#morty x reader

[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

[reareaotaku]

Morty Smith Headcanons

Artists: therageus & Robin

Not good with the ladies at all

Though, when he has his moments, boy does he have them

Also depends on which Morty you get. You're most likely to get Prime Morty or Evil Morty

Prime Morty has trouble talking to you and can't seem to control himself

^ He's always saying stupid stuff that just embarrasses him

^ He need his Rick to save him or help him

But Evil Morty is a little different

He doesn't like caring about anyone, but you're different than other people

You're something special

And Rick C-137 figured that out, because he's the smartest fucking Rick

And when Rick threatened you, Evil Morty did not take that kindly

Evil Morty threatens to kill Prime Morty if Rick C-137 ever touches you again, he'll ruin Rick's life

Though it doesn't really matter which Morty you get, because it's most likely that Morty would be to scared to approach you [Expect Evil Morty]

But he will admire you from afar

Has a whole shrine dedicated to you

Hopefully you never find out about it

Because that would be embarrassing

Oh, god he would never be able to show his face

Kind of wants to take you on adventures, but he also knows how dangerous they are and how traumatizing they can be and he'd rather you stay the way you are; Perfect

#rick and morty #morty smith #morty smith x reader #morty prime #evil morty #morty x reader #rick and morty hedcanons #mortimer “morty” smith sr.

[deareststars]

General relationship hcs for Morty, Steven, Wallace, and Volkner with gn s/o?

similar to the last one, i'll be splitting this into 2 parts. first will be morty & volkner bc i wanna keep our fave gen iii boys together :,)

characters: morty (gen ii/iv), volkner (gen iv).

content: gn reader, established relationship, feel-good stuff all the way through. reader is a pokemon trainer, but their full occupation is unspecified in both morty & volkner's hcs.

tw: none.

MORTY

the two of you meet in ecruteak city at the bell tower. morty sees how stunning you are, and immediately uses his world-famous pickup line: "i'm able to see the future, and what i see is the two of us together."

he's absolutely a cheerful, flirty partner who never relents on pickup lines no matter how long you've been dating. everyday is a new adventure because this man has so much energy.

"morty, where are we going?" you ask, exasperated as he pulls you along the cobblestone paths in ecruteak. it's autumn, his favorite season, and his partner pokemon, gengar, is running alongside you. he looks over his shoulder and grins. "there's a new place i want to show you! it's almost as stunning as you, my will-o-wisp!" as he watches your lips curl into a bright smile, he laughs and begins running faster, excited to see how you'll react to seeing this new place in person.

even though he's obvious with his feelings (the man thinks he's smooth, but when he's in love, he can never stop nervously laughing at every joke you make and always finds an excuse to touch you), you have to make the first move. i imagine his confidence is a facade; deep down, being groomed to take over the gym after his parents, and many people generally being suspicious of him because of his love for ghost-type pokemon, has left a lot of scars and trust issues.

but when you do start dating, physical touch becomes his go-to love language. draping himself over your shoulders, holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist—PDA has become an integral part of your relationship.

of course, tell him if it makes you uncomfortable, and he'll tone it down in public. but when you're in private, cuddling is a must.

gengar becomes an integral part of your relationship, too. the pokemon is actually more mischievous than his trainer, leading to more than a few...incidences.

you stand in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you cut up some vegetables for dinner. morty is directly to your right, boiling water on the stove and dancing to the song you're singing. a chill runs down your back, and you look down. you shriek as you see your shadow begin moving around, jumping back into morty, who catches you. "gengar!" you yell, scowling as the purple ghost-type leaves your shadow and appears in the kitchen, snickering and pretending to act innocent. morty laughs, and despite your annoyance (the surprise made you drop the knife, meaning you'd have to spend extra time cleaning it before you could finish dinner) you couldn't help but laugh, too. "one day, i'll get used to it!" you exclaim. "i mean, i don't mind being your knight in shining armor," morty teases. gengar makes kissy noises behind his stubby little hands.

VOLKNER

you meet volkner in the midst of his burnout. after a lot of prodding and poking, he finally agrees to battle you in a friendly training match—and is electrified by your presence.

he's not the most cuddly person in the world. PDA is incredibly limited, and when you're home, you have to initiate most of what you do. what he does enjoy, though, is taking care of you: cooking you food, giving you massages when you come home stressed, making sure laundry is folded and put away as soon as it finishes.

i imagine you have to pull him away from his work often. having made so many things in sunyshore, volkner is out late at night, making sure everything is still working.

you walk into vista lighthouse, and finally find volkner on the observation deck, overlooking the city. "hey, it's getting late," you say, coming over to him and putting a hand on his back. "i know," he replies. "just...thinking. i'll be back home soon." you shake your head. "no, sir," you tease. "'soon' is going to turn into coming back at sunrise. let's get you some tea and a good book to read, okay?" he stares at the moon, high above the ocean. "but what if something happens?'" he asks. "and what if i'm not here to fix it?" "dear, you've got to stop worrying about things like that. eventually, something will happen, but you can't fix it if you're not in fighting shape, right?" with that logic, he finally relents and lets you guide him back down. he kisses your cheek, apologizing and promising to make you breakfast first thing in the morning.

volkner is someone who appreciates intelligence. even if you're not as well-read as him, he likes talking things out with you: schematics for new projects, battle strategies, new inventions he'd like to make someday. listen to him ramble, ask questions, and give him your input if you feel confident. he'll appreciate it no matter what you do.

when flint comes by and they have their occasional battles, it's like a totally different version of volkner. he's energetic and passionate as he comes up with different ways to catch flint off guard, and every time he does, he immediately looks to you like he's trying his best to impress you.

"luxray, use thunder fang on magmortar's arm!" flint's eyes widen as volkner's partner pokemon grabs magmortar by the arm and crushes it between its electrified fangs. magmortar grunts and tries to throw luxray off. "now, throw him to the ground!" luxray goes back onto his hind legs, managing to pull magmortar with him, and throws him down. the force is enough to crack the floor, and flint chuckles. "you never run out of ideas, do you?" volkner's not paying attention to flint, though. he stares off into the stands, making direct eye contact with you, and grins. you roll your eyes and cup your hands around your mouth. "pay attention to the battle!" "right, right," volkner says, turning back to the field as magmortar gets back up. "don't worry! i'm just getting started!"

#pokemon heartgold #pokemon soulsilver #pokemon diamond and pearl #pokemon platinum #pokemon #reader insert #headcanon #x reader #request #volkner x reader #morty x reader

[r0-boat]

Yapp'n about Morty in autumn

Random Pokemon Morty headcanons

Morty x gn!S/o

S/o coming back from work to see that there goes type gym leader boyfriend decked their entire house in skeletons fake gravestones Ghost Pokemon decor. Morty is very normal about Halloween

Morty going all out and his monster costumes.

With him being the Ghost type gym leader versus his practical worship of Halloween y'all's house becomes the coolest house in the neighborhood for trick or treaters.

An exchange for extra scares of course he gives out the best treats!

Around the holidays your house gets real cozy with the smell I've scented candles and a warm home. If you're still cold tell him I'm sure he'll have something to have you bundle up with as he makes you a cup of coffee or hot chocolate with either a stick of cinnamon or extra cream depends on what you like.

Morty probably having a vampire phase in Middle School, Still has a soft spot for vampires he doesn't care glitter ones, monstrous ones, or vampiric animals.

Morty lives for the fall the cool weather the pumpkin desserts and Drinks, Snuggling in light coats and scarves, hearing the leaves crunch beneath his shoes

Expert pumpkin carver, he takes all day for just one pumpkin however he takes his time in his masterpiece making sure it's exactly what he wants.

Morty has always been a fan for horror, however nearing Halloween he always starts watching classics or anything currently coming out, he always asks for you to join him and if you're still scared of horror movies he always offers himself for you to cuddle up to. Can't help but think how cute you are as you grasp at his clothing closing your eyes or hiding yourself with the blanket. Occasionally squeezing you closer to him or rubbing your arm or shoulder or giving you a light kiss on the head to make you feel better, Maybe every now and then pausing to ask if you're okay.

When Dawn breaks, kissing you on your sleepy forehead before rising at his usual early hour, Morty sighs just like last year. He was sad to see it go, but he still had fun. Of course, just because the holiday is over, that doesn't mean he can't still enjoy the rest of his favorite season, leaving some of his decorations in the house a little longer before preparing for Christmas.

He'll enjoy the rest of the holidays, all the while counting down the days till the next one~.

#pokemon x reader #pokemon morty #Morty x reader #gym leader morty #pokemon masters #pokemon imagines #Pokemon

[dolcettamagica]

being rick’s doll

@thatg8rl

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 #rick and morty #rnm #r n m #rick & morty #rick sanchez x you #rickfucker #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez x self insert #rick sanchez x reader #rick x y/n #rick x reader #rick x you #rick sanchez

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (Masterlist)

Rigor Mortis; or, how to live your life after a half-decade of decay. 

Relationships end. People die. You move on, and Miguel does too. 

(roommate! Miguel O'Hara x reader, college-ish au). 

(AO3) (Main Masterlist) (Wattpad)

Warnings: angst, smut, friends with benefits, mentions of depression, child death (not explicit), grief. 18+ Minors DNI (+ ageless blogs will be blocked)

Series' playlists:

this is what i listen to whilst I write

this is the kind of playlist I imagine RM!Miguel listens to

(i am very open to suggestions/additions :D)

00 rigor mortis,

01 or in the cold, crisp morn:

02 lady death, at the cradle of a babe.

03 they were here, she says,

04 lips blue and black and gold (18+)

05 and they were good. (18+)

06 in your half-hearted hubris, (18+)

07 all-consuming grief, (18+)

08 you had forgotten; they were good.

09 all that light lost in gaps (18+)

10 between your bodies; (18+)

11 cracks in clay, poured over,

12 tbd

13 tbd

14 tbd

15 tbd

16 tbd

17 tbd

18 tbd

19 tbd

20 tbd

Join my taglists here <3

Bonus chapters:

RM! Miguel headcanons (SFW) (NSFT)

A week of firsts (set between 06 and 07)

Bonus Miguel POV chapter

Quickie

massive thank you to my beta readers, who put up with all my stupid questions, helped me with translations, and gave wonderful feedback on where I could improve.

Thank you @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys!

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #masterlist #rigor mortis 😼 #kat_writes😼 #angst #angst with a happy ending #smut #miguel o'hara smut #me when i write novel length fanfic cus I'm delulu

[bingobongocheerio]

(Y/N): What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises?

(Y/N): It becomes daytrogen.

Rick:

Rick: I'm going to bed.

(Y/n): Good nitrogen.

Morty: Sleep tightrogen.

Summer: Don't let the bedbugs bitrogen.

Rick: [angry screams from the garage]

(Y/n): Let's go before he comes after us.

#rick and morty x reader #rick and morty #rick and morty incorrect quotes #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #morty smith #morty smith x reader #summer smith #summer smith x reader

[mortytheestallion]

let the light in

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, sex pollen, unprotected sex PIV, angst if you squint, cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), rick being kinda mean, this fic is 18+ minors dni

A/N: this was a fucking beast of a fic i've been trying to wrangle for months. based on this ask

>> Come over.

>> Emergency.

> real emergency? or morty didn’t like your vat of acid emergency?

>> I’m not gonna ask again.

Rick usually enjoys messing with you too much. He’ll beat around the bush as long as he can because it drives you insane. He loves to dangle the unknown in front of you for as long as possible, right up until you just can’t take it anymore. 

You don’t bother to rush over anymore. You used to fall all over your apartment, scrambling to find your keys amidst paperwork and weekly takeout. Cursing and throwing piles of clothes everywhere, just for them to be sitting nicely on the hook you never use. 

Only for Rick to need the screwdriver two feet to the left of him. 

“It’s important I don’t get distracted,” He would grumble at your obvious frustration, a self-important thank you as you hand it over and he sends you back on your way. 

Asshole. 

Or the time he’d let Morty’s ointment sit too long, and you had to help wrangle him back home. You seemed to be the only one who got bit, however, as Rick made it away unscathed. Typical. 

You let out a sigh, uneasiness settles like a stone deep within the pit of your stomach. 

You don’t have time to look up from your phone before a portal appears in the corner of your room. You pause for a moment, taking in the green glow and slight pulsing sound. It must really be an emergency if he couldn’t even wait for you to make the drive. It wasn’t long by any means, but you can’t ever remember a time he’s gone out of his way to portal you over. 

Slight annoyance runs through you at the convenience he’s withheld from you all this time, but you push it away. This must be urgent. That doesn’t stop you from lacing up your shoes, slowly rising to meet the portal before the familiar falling sensation hits. You still haven’t gotten used to it. 

The garage is dark, save for something that glows blue in the corner. It's not lost on you that the house’s defense barricades are currently in place. 

Rick’s sitting low on the chair he keeps at his workbench. Slouched as he braces his arms against his knees, long legs splayed open. 

His hair is even more unruly than normal. There’s a cut above his eyebrow, and dried blood that mars his lower lip. His usual look of boredom adorns his face, yet the slight twitch of his lips betrays his cool demeanor as he looks you up and down. 

Your instinct is to shrink away from him, but you hold Rick’s gaze. His signature lab coat is missing, his blue longsleeve is riddled with holes and burn marks. More dried blood makes it cling to his right side, but if it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. His long legs are spread wide as he casually lounges there, he looks much more broad than usual. 

“Are you okay?” Your breath catches, “I mean, is everything okay?” You curse yourself at the way your voice quivers under his unrelenting gaze. You hate that he has this effect on you. 

“I got hit on Gearworld-” Rick pauses, as if weighing whether or not to divulge more information, “Idiots are testing bioweapons on non-gear life forms.” His brow quicks at your panicked expression, he lazily holds one hand up to signal he’s going to continue. 

“I know this isn’t —uh, what you imagine when you slip those pretty little fingers into your pants at night, but I really need your help.” 

Your eyes go wide at his request. Sure you’ve helped him on all kinds of different planets in all different kinds of ways, but never anything like this. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck at the implications of what he’s asking. You can’t help but bite your lip, it doesn’t slip past you how Rick’s hips buck in response to the small action.

You can’t find the words. Why now? Why me?

“Now—now or never, baby,” His voice breaks your trance, “I got a fucking problem here and if you’re not into it don’t— I’m gonna take care of this myself.” 

“Why me?” You bite your lip, suddenly shy as you shift your weight. He lets out a groan, his spare hand dragging across his face in annoyance. Always the drama queen.

“Are you really gonna make me say it?” You’re locked in a stalemate. His chest is heaving from whatever they’ve injected him with, although you have a pretty good idea by now. He looks at you like he’s hungry. It makes you lose your train of thought. He lets out a groan and a soft fuck. Pleasure shoots down your back and settles down deep in your spine, it makes you shudder. 

““You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice the way you ogle me? I had to pull you out of an alien hole for god's sake, because you were too busy watching me instead of doing what I told you.” 

“You’re such a dick!” Embarrassment washes over you like a flood. The blood rushing through your ears is so loud as it carries the thump thump thump of your heart. 

It’s so Rick to have known about your feelings before you did. Part of you wishes you could crawl inside your apartment and never leave again. You’d just have to get used to the 24 DVDs piled against the TV, and apparently salisbury steaks are back. You could make that work.  

“Yeah I’m a dick with a problem so either get riding or get the fuck out.” 

Fuck he’s mean. You hate that it turns you on. You like to think that under different, less dire circumstances he’d be nicer. You know he cares for you, he wouldn’t keep you around if he didn’t. It’s so sick. You’re watching him get better, be better, and yet he seems to revert back just when you need him the most. 

You take a step toward him and he’s on you, instantly. His shoulders drop as rushes to get his hands on you. He huffs rucking your pants down your thighs. You kick your pants off the rest of the way, watching as he wastes no time to rip your lacy underwear off your body. 

“Fuck it feels good to do that for real,” you quirk an eyebrow at his statement, but he ignores you in favor of sucking a bruise where your hip meets your thigh. His other hand trails upward, tugging on your shirt to indicate he wants it off. You comply quickly, letting out a soft moan as he bites the tender flesh spot he’s been nursing below you. 

Rick always runs warm, handprints burning into your skin as he grips any piece of you he can get his hand on. You whine at the loss of contact as he uses his workbench you’re pressed against as leverage to bring himself back up to your level. 

You squirm underneath him, the press of the cool metal against your back combined with his rough clothes against your front proves overwhelming as he takes your face into his hands. 

He kisses you like you’re air and he’s drowning.

You go limp against him, allowing him to lick into the wet cup of your mouth. The metallic taste floods your mouth, he’s kissing you so hard his lip resplit. You can feel yourself clench around nothing as you bite it and he groans. 

His face is rougher, you realize, more than you imagined. Stubble rubbing against you as he makes his way down your neck sucking and biting. You can’t help the mewls coming from your mouth that he elicits, you can tell it’s fueling his ego as huffs below you. 

His sweater itches against you, but the burn only fuels the arousal as it pools within your core, you whimper as his hand brushes against your front. Your soft sounds egg him on as he returns to your mouth, he gives your lip a rough tug with his teeth before plunging back in with his tongue. 

Rick had always been rough with you, this was something else though. He shoves a knee between your thighs, groaning at how warm you feel against him. One hand reaches around to grip the back of your neck as the other catches the back of your thigh to bring your leg around his hip. 

He grinds against you this way, holding you so tight you worry you might break in half. You sigh against him, desperate for any contact that allows pleasure to ripple through you as the rough material of his pants continues to catch against your clit. 

Affection from Rick was so rare, you continue to drink in this feeling, relishing in being special enough to have him give you so much of his attention. 

You let out a whine as he breaks the kiss, upset at the loss of contact. He sucks air in through his teeth as he leans back, taking a moment as his eyes rake over your body. You take this as an opportunity to explore him with your hands, taught skin supported by firm muscle bounces back against your fingers. 

You don’t miss the way he’s straining against his pants, bulge prominent against the khaki adorning his legs. 

You take the natural pause as an opportunity to push his sweater up indicating you want it off, he wastes no time to fulfill your request as he rips it from his body in the blink of an eye. Goosebumps raise on his skin as his bare form meets the cool air, Rick presses himself back against you seeking your warmth. 

“Are you gonna fuck me, or-or are you just gonna—oh!” You squeal as he tweaks your nipple in warning, he gives into your request, nonetheless. You feel a slender finger drag down the length of your body. You lean forward to capture the corner of his jaw, biting softly to busy yourself as you wait for him to touch you. 

Your heart leaps, a shudder makes its way down your spine as his fingers catch on your clit, giving his attention to where you need it the most. You’re already wet and warm for him, a low groan escapes his throat as he feels you. 

He nudges a long finger between your folds, drinking in the sounds it pulls from you. He watches your expression intensely, the slightest indication of pleasure spurring him on as he seeks your validation. 

You can tell he’s holding himself back, sweat beads along his hairline as he’s lost deep in getting you off. You wish you could reach out and smooth his furrowed brow, but you’re cockdumb on his fingers alone. You always thought it would be good with Rick, but you didn’t know it would be this good. 

You buck into his hand as the arousal floods deep within the pit of your stomach, it's almost overwhelming how electric his touch feels. 

He shifts underneath you, attacking the soft spot above your collarbone as he sucks the flesh tender. He removes his finger from your clit, choosing to run it through your soft slit instead. You moan loudly at the sudden shift in contact, he grunts in response, releasing your shoulder from his bite. 

You open your eyes as he removes his hand, sucking in a breath as he brings it to his mouth and sucks. 

You gush as he moans around his fingers, the sound vibrating through his chest as you watch him savor you. He releases them with a pop, a strand of salvia linking them back to his mouth. He doesn’t hesitate as he pushes those fingers into you, and you jolt at the sudden contact. 

Your fingers are gripping the workbench so tight you’re sure if you looked down they’d be white. Your back arches as his fingers slide in easily to the knuckle. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He murmurs, but you know he wouldn’t hear the answer even if you had one to offer him, eyes half mast watching his fingers pump in and out of the tight channel of your pussy. He slips another finger into you, and your arms give out at the wave of pleasure that assaults your senses. 

Every muscle in your body tightens as he angles his hand so the flat edge of his palm can press against your clit. He continues to curl his fingers against the spongy piece inside you, focusing on how your cunt pulses slick and hot against him. 

“Fuck– Rick, I-I might, I’m gonna—” He can barely hear you, too distracted by the lewd he elicits out of you. There’s sweat beading along your hairline, he can feel your lowering muscles spasming as he twists and scissors his fingers. 

He picks up the pace, you can feel yourself dripping against his hand, clenching as your orgasm rapidly approaches. He moans as you grip his forearm, nails digging into the muscle. 

“Fuck!” You cry out as he fucks his fingers up, he twists his hand to press circles against your clit and you scream. You clench hard around him in soft, hurried spasms that make him choke on the groan he was about to let slip. He feels the rush of liquid that flows out of you as you burst across his knuckles. 

He watches as you arch off of his workbench, shuddering as he pulls pleasure out of you in waves. He thinks he could come in his pants from this alone, the pollen coursing through his veins making him lightheaded. His skin is too tight for his body, limbs feeling as though he’s moving through molasses. 

Every time you touch him feels like a douse of cool water. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of heat that makes his vision blur. He wants to bring you closer, he’d bury himself inside of you, carve himself deep within your chest if he could. Every cell within his body is screaming, urging him to lick and suck and devour you. 

“I can’t– I’m not gonna be able to be gentle with you,” you peer up at him, eyes wet from the intensity of your orgasm, “I won’t be able to take it slow.” 

You swallow, eyes flicking down to his crotch before meeting his gaze. 

“Do you think it’ll fit?” 

He barks out a laugh before curling his fingers you didn’t realize were still inside you. You cringe, at both the tender feeling and the loud squelch that emits from below you. 

“Yeah, yeah sweetie, it’s gonna fucking fit,” Rick wastes no time undoing his belt, wolfish grin ghosting his lips. He lets out a deep moan and fuck as he pulls himself out. 

You can’t help the noise you make at the sight of it, he’s thick and leaking. You wish you had more time, you’d love to take him in your mouth and make him see god. You take him in your hand instead, brushing your thumb along the top of his cock and humming when his body jerks with it. He thrusts into your grip impatiently, your fingertips catching every ridge and crevice along his length. 

You gasp as a calloused hand reaches up in one swift movement to grab your throat. 

He enters you with one swift movement, pushing your legs up to get a better angle, ignoring the way you groan as your back hits the wall.  

You ignore the pain, blooming for him—sucking him in with your molten heat that nearly blinds him. You want to make it good for him. You want him to know that you can be good for him. You want him to come back after a particularly rough day and bend you over his work bench, or call you in the middle of the night purring for you. 

“Fuck, Rick, oh my god,” your eyes roll back, cunt contracting around him. He responds with a heavy slap to your ass that lurches you backward, almost off of him before he slams back into you. His strokes are deliberate and powerful, he fucks you so hard he can hear it. 

He fucks and fucks you, every slam of his hips making your lashes flutter. You’re shuddering around him, walls spasming as you cross the line into overstimulation. You let out a strangled cry, your second orgasm hangs in front of your face and you start to push back against him, desperately seeking release. 

Rick’s jaw clenches, clicking from an old injury. He’s trying to control himself, but you’re burning hot and tight as all hell. He bites the inside of his cheek as you blossom around his length, throwing his head back as the loud slap slap slap of his hips keeps you dripping on his cock. 

You allow yourself to drink in Rick’s distracted state, dragging a soft hand up and down the side of his body, relishing in the way he shudders and gasps at your touch. The idea that he’ll discard you after this, making excuses about not being himself or reacting to the effects of pollen hits you like a truck. It almost sobers you out of your cock-drunk state. 

He draws you out of your spiraling with a strained gasp as your fingers find tender flesh, you hesitate before digging into the soft muscle with your nails. It pulls on your heartstrings to willingly inflict pain on him, but any remorse is instantly washed away at the way his dick twitches inside you. 

“Sh-shit, do that again,” Comes that dark, gritting baritone as he releases his grip on your legs, choosing instead to wrap a calloused hand around your neck, quickening his pace with sloppy thrusts. Rick lets out an honest to god moan and you clench around him. He pulls out abruptly, and you whine at the loss of contact. 

Hurt floods your features, anxiety clawing its way up your chest at the smallest sign of rejection. There's not enough time to ruminate before he’s back on you, sliding to the hilt. You hiss at the return of pressure, pain searing into you. Adjusting around him, you slide your nails down his back. He moans arching into your touch. 

“I don’t–,” He’s interrupted as a particularly deep thrust hits something spongy within you and you’re writhing under him. He captures your jaw in his firm grip forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyes. 

You look utterly fucked out. Tears leaking from the corners of your eyes make his cock twitch, he’s ready to come but he needs to tell you first. He needs you to know.

“I don’t think you understand just how fucking long— ” Your eyes go wide, “I’ve wanted to hit this hot fucking cunt.”

Each of his words is punctuated with a particularly hard thrust. Your breath hitches in your throat at his confession. 

“I know I’ve been a dick lately—” 

“Jesus, fuck, Rick, just shut up and fuck me!” You can’t take it anymore, god knows how he’s doing it in his state. Your outburst earns you a hard slap to your ass that he’s holding off the edge of the workbench, whimpering as his fingers dig into the burning flesh. Part of you wanted to hear what he had to say, but you need it to be from him. Not from the Rick with aphrodisiac poison coursing through his veins. 

The room is dense with the sound of wet flesh coming together again and again as he takes his thumb and rubs it over your clit in short, quick circles. His cock throbs inside you, you feel your pussy making room for him where you didn’t think possible, allowing him to carve you open and make you his. He grips your hips harder as you try to push away from him, the pleasure overwhelming. 

“Uh-uh, I’m not done with you. You–you wanted the Rick, baby, I’m gonna make sure it’s worth your while.”

His pace begins to chase something frantic, you writhe under him as he licks a hot stripe up the side of your neck. You’ve been reduced to nothing but high pitched moans, panting and shivering under him. Your pleasure crests until you feel you’ll explode.

And you do. Your vision goes black as your orgasm racks your body and you explode wet– nearly pushing him out of you as you shove the heels of your hands into your eyes because you cannot look at him right now. 

“Fuck,” He rasps, “Goddamn, did you— you just– you’re–,” it just melts into a pile of sounds before he’s groaning sinfully, a last, hard thrust before there is the telltale sprouting of warmth within you. 

You're drunk on him, absolutely fucked out as your walls still spasm around him. You yelp as he drops you back on the workbench before dropping down to his knees. 

He ducks his head to slide the flat of his tongue through your folds, tasting the slick that drips from you. You shudder, clumsy hands tugging his hair, pulling him off you. You manage to prop yourself up on one arm, looking down at him.

“God you’re fucking filthy.” “You like it.”

His chest is heaving, cock rehardening already from where it rests above the waistband of his unzipped pants. It makes you cringe, he must be in so much pain. 

If he is, he doesn’t let it show. It's something you’ve always noticed about him, the lengths he goes to hide himself from the world. From you.

He’s given you this, even in his own fucked up way he’s given you this. It makes your heart swell. Worry picks at you from deep in your subconscious, but you push it away for now. You want to give him something back, he knows how you feel but you need him to know. 

It’s why you’re sliding off the bench, sinking to your knees as he rises above you. 

“Damn, I would’ve fucking injected myself with that shit if I had known it would’ve gotten you here like this, for me,” He’s so fucking smug, stupid smirk gracing his lips as you take him in your mouth. You’ll wipe it off though, prove to him why he chose you. 

Make sure he’ll always want to choose you.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez fanfic #rick Sanchez/reader #Rick C-137

[bruhseidon]

Y/N: Look at your dad. Such a dork, keeping snakes. I mean, it’s… at least it’s interesting, though. At least, like… I wish my dad kept snakes. I mean, it’s kind of cute. Like… your dad keeps snakes. How old is your dad? He’s obviously snake-keeping age. I don’t know, I think it’s kind of sweet. Mattheo, I wanna fuck your dad—

Mattheo, annoyed: Oh, really?

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #voldemort #voldemort x reader #incorrect harry potter #source: rick and morty

[bouncybongfairy]

was wondering if you could write a morty smith x reader where you both get high after studying together?

Study Date

Morty Smith x Fem Reader

Summary: Morty musters up the courage and asks you over for a study date. Who knew studying human biology could have such interactive hands on lessons.

Word Count: 1.5k

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Smut, Fingering, Squirting, Nipple Play.

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

It was lunch and you were sitting at one of the tables in the quad. Your friends were fixing up their hair and make-up as they picked at their food. Talking shit about girls they either didn’t know and/or don’t like. The conversation was starting to shift, them talking about how Morty came up to you before class. He’d invited you to come over after school and study. A lot of your friends think he’s weird or odd. That was one of the things you liked most about him. Most guys tried acting all big and confident when trying to pursue you. Puffing their shoulders out and bragging about all the illegal activities they partake in. Morty was quite nervous when he spoke with you, like he was savoring every second he could be near you. Him being so flustered and shy made you feel flattered. 

“Are you really going to his house after school?” Trisha asked. 

“Yeah, why not?” you asked, stabbing at your salad. 

“I don’t know he’s just kinda… like strange?” she asked, which made the entire table laugh. 

“Not as strange as Brad going back and forth between you and Jessica like he’s test driving a car he might wanna buy. Even once he picks the one he wants, we all know he’ll run it into the ground,” you said, packing your lunch and bag. 

They were idiots and you didn’t appreciate the little jab towards Morty. You could tell that it took a lot of him to muster up the courage to talk to you. As someone who also struggled with shyness and social anxiety, it hurt you to see people poke fun at that. You ended up going home early, too worked up to go back to class. Even though you had nerves, that didn’t take away from how excited you were. There were two classes where you sat behind him, at times you wouldn’t pay attention to what was going on. Watching all his nervous little mannerisms, the way he picked at his nails. Or scratched the back of his neck when we were given an assignment he didn’t understand. 

Sometimes he’d come to school with a gash above his eyebrow, or a purple tinted bruise under his eye. You liked how he kinda looked sad and tired all the time. It was weird, you weren’t really sure why. It didn’t take long for you to get home. Letting yourself in because your mom and dad were both at work. This worked out great for you, it meant you could take hits of your pen out in the open. Also allowing you to use all the makeup on your moms vanity without her fussing. Time was flying by a lot faster now that you weren’t on campus. This may sound vain but you really want to impress him with your physical beauty.

Ensuring to pay attention to the smallest details, making sure your eyelash glue wasn’t visible. That your concealer wasn’t caking under your eyes. After staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, you drove over. His house was really nice, furnished like a 90’s family movie. Pictures of family and inspirational quotes, very cozy. Morty’s room was nice. He could normally keep it very tidy but, you’d like to think he cleaned it because you were coming over. Different posters scattered about his room, a rug in the middle of the room; made to look like the solar system. 

“Have you always been into science?” you asked. 

“Uh, no my grandpa is the one who made me into it,” he said, pulling out the chair for you to sit at his desk. 

“Oh yeah, Trish was telling me about that. What’s like the craziest thing you guys ever did in space?” you asked, emptying your bag. 

“One time Rick was selling this-” he started but you interrupted. 

“No, no I meant like you. Not Rick, I wanna know what’s the craziest thing you’ve done,” you clarified. 

“I- um well. This one time Rick had to do some business on the citadel, I couldn’t come for w-what ever reason. There’s this, like club/bar thing called the Creepy Morty. It was the first time I snorted kalaxian c-crystals and some crazy shit w-went down,” he said, chuckling a little. 

“Oh my god, that sounds like a lot of fun,” you said, opening up your biology book. Pulling out the notes you’d written during class. 

“Your writing is so nice,” he said, watching you bend down to get your pink pencil box. 

“Thank you, I feel like those were pretty sloppy,” you said, opening the plastic box and revealing a plethora of weed paraphernalia, “Will we get in trouble for smoking here?” you asked, licking the grape flavored wrap. 

“B-be my guest,” he said, laughing nervously, “Can you even r-roll with nails?” he asked. 

Instead of verbally responding, you just finished rolling. He pointed out how you made the mouthpiece slightly tighter than the rest of it. The fact that he noticed this small detail made you blush. Putting the blunt between your lips, gesturing from him to light it. His hand shook a little as he brought the flame to you. It was surprising to you, watching him take ghost inhales without coughing. The two of you began talking back and forth, just about life and whatever came to mind. Eventually the conversation began to shift, you asking if he had a girlfriend. 

“No, w-why would I invite you over if I did,” he laughed. 

“Oh so you invited me over for romantic reasons?” you asked, tilting your head up and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. 

“What? No Absolutely- I just…” he began slightly panicking. 

“No? Aww that’s too bad,” you said. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“I mean yeah, I think you’re really cool. I like you alot, I can’t deny that when you asked me to come over I was really excited,” you said, handing him the blunt. 

“Holy shit, honestly you don’t understand how good that is to hear,” he said. 

“Well now that we both can admit we never really intended on studying, maybe we can watch a movie on my laptop?” you asked.

He of course agreed, now laying on your stomachs. His twin size bed only made for your bodies to be pressed against each other. Watching a horror movie that he suggested. Already 15 minutes in, you were waiting for him to make a move. He was laying on his side, back facing the wall and his elbow was supporting his head . Rubbing your back but keeping a respectful distance from your ass. Eventually he started to wander down, making your back arch involuntarily. You could have sworn he chuckled, to be fair most of your focus was trying to act like it isn't affecting you. Going down past your skirt, his fingertips now against your skin. At first he was just feeling you up, squeezing and groping after a while. 

You were happy to be wearing makeup because your face was getting hot. He started to make things more intense, now rubbing the fabric of your panties. You had to bite back a gasp as he traced your slit with his fingers. He curls his leg around yours, spreading your thighs apart. Pulling your panties down and slightly, giving his hand room to spread your wetness around. Pushing his middle and ring finger into you. At first he maintained a slow place, giving you time to stretch around him. Starting to get more desperate, you arch and push yourself down onto his fingers. You were no longer regulating how loud you were being, letting pants and moans out without any shame. Morty noticed this and changed his position. Flipping you from your stomach to your back, pulling your shirt above your chest. He became animalistic once he saw your chest. 

Taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Sucking and flicking his tongue as he fucked his finger back into you. Becoming rougher, biting and nipping at your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, not pulling through. Just caressing him, your mind becoming more and more foggy with pleasure. Your legs were trembling and you could feel your orgasm approaching. So could he, prompting him to pull his fingers out and play with your clit. It wasn’t long until you were coming, squirting on his hand. This took him off guard but made him cum in his boxers. Spreading your juices to your chest and slapping your breasts. Splashing the liquid around until you were squirming and reddened. The two of you laid there for a while until you broke the silence. 

“Can I do you back?” you asked and he shook his head. 

“No I came in my pants,” he said so casually that you couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, started mimicking the way you were moaning. Making both of you giggle yourselves to sleep.

#rick and morty fanfiction #morty x reader #morty c137 x reader #rick and morty #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty smut #rick sanchez #morty c137 #rick and morty fanfic request #fanfic request #morty x you #evil morty imagine #evil morty x you #evil morty x reader

[cyberstrm]

rick sanchez as a boyfriend headcannons

18+, minors dni!!!! nsfw ahead

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

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

pet names like baby, bunny, sugar,,,

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

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

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

loves to smoke w u

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

loves when u wear his clothes, especially his labcoat

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

exclusively big spoon. only holds.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x y/n #rick and morty #imagine #rick c137 #rick c137 x reader #rick c137 x you #x reader #x you #x y/n #x gn reader

[pondhue]

i am sorry i took so long tumblr user @mycelial-morty... please accept this offering

based off of this post

#pondart #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick and morty fanart #rick sanchez fanart #rick c137 #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x y/n

[aliciamorov]

Rick Sanchez season 7 simping moment part I don't even know

This ep is crazay damn

I love this man god

This is so cute btw

LOOK AT HIM

Is this seat taken 🤭

LOOK AT HIS SMILE 😭😭

He's eepy

(the scene is hilarious 😭)

HE DID THE FACE 🥳

Overall the ep was weird as fuck but very cool

Thank you goodnight everyone 😘😘

#rick sanchez x male reader #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty spoilers #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick and morty season 7 #god i love him #sexy hot scientist grandpa #hot sexy alcoholic scientist #i love grandpas #this man is so perfect istg #I LOVE THIS SEASON #THIS SEASON IS SO GOOD IM IN LOVE #is this seat taken 🤭 #IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE #im going crazy #im climbing the walls rn

[christiecandor]

Smug Rick appreciation post 🩵

#i love smug rick so much 😍 #smug Rick #sexy sanchez #rick sanchez #rick and morty #rick and morty spoilers #season 7 #rick sanchez x reader #screenshots #that's amorte #s7e4 #morty smith #rickandmorty #rick fuckers #ricksexual

[audhd-author]

Sex Pollen

When Rick accidentally smashes a vial full of potent gas, both him and Y/N become uncomfortably aroused, explicit visions and thoughts plaguing their minds.

-----------------

2057 words.

NSFW (18+)

Rough sex, age gap, degradation, praise kink, dumbification if you squint, spanking, marking kink (scratches, biting, hickeys), light restraints, choking, face-fucking, blow job, hair-pulling, multiple orgasms, cream-pies, cunnilingus, fingering, spit play, nipple play.

-----------------

-----------------

The sound of a vial smashing echoes around the garage, your gaze flying towards the source of the noise. From your seat on Rick’s workbench, you see him knelt down hurriedly trying to cover the contents of the vial. “Oh shit.” He exclaims upon seeing the yellow gas beginning to seep through the stained cloth. Wafting through the air, the gas first surrounds Rick before incher closer and closer to your seat. “Rick, what is that?” You ask, your eyes flicking over to your partner who is now hunched over another portion of the workbench with his back to you. His white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench tightens as a muffled groan emits from his throat. 

Turning around, Rick walks over to you, moving your legs apart so he can stand in between them. His hands pull your hips forward, your heat pressed up against his pelvis as you let out a startled gasp. One hand reaches up to your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck as his other hand starts to roam your body, finding all the places he knows makes you weak. 

Your core burns with arousal, your breathing coming laboured as lust begins to consume your body. “Sex pollen.” Rick’s voice is strained as he finally speaks, turning to face you. The bulge in his pants is impossible to miss as he tries to suppress another groan of desire. The coil in your stomach tightens, unable to pull your eyes away as the tent in his pants continues to grow. You can feel your arousal begin to leak down the side of your thighs as you make eye contact with him. “Rick- I need you.” You breathe, trying to soothe the undying desire burning through your veins. 

The moment the words leave your mouth, Rick crosses the room, smashing his lips into you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your body flush with his. The two of you were often rough in the bedroom but now the urges in both of you were animalistic, carnal. The hunger for each other, overwhelming. A desperate moan escapes you as he tangles his hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side as his lips attach to your neck. His hips grind into your core, causing more arousal to leak down your thighs as your nails dig into the back of his shoulders. “Fuck, I need you.” Rick groans, his free hand reaching under your shirt to grasp your breasts. “So take me.” You whimper in response as he takes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A low growl emits from his throat upon hearing your words and within seconds, both of your shirts are thrown across the garage. 

His hands expertly unclasp your bra, his tongue licking up in between your breasts as it joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Sucking one nipple into his mouth, your back arches to him as his tongue runs over the hardened bud. His hands reach down to unbuckle your jeans as he switches his attention to your other nipple. Hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties, he pulls the remaining clothing from you. A strained groan escapes him as he sees the layer of arousal glistening down your inner thighs. “Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” He murmurs before dipping his head in between your legs. The tip of his tongue runs up your inner thigh, collecting your arousal. Moans and whimpers fall off your lips as your hands entangle in his hair. Slowly licking further towards your sensitive bud, your body jerks as he finally runs his tongue over it. “Oh- holy shit.” You gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, two fingers running over your entrance, teasing you. 

Your head flies back, a sinful moan escaping you as he suddenly sinks two digits knuckle deep inside you. The moment he curls his fingers to hit the spongy flesh inside you, you could swear you saw stars. His tongue continues its work on your clit, switching between sucking and licking as he begins to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you. Your grip on his hair tightens as he works you closer and closer to orgasm. Already so desperately aroused, it doesn’t take long before your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as you reach the edge of arrival. However, the wave of pleasure never comes, instead you’re left with an empty feeling as Rick stands up, his hands hurriedly working to undo his belt. Dropping his pants to the floor, your core tightens as he finally frees himself from his boxers, his tip leaking with pre-cum. His hands pull your ass to the edge of the bench, his member pressing at your entrance.

Your arousal allows him to slip inside you with ease and the moment he rubs against your sweet spot, your nails dig into his shoulders, a filthy moan escaping you. The pleasure flooding through your body is intense, every muscle in your body spasming as he stretches your walls around him. A deep groan escapes Rick as you clench around him, his dick twitching inside you before he pulls out, roughly slamming back into you. His pace is inhuman, his hands move your hips against him, forcing himself deeper into you with each thrust. “So fucking tight.” He groans as you wrap one hand around the back of his neck, the other grasping at the edge of the bench. Your breasts jiggle with each relentless thrust, pleasure flooding your veins as a string of moans falls from your lips. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth with his, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Both of you freely moan into each other’s mouth as your tongues intertwine, the coil in your stomach tightening with every buck of his hips. 

His nails dig into your hips as he gets closer to his arrival, low groans emitting from his throat. You could barely think straight and as the familiar wave of pleasure crashes over you, your head goes light as your body shakes uncontrollably. Rick’s name falls off your lips in a sinful scream as your nails scratch down his back. A guttural groan escapes him as your body clenches around him, his hips stalling in movement as he reaches his own arrival. Hot liquid coating your walls, his thrusts finally slow down as he draws out both of your highs, chests heaving with each breath. His hands move to rest on your inner thighs as he slowly pulls out of you, cum seeping out of your hole. Dipping his head in between your legs, your body jerks as he runs his tongue from your sensitive clit to your entrance. Slowly pushing his tongue inside you, he gathers his secretion on his tongue. Standing back up, his hand grabs the sides of your neck as he forces you to look up at him. “Open your mouth.” 

You were quick to follow his order, holding your tongue out as he spits the mixture of your arousals into your mouth. “Swallow.” Not breaking eye contact, you obey, opening your mouth again to show him. “Such a good slut for me, aren’t you?” He smirks, running the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. All you could do in response is nod, your mind unable to form any words, still recovering from your last orgasm. “On your knees.” He says, stepping back to give you space to get down from the bench. Your knees nearly give out on you, buckling as you stand, your hands gripping for the bench as you try to stabilise yourself. Rick’s hand entangles itself in your hair, pulling your head to face him. “Did you not hear me? Too fucked dumb to understand me, huh? On your fucking knees.” He growls, shoving you down onto your knees as he strokes his throbbing member with his free hand. His grip in your hair pulls you forward as your lips part around him. A low groan escapes him as you suck on his tip, your tongue flattening against him. 

Opening your throat, you slowly take the rest of him in. “Such a gorgeous little slut for me, aren’t you darling? Taking all of me down your throat.” He growls, his member twitching in your mouth. You hum in response which earns a low groan from him as his hips buck further into your throat. Slowly drawing himself out, he begins to fuck your mouth, drool beginning to leak from the corners of your mouth. His hand flies down to the back of your head when he hits the back of your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “Holy fuck.” He breathes, thrusting harder as you try to fight the urge to gag. Pulling your head back by your hair, he lifts you to your feet, quickly turning you around, your pelvis pressing against the countertop. “Bend over.” 

You’re quick to obey, placing your feet outside of his as your chest flattens against the cool metal bench. A harsh slap sounds throughout the room as his hand makes contact with your left asscheek then your right as you jump at the unexpected touch. Lining himself up with your entrance, he pushes himself in, emitting a soft moan from you. “You’re so fucking tight for me, fucking squeezing my cock.” He growls as he begins to slowly thrust into you. A sharp, hot sting spreads over your ass as his hand comes down against it again, causing a string of moans to escape you. You couldn’t manage a response more than that, the new position adding more depth than before as he stretches your walls around him. 

Running his hands down your sides, he pushes his chest flush against your back, his mouth attaching itself to the crook of your neck. Gently biting down, he runs his tongue over the indents as he begins to slowly increase the pace of his thrusts. His name falls off your lips in a breathy moan as he begins to suck the sensitive skin on your neck into his mouth, a purple hue spreading over your skin. “That’s it, keep moaning my name for me, remind yourself who you belong to.” He groans as his pace increases yet again. Lifting himself off your back, he grabs for your wrists and pulls them behind your back as he bottoms you out. 

Stars begin to cloud your vision as he thrusts up into your sweet spot, your legs beginning to shake. “Fuck, Rick.” You gasp as his hand snakes under your throat, lifting your back up to his chest. His other hand drops your wrists, wrapping around your body as he circles your clit with his index finger. Your head falls back on his shoulder as he continues to thrust up into you, rubbing up against the sensitive flesh inside you as he does. Trailing your hand down his body, your nails scratch along his thigh as he emits a low groan. Your breathing labours further as his teeth gently scrape along your earlobe, feeling another wave of pleasure about to come crashing upon you. 

Feeling you begin to squeeze further around him, his thrusts become sloppier, another orgasm approaching him. “Scream my name.” His voice deep with desire, you come undone at those three words. His name escapes you in a pleasured scream, light-headedness flooding your veins as your body writhes uncontrollably. You can feel yourself pulse around him, causing a shuddered groan to escape his lips as his warm secretion covers your walls. His thrusts begin to slow down as he pulls you closer to him, the both of you gasping for air as you come down from your highs. 

It’s at this point in time that you’re grateful for Rick supporting most of your weight, your legs struggling to bear weight without buckling. A weary smile pulls at your lips as you feel him peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders. His hands trail down to your hips, gently turning you around to face him before he lifts you back up onto the workbench. Grabbing his lab coat off the floor, he drapes it over your shoulders before pulling on his pants. “Interdimensional cable after I clean this up?” He murmurs, pressing his lips against yours as you nod. “Sounds amazing.”

-----------------

#rick sanchez x reader #rick c137 #rick sanchez smut #rick sanchez #rick and morty

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons. 

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think. 

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV. 

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball. 

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?" 

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails. 

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes. 

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room. 

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly. 

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft. 

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you. 

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video. 

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly. 

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder. 

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–" 

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts. 

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick. 

And that's the second thing: it works . He's  more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame. 

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then. 

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it. 

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo. 

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll. 

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask? 

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier. 

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one. 

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen. 

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives. 

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls. 

"Miguel,"  You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–" 

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate. 

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that. 

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure. 

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock. 

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials. 

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind. 

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?" 

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion. 

"...what does that even mean?" 

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day." 

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?" 

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting." 

"Seriously?" 

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused. 

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz. 

"Lyla? Could you let us up?" 

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back. 

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel. 

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–" 

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out. 

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–" 

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–" 

[Let it go, that's enough now–] 

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –" 

"Can you just fucking open the–" 

"What's the magic word?" 

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–" 

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please." 

"Please what?" 

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open. 

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed. 

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost. 

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer. 

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose. 

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room. 

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye. 

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug. 

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused. 

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–" 

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up. 

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how." 

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas. 

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said. 

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking." 

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding. 

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?" 

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally. 

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure. 

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back. 

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita." 

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl. 

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular. 

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around. 

"I don't sound- " 

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker] 

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have. 

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes. 

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food. 

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!" 

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-" 

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away. 

"Um, we should… we should go." 

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question. 

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?" 

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically. 

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations. 

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? " 

"That's not–" 

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working. 

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile. 

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours. 

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!" 

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair. 

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders. 

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit? 

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around. 

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood. 

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined. 

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate. 

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time. 

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated. 

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session. 

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist. 

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does. 

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to. 

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night. 

"Miguel?" 

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile. 

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?" 

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny? 

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–" 

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything. 

"Are you even listening to me?" 

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly. 

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? " 

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue. 

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed. 

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter. 

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you. 

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag. 

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut. 

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs. 

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused. 

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them. 

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his. 

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall . 

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –" 

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt. 

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?" 

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off. 

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff. 

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago. 

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips. 

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that. 

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care. 

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty. 

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours… 

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit. 

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest. 

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same. 

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another. 

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch. 

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest. 

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats. 

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed. 

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck. 

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut. 

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy. 

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–] 

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.  

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–" 

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–] 

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach. 

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt. 

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts. 

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans . 

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly. 

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits. 

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat, 

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears. 

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air. 

_

_

_

Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼 #rigor mortis 😼 #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #atsv fic