head. “No. What is the purpose?”

“It’s like makeup. Or like dyeing your hair.” he gestures to his hair and Birdperson’s wings.

“A form of self-expression?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Birdperson sits at the table and picks up the bottle, inspecting it.

“You wanna do the other hand?” Rick holds out his left hand, and Birdperson sees that the nails there are still plain.

“I… do not know how.”

“It’s easy! Just grab the brush and smear some on.” Rick pulls the cap off to reveal a brush, then hands it to Birdperson and stretches his hand out again. Hesitantly, Birdperson takes Rick’s hand in his own. He’s not sure if this is acceptable and glances up at Rick’s face to check. The other man is blushing faintly, but looks expectant. Birdperson adjusts his grip so that he’s only holding one of Rick’s fingers and begins daubing nail polish onto the nail. He’s not sure how much is required, so he puts on one coat and then looks over at Rick’s other hand to see if the two are close enough.

“Is… this acceptable?” he asks.

“Yeah! It’s great!”

Birdperson feels reassured and paints the remaining nails, starting to relax into the simple domesticity of the moment and the exciting yet grounding feeling of touch. Once he’s done, he pulls back uncertainly.

“What now?” he asks.

“Now, we wait for it to dry.”

Birdperson gets up and washes his hands, just to be safe. After all, this is an unfamiliar substance, and he doesn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Once they’re dry, he opens the fridge and pulls out a tub of grenaberries, holding them up to Rick and finding himself rewarded with a laugh.

As he sits down and begins eating, Rick leans back his head and opens his mouth. Birdperson stares for a second and then smirks.

“Are you a youngling?” he teases.

“Come on, Pers, I can’t eat when my nails are still wet. Feed me!”

“My people feed our young by regurgitating partially-digested food into their mouths. Is that what you wish for me to do?”

Rick kicks him playfully under the table. Birdperson takes a berry and holds it out just in front of Rick’s mouth in jest. Rick responds by leaning forwards and wrapping his lips around Birdperson’s fingers to eat the berry, pulling back with a shit-eating grin on his face as he chews. For once, Birdperson is the one who’s flustered. Now he understands how he must make Rick feel with his teasing.

“You are a cub rah bah, Rick Sanchez.” he admonishes. He’s fairly sure Rick doesn’t know what that means, but the other man cackles anyway, making Birdperson’s heart flutter in his chest.

Once again, Rick holds his mouth open expectantly and Birdperson feeds him another berry, then eats one himself. They continue in this manner for a while, until Birdperson is sure that the substance on Rick’s nails must have dried by now, but he finds himself putting another berry into Rick’s mouth regardless. 

The gig goes reasonably well - for them, anyway - and they’re in high spirits as they walk backstage. Squanchy almost immediately makes off in search of a woman he claims to have been ‘giving him the look’ for the duration of the show, leaving Rick and Birdperson alone together.

Rick begins his typical excited post-gig breakdown, listing their successes and complimenting Birdperson’s performance while his hands bounce in front of his chest and his fingers dance. Birdperson suspects that this might not be a behaviour that’s typical for humans based on the way he’s seen Rick react when he catches himself doing it, with the kind of shame that only comes from having an intrinsic part of yourself suppressed. Birdperson, always an outcast on his home planet, understands this feeling intensely, and so tries not to draw attention to Rick’s behaviour, even though he finds it adorable.  

“A-and, you know, we looked great while we were doing it!” Rick concludes in that half-joking, half-cocky way of his, indicating their dyed hair and feathers.

High on post-performance euphoria, Birdperson is filled with an uncharacteristic boldness and steps forward into Rick’s personal space, gently taking a lock of hair between his fingers.

“Yes, you did.”

Rick’s face turns redder than Birdperson has ever seen. Birdperson revels in the feeling of soft hair and their closeness to each other. He can see Rick staring at his lips and, without even meaning to, finds himself leaning in.

Apparently Rick feels the same way because the next minute they’re kissing, Rick’s lips surprisingly soft against his. Birdperson can taste the bitterness of the beer Rick had drunk before the show, smell the lingering hint of grenaberry on his hair.

When they pull back, both of them are breathing heavily. Birdperson is overwhelmed by a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Judging by Rick’s face, he appears to be experiencing a similar set of emotions.

“Rick.” Birdperson begins, but before he can put his thoughts into words, he’s interrupted by the sudden appearance of a stranger. 

They both jolt backwards from each other, caught in the act. Fortunately, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice. Xe’s a member of the predominant species on this planet, a scaly six-legged reptile, with a hard grey shell-like structure on xyr back, coming up to just below Birdperson’s waist.

“Hey, I’m Taub, best agent this side of Messier 31. I’ve got clients touring across all six major systems in this quadrant, and I think you guys showed some real promise tonight. If you sign with me, I’ll get you gigs all across the galaxy. So, how about it? You boys looking for an agent?”

Rick and Birdperson glance at each other conspiratorially, their kiss forgotten.

With Taub, the Flesh Curtains finally have a steady set of gigs for the first time in their existence. More than that, they have an actual tour. Taub has just sent across the list of locations and all three band members are sitting around the table, poring over it with interest.

“Oh, man, just listen to some of these places. Alpha-Betrium, Venzenulon-9, not to mention all of our home planets!” Rick exclaims. 

“You know, I wasn’t too sure about Taub at first, but xe’s really out-squanched xyrself with this.” Squanchy comments.

“And that’s not all! Check it out, boys!” Rick tears open a package to reveal black fabric. “T-shirts, motherfuckers!”

“Ooh yeah, gimme!” Squanchy reaches for it excitedly, checking out the illustration of the three of them on the front, then the list of tour locations on the back. 

While their drummer is preoccupied, Rick turns to Birdperson.

“Whaddya think, Pers. P-pretty cool, right?” he asks, and Birdperson can detect a hint of nervousness in his smile. Things have been slightly awkward between the two of them since their kiss, but they’ve been busy with the band now that things are moving forward, meaning that neither of them have brought it up. Birdperson wants to, but he keeps worrying that he’s reading too much into things or misinterpreting yet another cultural difference.

“Extremely cool.” he replies, placing his hand on Rick’s in what he hopes is a reassuring way. The other man blushes and pulls his hand back, and Birdperson is more confused than ever. He opens his mouth to apologise but Rick catches his eye and gives a subtle shake of his head.

“Don’t.” he mouths, his eyes flicking to Squanchy, who’s still distracted by the shirt, rubbing it against his face with an orgasmic expression. Birdperson doesn’t understand the situation, but the instructions are clear enough, so he drops it, not wanting to make things worse.

Rick paces up and down the floor of their rented tour ship, trying and failing to avoid thinking about a number of things. 

Firstly, things have been awkward between him and Birdperson ever since they kissed backstage, and while he knows he’s not helping matters, he can’t bring himself to say anything to Birdperson and risk having his heart broken or making things even more awkward, especially not while they’re on their way to their first gig of the tour, on his own home planet no less.

That brings him to the second issue. He hasn’t been back to Earth since before he met Birdperson and Squanchy, and he can’t deny the anxiety that sparks in the pit of his stomach at the thought of returning, despite knowing that their performance won’t bring them anywhere near his house. Rick’s hands alternately flap and curl into fists at his sides in response, and right there is his third issue.

He’s known his entire life that he’s not like most other people, and not just in the sense that he’s smarter than them. More specifically, he’s not like other humans, a fact that neither his parents nor his classmates had ever let him forget growing up. In response, he had used his incredible intellect and pattern-recognition skills to learn how to fit in around others. It had worked so well that he had adopted the mask almost full-time, only dropping it around a very select few people, all of whom are now dead. 

However, since most aliens have never met a human, let alone have any idea of how they’re supposed to behave, he’s fallen out of the habit of hiding his oddities lately. He’s had enough interspecies culture shock just with the other members of the Flesh Curtains, let alone aliens who are gobsmacked by behaviours such as blinking and laughing, that he’s long since decided to just do whatever the fuck he wants. However, it turns out that, like a too-tight shoe, once you take the mask off, it’s very hard to put back on. Although he’s not planning on spending too much time around other humans, he’s still nervous at the thought of being very openly weird in front of them. 

“Rick?” a voice from behind him breaks his spiral of anxiety and he snaps his hands guiltily to his sides as he turns to face Birdperson. Birdperson only recently seems to have realised he doesn’t need to use Rick’s full name every time, and Rick finds it almost unbearably intimate.

“Are you alright?” Birdperson asks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” Rick knows instantly that Birdperson doesn’t believe him. While with anyone else he would double down on the lie, something about this man in particular manages to break through his defences. “Pers? C-can I… tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I, um… I’m not like other humans. There’s, there’s something… wrong with me. I don’t know what it is, but I could get by, especially once I left Earth and nobody knew if I was acting normal for a human or not, but you’re about to meet other humans for the first time and…” Rick trails off, not sure if he’s trying to hold back from admitting too much or building himself up to say it. Either way, the truth slips out. “I’m worried about what you’ll think of me once you realise how weird I am.”

Rick keeps his eyes fixed on the ground, fighting tears he wasn’t expecting. This is something he’s never told another person except Diane, and he wasn’t prepared for the emotions it’s stirring up.

“Rick.” Birdperson places a hand on his shoulder. “On my planet, I am also, as you might say, a weirdo. Until I met Squanchy, I had never had a friend. He told me there is a word for it in common, ‘autistic’.”

At first, Rick had found himself feeling relieved and connected to Birdperson, but hearing that final word makes something in him snap.

“I’m not fucking autistic.” he hears himself growl, his heart pounding in fear as he thinks of a cousin he had been told his whole life had died as a baby until one fateful argument with his dad had revealed that she had been sent away to an asylum for ‘the severely disturbed’, the place his dad had told Rick he should’ve been sent to. Rick feels a hot, sick rage bubbling up his throat, his body trembling with adrenaline.

“Rick.” Birdperson’s calm and concerned voice snaps him back to reality. 

“I’m not autistic.” Rick repeats, his voice shaking.

“Forgive me. I do not know what this means on Earth. I had not heard of this word until I left my planet. I merely wished to reassure you that I will not think you weird, no matter how different you are to other humans.”

A sob forces its way from Rick’s mouth, and he can’t believe he’s crying in front of Birdperson, but he can’t help himself. He feels Birdperson wrap his arms around him and clings to him tightly, sobbing against the other man’s bare chest. 

“It is OK, Rick. I am here. I will not leave.” Birdperson reassures him.

Rick fights to calm himself and steady his breathing. Eventually, he manages to stop crying, quickly wiping tears and snot from his face. He can’t bring himself to look at Birdperson.

“Come.” Birdperson instructs, gently but firmly, guiding Rick with an arm around his shoulders. Rick allows himself to be led to a bed, wrapping the blankets around his entire body like a cocoon. 

“Rick… I am sorry that I have upset you. It was not my intention.”

Rick sniffles and shakes his head. “I-it’s not your fault, Pers.” he mumbles. “It just… that word brought up some bad memories for me, that’s all.”

He feels Birdperson rest a hand on his arm and continues. “On Earth, people like me - like us - if people find out that’s what we are, they… they get sent away.”

“Sent away… from Earth?”

“No, just to another place on Earth. A… a bad place. If I hadn’t been smart, that’s where they would’ve sent me, too.”

“Are you in danger of this if we return to Earth?” Birdperson asks in concern.

Rick shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. They wouldn’t do that to me now. They couldn’t, even if they tried. But it happened to… to my cousin. I didn’t find out until I was older. My dad told me about it. He said it’s what should’ve happened to me.” 

Rick feels Birdperson squeeze his arm.

“My father was not supportive of me being different, either. I always felt as if I had to prove myself to him, but he was never happy with me, no matter what I did. I knew I was a source of shame to him.”

Rick lets out a humourless laugh and leans to rest his head against Birdperson’s shoulder. “Sounds like we both had shitty dads.”

“Indeed.” 

Birdperson wraps both an arm and a wing around Rick and rests his chin on Rick’s head. Even through his distress, Rick feels a rush of warmth in his abdomen at the gesture. 

“Do not worry, Rick. Even if anybody tried to harm you, I would not let them.”

Rick’s never felt so protected, and that’s the moment when he knows that his feelings for Birdperson are far beyond just a simple crush. He swears to himself that he won’t lose Birdperson, even if it means they’ll never be more than friends. Now, more so than ever, he resolves not to bring up the kiss in fear that it might jeopardise their relationship.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfic #rnm #rnm fanfic #birdrick #rick sanchez #birdperson #squanchy #flesh curtains #flesh curtains rick #the flesh curtains #autistic rick #autistic rick sanchez #autistic birdperson #my writing #my fic #side note if anyone wants to know more about the wayfarers series or the specific bird facts/behaviours i referenced in this fic please lmk #i would love to infodump lol #sorry didn’t realise the format fucked up #also disclaimer that i know there are plenty of cultures where it’s normal to eat bugs #this is just what i thought rick’s view would be #also this is very influenced by the comics (specifically rnm presents: the flesh curtains and rnm presents: birdperson) #like bp being an outcast on his homeworld

[misslisamiray]

Time for another excerpt from Down With the Rickness (and okay, I admit it: the title's growing on me.) After the previous two, Morty deserves a little break, so you're getting some Rick and Jerry interaction this time around!

Also, I tried linking the other two excerpts, but I'm tired & maybe Tumblr hates me a little, so uhh, it's not working and we're gonna try again when it isn't almost 2:00 A.M. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this week's!

Rick was falling asleep, when Jerry walked into the living room, holding a tape up in the air and triumphantly yelling, "I found it! Now I just need to watch the episode 2, maybe 3 times to make sure I don't miss anything. Once I've done that, I'll be ready to cure Rick. And then we'll see whose plan is stupid, Morty!"

"Obviously yours is, Jerry." Rick groaned before starting to cough again.

"What? You're in here?! Shouldn't you be in bed, or back in the garage, or maybe some kind of quarantine bubble?" Jerry asked, jumping back a little and nearly dropping his supplies. Besides the tape, he was also carrying a notebook, pen and pencil. Getting no answer from Rick, he quickly reassured himself, " Easy, Jerry. There's nothing to worry about. You've got everything you need to solve our little crisis right here."

Smiling smugly, he continued, "So does this weird sickness you have work slower in humans? The way you made it sound, it transforms from one awful thing to another pretty quickly. But it's been hours now, and you still seem stuck on these cold symptoms."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Rick asked groggily, opening one eye slightly. After a few seconds, he remembered his cover story. "Oh, right. That. Yeah. Good *COUGH!* job, Jerry. You hit the nail on the head. How long Mimicking Disease makes you think you have any one illness varies, but it does typically progress slower in humans. In fact, it can be so slow, I m-might just be stuck like this the whole time I'm sick." Jerry side-eyed him, and just missed putting two and two together.

"Well, that would be a lucky break, wouldn't it? You contract some alien virus that can make you feel like you have any disease in the universe, and all it does is imitate a bad cold? Sounds like you'll be getting off easy if that's what happens, Rick."

"Of course you'd think that. Personally, I'd rather deal with Venutian varicella or Floopfloopian ass fever or Morgluxian measles any day over five more minutes of this bullshit. *Cough! Cough!* Anyway, talking to you is more exhausting than usual right now, and I'd like to stop. So whatta you want, Jerry?"

Jerry took a few hesitant steps closer to the couch, asking, "Are those real diseases, or are you just making shit up? Are these things I have to worry about you bringing into my home?!"

"Calm down, Jerry. Everyone in the house, you included, is vaccinated against the one that exists and has a vaccine. One of the others has no preventive measures, and one I just made up to mess with you. No, I'm not telling you which is which. My throat feels like I swallowed glass, and this conversation needs to end. So for the last time, what do you *ACHOO!* want?"

#fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #sickfic #rick sanchez #jerry smith #even in the middle of getting his ass kicked by the common cold rick still has to troll jerry a little #it would be concerning if he didn't #this story and coming up with tags for it are fun #actual chapters instead of just these previews are coming soon i promise! #rick and morty #my writing #my fanfic

[something-ricked-this-way-comesx]

An Obsidian Eden - Chapter 16 - The Morty٫ The Rick٫ and The War Drones

Hey guys٫ heres another smut excerpt chapter from my Rick Sanchez fan fiction - above picture is an edit of Rick and my self insert OC Aurora٫ whom this fic follows.

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Warnings: (18+ only minors DNI), NSFW, 3-4k word count, fem reader, self- insert OC character, p in v, Rick Sanchez with feelings, big dick Rick, degradation a bit, rough sex, praise kink, marking kink, choking, orgasms, cream-pie, fingering, nipple play, manhandling, calling him God, age gap I guess٫ love٫ dirty talk٫ relationship Rick

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Rick had Aurora propped up on the porcelain bathroom sink, legs apart as he kissed her senseless. He made a note in his head that Aurora’s skin tone almost matched that of the sink she was sitting on, beautifully porcelain and just as soft and spotless. His hands were now snaking their way up her skirt to find a home on her wide٫ curvy hips for a short moment. He squeezed them gently, hooking his thumbs diligently under the waistband of her panties before beginning to pull them down and off systematically. His lips didn’t leave hers until her panties were dangling by her ankles unfortunately caught on the zipper of one of her signature thick, black, combat boots. When he finally did break their kiss, he bent down swiftly to yank her black lace panties all the way off, placing them inside his right front pants pocket. She wasn’t getting them back either he thought before re-locking lips with her and placing his hands back under her skirt.

The music bumping loudly outside the door quickly shifted genres from the rap music that had been playing all night so far and they both could hear Nine Inch Nail’s “Closer” begin playing loudly throughout the house, echoing now in the bathroom. How fitting, Rick thought as he continued to kiss Aurora like his life depended on it, her lips so soft and malleable against his. She was moaning softly now against his mouth as he traced small circle patterns on the insides of her thick, plush thighs and he wanted nothing more than his cock to be buried to the hilt between those thighs in her sinfully tight pussy. Had he not hurt her feelings earlier, he absolutely would already be inside her, but he wanted to make up for hurting her in a more sensual way first. He was going to worship her body and apologize to her deeply with a love note written on her clit with his tongue.

He flipped her black skirt up onto her hips where it pooled in the spaces between her thighs and hips - he had heard Summer refer to that spot as the thigh-brow once and he felt as if that was a fitting name as any. He got down on his knees in front of her, kissing his way down her thighs as he held her hips roughly in place to the sink. He spread her legs even farther apart, throwing one over his shoulders as he buried his face between her thighs delicately to work his magic on her core with his tongue. Her hands went to his wild hair where they pulled gently as he could hear small, soft moans erupting from her perfect, pouty lips. He fucking loved the way she tasted, so sweet and delectable. He couldn’t quite explain it, but she had always tasted faintly of pancake syrup and it was no secret how much he loved pancakes. He enjoyed giving head in general, just about as much as he enjoyed receiving it, but the way Aurora tasted paired with the way she sounded as she came undone - made him all the more happy to do it especially for her.

In fact, he loved pleasuring her with his tongue. He was obsessed with the way she bucked her hips to ride his face and he couldn’t help, but notice how his cock was so hard now that it was uncomfortably scraping up against the zipper of his pants. Fuck, was she was killing him and he achingly longed to be inside of her with each stroke of his tongue against her sensitive nub. Her moans were growing louder now and he didn’t even care that people could possibly hear her unraveling for him in here, actually, he hoped they did because she was all his - every single bit of her. He wanted people to know that she belonged to him, even if they had no label and they weren’t entirely official, he wanted the world to know that Aurora came undone so beautifully for no one, but him.

“Oh my God - Rick - I’m so c-close.” She moaned, her hands gripping his hair even tighter now. He already knew, before she had even said it because he had it down to a science what exactly and how long it took to push her over the edge.

He loved when she called out to God because he knew that she was talking about him and he absolutely got off on it in a narcissistic kind of way, but he knew she didn’t mind. Despite the fact that he had a God kink, he would have gladly worshiped Aurora like she was a Goddess - his own little Persephone, her immaculate beauty unlike anyone else he had or would ever fuck. He had quite the body count too of course - he had been a lot of places, fucked a lot of people and despite all the people he had encountered, not a single one of them paled in comparison to Aurora in his eyes. Not even Unity.

One of his hands left Aurora’s hips to push two of his long fingers inside of her, curling them delicately to stroke the raised, bumpy flesh of her g-spot as he pumped them in and out of her slowly. She was wriggling underneath his touch now as he picked up the pace with his tongue and he could tell that it wouldn’t be too much longer now before she would be moaning his name and begging him to get inside of her. It was almost like divine intervention the way that after he thought that, her pussy started to pulsate around his fingers and she started to moan endlessly above him.

“Rick.” She moaned, coming completely undone. She grabbed his hair harshly, pulling him out from between her thighs to bring him up to her face again - kissing him as hard as she could.

Rick was taken aback by how fiercely she had kissed him as she was usually so much more soft٫ submissive٫ and delicate with how she presented herself sexually, but he wasn’t opposed to this new side of her at all. He knew that she could taste herself all over his lips and that made his cock even harder, if that was even possible - god damn he thought as his dick was like concrete at this point as it ached for every single part of her.

“Fuck me Rick, fuck me please, fuck me like you hate me.” She begged, grabbing the collar of his lab coat and whispering it into his ear before taking his ear lobe between her teeth for just a moment before releasing it and staring into his eyes.

He wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, his zipper flying down in the process. He had his cock in one hand and grabbed her neck roughly with the other, pulling her in close to him so he could whisper in her ear;

“I’ll fuck you baby, I’ll fuck you fucking senseless, but make no mistake that I will never, ever hate you.” He growled, his hand tightening around the sides of her neck as she let out a small moan and a mousey “please” in response and fuck was he concerned that he might turn into a puddle for her right then and there.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He said as he maneuvered his cock to the entrance of her bare, wet pussy - waiting for her to beg for him one last time before he could finally bury himself within her.

“Rick, please.”

There it was, what he was waiting for and he gave her a small smirk before reattaching his lips to hers and began pushing himself all the way inside of her, hearing her gasp from the size stretching her out like she always did. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or maybe the drugs that he had taken throughout the night, but he could feel himself be smacked with an overwhelming rush of love and affection towards the beautiful, whimpering woman beneath him. He broke their kiss to watch as his dick disappeared and reappeared from her depths as he rhythmically thrusted in and out of her - her pussy gripping his cock like it didn’t want to let him go.

He bottomed out, cumming inside of her as he laid his forehead gently against hers, both of them out of breath as they held each other.

“I’ll never get tired of that.” He grinned, rubbing his nose affectionately against Aurora’s causing a small smile to creep across her ruby tinted swollen lips.

“Me either, fuck - please help me clean myself up.” She begged as he pulled out of her tortuously slowly before pulling his pants up and re-tucking his shirt.

“Oh come on - you don’t want me running down your thighs for the rest of the night?”

“Are you saying we’re done for the night?”

“As fucking if, I could be be buried in that pussy all night baby, you know that.”

“Then help me by grabbing me a towel from that cabinet.” She pleaded, legs still spread wide open as she sat on the edge of the sink.

“I have a better idea.” Rick smiled devilishly, sliding to his knees once more to attach his mouth to the fountain between her legs, lapping up any and all mixed bodily fluids.

He looked up at her through his eyelashes as he feasted upon her folds as if she was his last meal and his dick got uncomfortably hard again as he seen her head back٫ eyes rolled٫ and mouth open releasing small moans in pleasure. She didn’t tangle her delicate hands in his hair this time٫ but rather white knuckled the edge of the sink as he worked his tongue around her clit now.

“Rick٫ please - someone is going to need this bathroom.”

“Fuck ‘em٫ I was in prison and I missed the sweet taste and feeling of this perfect pussy every goddamn day - they can go use Squanchy's other bathroom or maybe a fucking bush outside like normal fucking drunks.” He hummed٫ hovering over her sleekness as he spoke before taking two fingers and shoving them inside of her roughly - a gaspy moan erupting from her throat in response.

“Rick.”

“What is it٫ Aurora?”

“Please٫ don’t stop.”

“Thought you’d see it my way٫ such a little slut for me aren’t you?”

She mewled a small “mhm” in response٫ grinding her hips up against his face as he continued to bring her to the edge and back every few seconds - the denial almost becoming painful for her as he held her harshly to the edge of the sink by her right hip. Aurora was growing impatient with Rick’s antics though and thought of a devious plan to not only get what she wanted٫ but woo Rick in the process. She shuffled under his touch a bit٫ his grip on her hip loosening up enough for her scoot away from him. He stood up confused by the sudden interruption and she used this as an opportunity to tackle him - him catching her in his arms as her arms and legs snaked around his body tightly.

He was taken aback by her sudden defiance٫ but placed his hands underneath her ass to support her weight as he not so gently slammed her perfect body up against the wall. He could see her tits bouncing from behind their long sleeve prison and grabbed ahold of the collar harshly enough to pull it down. Just enough to where her bra-less٫ pierced tits were now on full display to him and Jesus fucking Christ were they beautiful. He dipped his head down, pulling one of her already hard nipples between his lips where he suckled intensely and teased her with his tongue٫ one of his hands reaching out from under her to twist the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He simply wanted to devour her whole body and not only with his touch٫ but his eyes too. He almost wished that he could take pictures of her during these moments so he could remember how beautiful she was when she was a glutton under his touch٫ but he didn’t need them when he could have the real thing whenever and wherever he wanted it.

He thought back to the night he turned himself in at the Plim Plom Tavern and how he had fucked her brains out in that bathroom then too٫ promising not to drop the soap or fuck anyone else in that dirty federation prison. He didn’t either٫ keeping his promise to her; it was honestly hard to fuck other people when he knew they weren’t going to be anywhere near the same level of perfect at taking his dick the way Aurora was. He didn’t even want to fuck Unity anymore and they could be anyone he wanted them to be٫ but that didn’t matter to him because they couldn’t compare to his Rory no matter who they assimilated.

Rick unbuckled his pants again٫ Aurora pushing them with her legs off his hips just enough for his very hard dick to spring free٫ slapping her with a loud “smack” as it was freed from its own denim prison. He hoisted her up against the wall just enough to lower her till his dick was buried all the way inside of her - her soft٫ spongy flesh somehow feeling even better than it had just 15 minutes short minutes ago. He adjusted himself to where he had one hand gripping her throat to the wall and the other was still supporting her weight on one of her perfectly round ass cheeks. He began to thrust up into her at an unforgiving pace٫ him noticing the mascara streaks on the apples of her pink hued cheeks now. He felt an unfamiliar twinge of pain or maybe it was guilt as he realized those streaks were from her crying earlier and not from their sexcapade in this bathroom.

He removed his hand from her throat and instead used it to caress her face gently٫ his thumb running over the black streaks littering her face as if he was checking to see if they were real. Her big٫ large doe eyes were looking up at him as he furrowed his brow in worry at her. She was so delicate٫ so fragile despite her bad bitch goth persona and he was actually worried that he would one day destroy her. Not in a fun٫ sexual way either. His mind wandered to how he didn’t want to hurt her anymore and he thought that maybe the best course of action would be to break whatever this was with her off٫ but he didn’t know if he had it in him to do so. He actually really did love Aurora and knew for a fact that he probably didn’t have the strength to let her go.

He was still fucking her as his mind raced through what he should do٫ it taking longer than usual for him to come because he was preoccupied mentally with a different dilemma. She was still writhing against him in pleasure٫ her hands gripping him with an extreme tightness that let him know that she herself was close to orgasm. He was good at putting on a good poker face and was glad she couldn’t tell anything was amiss٫ he really didn’t want to have to lie to her and he would have to if she asked what was wrong. He soon pulled out of her٫ setting her down gently to the floor as he milked his cock into shooting thick ribbons of his cum into the sink near by - him pulling his pants up again and cleaning the mess from the sink by turning on the water for a few seconds.

He kissed Aurora’s temple as she adjusted her top and skirt to look less disheveled before she looked into the mirror and gasped at her mascara streaked face and her wild sex hair. He watched her intently as she hurriedly fixed her appearance even though he thought that it didn’t matter much because she looked beautiful either way. He wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head on top of hers as he looked at them in the mirror and couldn’t help٫ but think how good they looked together.

“I love you.” He murmured٫ watching a smile creep across Aurora's beautiful face as he said it.

“I love you Aurora٫ you gorgeous٫ delicate٫ little flower you.” He hummed again٫ her turning to reach up and pull his mouth to hers - pressing their foreheads together as she broke away.

“What kind of flower am I to you٫ Rick?”

“Of course you’re a magnus flower from The Forbidden Zone٫ deadliest٫ but most beautiful flower in the galaxy.” He replied٫ kissing all over the sides of her face as he awaited her response.

The flower he was talking about was a large٫ hibiscus like flower that was often poached and synthesized for either poison or an additive to multiple of the galaxies most potent drugs. It was a black flower that shined with a purple overlay٫ just as aesthetically beautiful as it was dangerous - there were even rumors that some sub species had cross pollinated and grown sentient overtime٫ but that was yet to be anything more than just a theory. This flower was not only one of the most beautiful things Rick had ever seen٫ but the minute he had stumbled upon it some odd years ago٫ he immediately thought of Aurora. Aurora was also a deadly force of nature when she wanted to be٫ but her beauty over shined her poison just like the magnus flower.

“Awe wow٫ that was actually r-really nice of you٫ t-thank y-you.” She stammered٫ her cheeks blushing wild with pink as she struggled to get her sentence out without stuttering nervously.

“I have my moments.”

“Rick?”

“Yes٫ love o’ mine.”

“Are we - is this? Are we finally together?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Well٫ I thought it was kind of obvious-”

“Then yes٫ we are whatever you want us to be.”

“Okay٫ good because we are absolutely fixing this eye sore of a bald spot tomorrow officially as a couple.” She beamed٫ her doe eyes lighting up at Rick as she said the words “as a couple”.

“Hey٫ it adds character.”

“No٫ it doesn’t - oh٫ and I love you too.”

“Took you long enough to say it back٫ christ.”

She giggled at him٫ his lips kissing a heart pattern all over her forehead now.

“We should probably get back. Ya know before they start to wonder where we are.” She said٫ grabbing his hand in hers as she started to walk towards the locked door.

“Oh٫ trust me they know where we are.”

“Was I really that loud?”

“Well٫ you weren't exactly quiet Ror.”

He rolled up his lab coat sleeves and walked over to the door unlocking it before opening it and gesturing her out first.

“After you٫ m’lady.”

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As always if you enjoyed this give the full fic a chance over on wattpad:

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez fuckers #rick and morty #rick sanchez x oc #rick and morty smut #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez fanfiction #rick sanchez imagine #rick sanchez smut #i would die for him #rick c137 #rick smut #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty oc #rick & morty #rick sanchez smut fanfic #rick sanchez x self insert #smut #i hope you like it

[thoughts-and-gayers]

wrote a silly lil fic

#rick and morty #morty smith #rick and morty fanfic #ram #rnm #r&m