Chapter Text
You stand in the shower, letting the scalding hot water burn over your skin as you rinse the suds out of your hair. It’s been three weeks since you stormed away from Rick on the alien planet, stealing his spaceship and leaving him on the surface, and you were still pissed.
The look on his face as he’d shuddered back into view had been satisfied at first, but then as he’d taken in the pure, unadulterated rage on yours it had faltered.
“B-baby, wait-“ he’d started, but you hadn’t given him the chance to speak, just smacked the probability simulator out his hand and stormed to his spaceship, taking off before he’d even caught up. He’d cursed you out from the planet surface, but he was lucky that stealing his ship was all you’d done. If you’d had a gun you would have shot him.
The last few weeks you’d been subject to a torrent of messages, calls, and drunken visits, but you’d shut them all down and the last one had been over a week ago, and you were starting to think that he’d finally gotten the message.
You’d liked him. You’d really liked him. And the worst part was that you were beginning to think that he felt the same. Or at the very least that he was into you enough to not actively fuck with your head. You scowl, slathering on far too much conditioner, watching as the silky liquid drained away, forming a little water pool at your feet. He was an asshole. But you’d always known that, and you were starting to wonder whose fault it really was that you’d let him get close enough to hurt you. Could you really blame a scorpion it’s sting?
You sigh, rinsing the product out of your hair and shutting off the water. Since you’d banished Rick from your life, the world had gotten a hell of a lot smaller, and you were doing your best to convince yourself that it was that more than him that you miss. You step out of the shower, kicking open the door to your room and flopping down at your dressing table.
Your hair sticks to your shoulders, rivulets of water snaking down your skin that’s still far too pale, only emphasising the dark circles under your eyes. You sigh, unscrewing the lid of your moisturiser and massaging it into your skin. There’s a crash and you yelp, dropping the pot and jumping as it smashes on the floor. You turn as a buzzing, familiar hum floods your ears and there’s a flash of green and you groan collapsing your head forward into your hands.
“For fucks sake.” You mumble under your breath, as a portal explodes to life on the wall behind you. You don’t even bother to turn, just watch in the mirror as there’s a squelch, a rumble and then Rick stumbles into view.
“I don’t know how many times I have to say this Rick.” You say before he even has a chance to open his mouth. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
“S-some fucking welcome this is.” He grumbles, running his hands through his faded blue hair, and you stare at him through the mirror.
“I’m sorry if there’s been some confusion here, Rick, but you’re not welcome. You are the opposite of welcome.” You sigh, and he stalks towards you with a scowl.
“L-look, I’ve had a long – urrp – a really long fucking day and I need to talk to you.” He says and you frown.
“Well I don’t want to talk you.” You reply and he brings his long fingers up to his temples massaging them and you frown deepens into a scowl that matches his. “I’m sick of these fucking games, Rick. Just leave me alone.”
“Y-you think that’s what… You think that I came all the way here to play fucking… to play goddamn games?” he says, tapping something onto a gadget on his wrist, looking almost bored as he looks back up at you. “I’ve got a -bleaarrgh- a whole galaxy of toys sweetheart. If I wanted to play, I wouldn’t be here.”
“A whole galaxy, huh? And here I was thinking I was special.” You say, smiling at him sweetly and he narrows his eyes at you.
“Yeah well that was your f-f-urrpppp-fucking mistake.” He says and your heart twists despite your bravado.
“Yeah.” You respond, flatly. “Clearly.”
“Clearly.” He repeats, eyebrows furrowing and fists clenching at his sides, and you shrug your shoulders, with a sigh.
“Great, so we’re agreed. It was my mistake, so can you just leave me the fuck alone, Rick? Because I’m getting sick as shit of you turning up like this.” You sigh, pushing a wet tendril of hair behind your ear as you stare at him in the mirror.
“No you’re not.” He said and you roll your eyes. For once in his life he’s wrong. What happened on that planet has made you realise once and for all where you really fit in his life and that had hurt. And you were sick of being sad about it. You’d rather not be in his world at all than be so fucking… dispensable.
There’s a movement in the mirror and you realise he’s shaking his head.
“You’re not.” He says and you frown.
“Sorry? I’m not what?” You ask and he lets out a huff of annoyance.
“Dispensable.” He says and your eyes widen, but he continues before you can speak. “If you w-were, do you really think I’d be here?”
You stare at him and the anger that’s been bubbling under the surface boils over.
“You don’t get to do that.” you hiss and the venom in your voice makes him flinch.
“D-do what? What did I fucking -blerrghhhh - what did I do now?” He asks and if it was anyone else the pure confusion in his eyes would make you believe him, but this is Rick Sanchez, and you know better.
“Read my thoughts.” You hiss and his eyes widen.
“Sweetheart-“ he starts, and you growl at him, finally swivelling around to face him and you immediately regret it as a waft of that heady scent of alcohol and engine oil wafts into your nostrils. You swallow it back and focus on your anger.
“No. You don’t get to do that either. You don’t get to show up here unannounced and you don’t get to call me sweetheart and you especially don’t get to invade my brain with any more of your Rick shit.” The words are angry and incoherent, spilling out of you like bile and he’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. You start to stand, but as you push yourself up from the stool, firm fingers grip your shoulders, shoving you back down.
“Wh-what you think this is a fucking trick?” He asks and you try to shrug him off, but his fingers just dig tighter into your skin, and you just glare back at him. He narrows his eyes, fingers slipping down your shoulders and slamming onto the table, palms flat against the dressing table, pinning you in.
“R-really? Your really -blearghh- think that I’d master the power of telepathy and w-waste it on fucking- on this?” He stutters, face dangerously close and despite your anger your heart starts to thud faster in your chest like it always does when he’s too near. “You’re really that fucking egotistical?”
You snort at that, and try to spin back around away from him, partly because he’s pissing you off and partly because it’s impossible to hold onto your anger when he’s that close to you, but he blocks you with his knees, and the contact makes your lower regions contract. You suddenly wish you were wearing more than just a towel.
“I know because I fucking - urrp- because I know you, okay? Trust me, you’re not that difficult to – blerrgh – you’re not so hard to read that I need to invent a whole new category of s-science to understand you.”
His face is so close now that you can feel his breath on your skin as he talks, and your heart is beating so fast you worry it might give up. He needs to back up or you’re going to kiss him.
“Rick…” you breathe, the anger completely gone now, and his eyes narrow as he catches the breathiness to your voice.
“F-fuck this.” He stammers, and then he’s closing the distance and crushing his mouth into yours. You try to remain passive, but his arm snakes around your back, hands pushing into your spine and squeezing you into him. His tongue laps at your lips and you squeak, and he pounces on the opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth. It’s hot and sloppy and desperate, and you wish you could, but you can’t help it. Your hands find the lapels of his lab coat, balling into fists around the fabric and clutching him to you.
He lets out a low groan hands slipping from your back to your ass, lifting you briefly, as one hand sweeps across the dressing table and sends your things scattering before dropping you down onto it. He’s breathing heavily as he stands in front of you and your eyes drop to the straining bulge in his pants. You have the briefest flashback to the simulation and the way it feels to have him inside you, stretching you, and you can’t help but shiver. You suddenly can’t get enough air into your lungs and have to place your hands on either side of you to steady yourself. When you drag your eyes back up to meet his they’re so lust blown his irises are almost completely swallowed by his pupils, his fingers balled into tight fists at his sides. He kicks the stool away and you jump as he steps forwards, strong hands on either of your bare thighs, fingertips running just beneath the scratchy fabric of the towel and making you shiver.
“I know you w-want this, baby. You can’t-can’t hide it from me.” he purrs, a cock-sure grin on his face, and you swallow, anger suddenly beating back the flames of desire, and you push him away. The surprise on his face is almost total as you stand up and shove a finger into his chest.
“So what?” you growl, “I’ve wanted lots of things that are bad for me. Luckily I have something called self-control.” You push away from him and stalk to your closet, pulling out clothes. You’re suddenly so sure that if you can just get dressed, get a physical barrier between your skin and his, you’ll be able to say no. Be able to push him away. He doesn’t care about you, he just wants to prove a point, and if you give into him now you’re just going to be right back where you started.
You swallow as something in the back of your mind tells you that if you manage to resist him this one last time he’ll give up, and as much as that twists at your heart, that’s what you need. You pull out a sweater and suddenly his hands are at your waist, swivelling you around and his hips are pinning you against the wall.
“Please.” He growls, pressing his forehead against yours. “Please j-j-just give me a chance, sweetheart. I know I fucked up before. But please, just l-let me make it -urrp- up to you. Please.” The word is melting you. You’ve never heard him say please outside of sarcasm or lies, but he sounds genuine now and it’s sending lust rushing straight between your legs. “Please. Please-“
You can’t help it. You cut him off by pressing your lips against his, and before you can even think about how goddamn stupid you are, his hands are at the towel, ripping it off you. You gasp as his hands pull at your naked waist, rough, calloused fingers digging into your skin, and you’re so turned on you can’t breathe. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his thoughtlessly as he slams you back against the wall grinding his hard on into you through the fabric of his pants.
“Oh god.” You whisper, as he meets your eyes and the same crazed desperation that’s flowing through your veins is reflected back in his eyes.
“F-fuck baby. I swear I’m gonna make you feel s-so… I’m going to make you feel so good.” He stammers and your breath catches as he pushes into you again and his head dips to your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Sweet electricity zips between his lips and your clit and you moan softly as he drags it between his teeth, nibbling gently as one hand comes up to massage your free breast. It feels so good, but then he bites down, and you buck into him with a gasp as lightning flashes through you. The hand at your breast squeezes painfully and you groan at the feeling, inadvertently rocking your hips into his, and when he pulls back he’s grinning.
“So my- my girl likes it rough, huh?” he purrs, and you can’t handle it.
“P-please Rick.” You gasp, as he twists a nipple between his finger and thumb and your head drops against his forehead again and you groan. You can’t stop thinking about how he felt inside you and you need it. You need him. “Fuck.”
“Did-did you want something?” he asks, twisting again and making you whimper before his fingers are trailing to the heat beneath your legs. You squirm, grinding yourself against the hardness that’s pressed against you.
“Please.” You groan again, and when his fingers find your clit you cry out, a long, anguished sound as he starts to rub in slow circles. You writhe in his arms.
“Tell -urrp- tell me, sweetheart.” He whispers, and his voice is unsteady and that just makes you whimper more. “T-t-tell me what you want.”
“Oh god, Rick.” You gasp as his fingers start to move faster, tight circles of mind-numbing pleasure and you can’t get the words out to tell him how much you need him. He groans into your ear, and you twitch at the sound, helpless in his arms.
“Tell me.” He says, thrusting against you, again and you whimper and it’s such a pitiful noise that your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Say it. T-tell me you need me.”
“I- I-“ you cut yourself off with a hiss as he slips a finger into you “ah- oh, god, I n-need you Rick, please. Please.” He lets out a strangled noise and his fingers leave you as they fumble with his belt. You drop your hands to his waist, trying to help as your shaking fingers undo the button of his pants and then your hand is slipping beneath his underwear and wrapping around the silky, hard, huge length of him.
“H-holy shit.” He breathes, gritting his teeth as you squeeze him gently and the way he shivers makes you feel so powerful. You give a couple of experimental strokes, briefly wondering how he tastes, and he lets out a moan so guttural that you stop thinking at all. His eyes fix on yours as one hand slips beneath your ass, holding you in place and the other wraps around yours, guiding him to your entrance.
“Rick-“ you start, but he starts to push into you and the sensation steals your words. It’s just as painful as you remember, but already you can feel your body adapting, trying to swallow him in as the hugeness of him forces you to stretch around him. He’s murmuring into your ear as you pant desperately into his, and he bottoms out with a hiss. He tries to keep you still, tries to hold you there to let you get used to his size, but you squirm needing the friction, needing him to move, and every movement draws a little huff from his lungs.
“God-goddamn it will you -blerrgh- will you stop squirming.” He chokes through gritted teeth, and you try but you cant help it. He starts to pull out of you and cry out as he drags over that bundle of nerves. You rock with him, needing that friction, want overriding common sense, and the movement makes his hands slip and you plummet onto him, and you scream as he slams against your cervix.
“Rick.” It’s a desperate whine and it’s all you can bare to say as he starts to stagger towards your bed, every movement making his hips pulse into you, nudging against your cervix.
“Oh Jesus.” He gasps into your ear as you mumble incoherently at the pleasure that’s stabbing through you with every step, and then he reaches the bed and collapses on top of you. You moan as he pulls out almost to the tip and he stares down at you with a wild look in his eyes. For a second he doesn’t move, just holds your gaze and that’s almost enough to tip you over the edge, and then he’s shoving back into you and your eyes roll back into your head.
“That’s right,” he hisses, moving faster now, drawing gasps from you with every movement. “You-you-you’re -ah- taking it so well, baby.”
Tension is starting to build, winding through you from as he rocks into you, and you need to feel you skin against his. You start to reach for him, but before your numb fingers can grab at him, he’s shrugging of his lab coat and pulling off his jumper, hips still pistoning into yours. He drops his sweater to the floor, and you reach from him, hands clawing into his skin as he collapses on top of you.
“Rick,” you breathe, “rick, rick, rick” like a prayer or a plea, over and over as he thrusts into you, lips at your throat, the vibrations from his growls reverberating through you and you can hardly breathe. You can feel it building, feel pleasure burning through you from where you’re joined, all the way up to your brain, clouding you in golden heat that’s about to break.
He pulls out suddenly and the fog recedes, and you squeak in distress at the lack of contact.
“Rick!” you whine and he laughs. A full, throaty laugh and it pulls at your heart just as surely as it tugs at your core, and then he flipping you over and pushing back into you and the new angle devastates you.
He thrusts and you scream as he impales you right in that spot and you can feel tears start to well in your eyes, as your throat desperately tries to find purchase on words, but all you can do is whimper as the pleasure picks up where it left off with every thrust.
“You’re mine.” He breathes, hot and desperate at your ear and it almost sets you off, your walls clenching around him as the wet, heavy thud of him pounding into you fills your ears. You moan and he shudders, hand snaking around your waist to your clit as he hammers into you, and you whimper, the feelings too much. “Y-you’re all mine baby, you hear me? Cum for me. Cum on – ah shit – cum on my dick, sh-show me who you belong to.” He growls, and you come hard.
You can hear screaming and if wasn’t for the raw feeling at your throat as you writhe helplessly beneath him you wouldn’t realise it was you. His hand tangles in your hair painfully and when his free hand comes to your mouth you bite down on it as the pleasure rocks through you, and he grunts and shudders, losing pace. He chokes out your name with his final thrust and the sound makes you gasp as your walls clench around him, milking the heat that explodes inside of you as you shiver and twitch beneath him. He collapses onto you and you don’t have strength to even try and hold you both up and you fall forward into the pillows, as his softening cock slips out of you and liquid runs down your legs.
He’s whispering your name, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face as he grabs your hips and rolls you both onto your side, and when your eyes meet you twitch again, grabbing onto him for support as an aftershock rips through you, choking you with another wave of pleasure. He holds you tight, making soothing noises, pulling you against him as he guides you through the final, wracking pulses, until you collapse into him, exhausted.
And then you feel it.
The pull in your stomach.
That strange, flickering feeling.
“Rick, I swear to God.” You groan, and the venom is strong enough to prickle through your exhaustion and when you look his eyes are startling close to yours.
“Wh-what the fuck did I do now?” he asks, and you wait. Wait for him to start to fade out and when he doesn’t you frown. The weird feeling in your stomach is still there and you jolt as you realise it’s not a simulation, it’s just old-fashioned butterflies, and no sooner has that realisation hit another, deeper feeling starts to swell up inside you.
No. Please God no.
You try and push the feeling back down, but its blossoming in you, blooming through your veins and as it does he stares at you, eyes wide.
Love.
The word flashes through your brain, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore it. You knew you were stupid, but this you didn’t realise you were capabable of being this idiotic. You keep them closed, trying to control your breathing, trying to not give him any signs of your sudden realisation because if he does you’ll never hear the end of it. You swallow and when you’re sure you’re calm you open them again, and he’s still staring at you.
“What?” you ask, nervously. There’s no way he knows. Surely there’s no way that he knows. He shakes his head and says nothing, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest tightly. You smile, breathing in the scent of him, letting it soothe you, trying not to think about your disconcerting realisation until you don’t need to try anymore because you’re fast asleep in his arms.
He waits until your breathing’s evened out, soft huffs of breath falling over his collar bones before carefully disentangling himself, standing up and tucking himself away. He wants to stay and the yearning wriggles through his guts like something physical. But he can’t. He doesn’t trust himself.
It’s taken him weeks to get you to come around. Weeks of scheming and plotting and failed experiments, but tonight he finally cracked it. He tapped at the strange contraption on his wrist, the device he’d been working on since you first turned him away, and the radio wavelength connecting your thoughts to his stuttered, then turned to static. Which was just as well. He'd had no idea he was going to be able to hear you so clearly when he’d tuned into your brainwaves. His testing on Jerry and Summer had yielded barely there whispers of half formed thoughts, but you… When he’d connected to your frequency it was like having your lips pressed against his goddamned mind, the honey sweet syrup of your voice slipping through his neural pathways, interlocking your thoughts with his and he’d almost bust a nut right there when you'd first wordlessly told him just how much you needed him.
He shivers, remembering just how quickly you'd worked out what he was doing. "You don't get to read my mind." That's what you'd said and he'd almost had a heart attack. It had taken everything he had to rebuff you, to call you an idiot, when all he really wanted was to cross the room and fuck your brains out for being the only person in the world that could cut through him out so quickly.
How one person could be smart enough to see right through him with such startling clarity, but still think of themselves as dispensable to him was mind blowing.
And it was really starting to piss him off.
He ducks to scoop his lab coat off the ground, sifting through the pockets for the portal gun before pointing it at the wall across from your bed. He almost pulls the trigger but then looks down at you and the peaceful expression on your face. Firing it would wake you up.
He swears under his breath, tugging his coat on and shoving the gun angrily into his pocket before running his hands through his hair.
You had really done a number on him, that was for sure. What the fuck did he care if the portal woke you up? What was it to him if you opened your eyes and realised he was leaving? Why did he fucking care.
Love.
The word that flashed through your brains flickers through his, pulling at his guts and he growls. He doesn't have time for this shit. Jesus Christ, his own grandson was rotting in a Galactic Federation Prison cell with thousands of dollars worth of class A drugs shrunk down and hidden in his blood cells, and he was here trying to get you to what exactly? Agree to be with him? Ridiculous.
He groans, tearing his gaze away from you, hands balling into fists as he stalks toward the door. If you were going to torture him with all these fucking feelings he was he was going to torture you right back. He slams the door behind him with all his strength and waits for the yelp and grins as he hears it. He pictures you, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and panicked as you bolt upright at the sound and realise that he's gone. That’ll do for now, he decides, and then he fires the portal gun and steps through it without a looking back. He'll be back soon enough.