#our rick

When December started, Rick would usually start complaining, and when you tried out several techniques to get him into the Christmas spirit, like singing carols whilst cooking (much to his annoyance), he would usually say that the only spirit he could get into was that of vodka and then, with a shit-eating grin, he would hold out his little metal flask, a look of triumph on his face, before taking a sip.

“Rick,” you sighed, standing in front of him and pressing your hands into his chest, “It’s Christmas. We’re going to your family’s house on the 25th, aren’t you just a little excited?” 

“Chri-christmas is a wa-waste of time, might as well just have a pain-in-my-ass family dinner and bring a present,” he scoffed down at you, looking almost bored at the topic that usually had people on the edge of their seats in excitement, “Some guy walked on water and now people want to sh-share gifts to celebrate him? Don’t they know that they stole the whole concept from the Germanic peoples in Europe?”

“It brings people together, Rick,” you replied, hands sliding up to cup the back of his neck. You slide your fingers into the hair there, earning you a tiny smile from Rick. 

“So do funerals,” the answer made your smile fade and you sighed, rubbing his shoulders again, but Rick’s expression didn’t change a bit. 

“But it is about being with your family in a happy way and there’s also the joy of giving,” you tried again, pulling gently at the lapels of his lab coat. You pulled him down towards your mouth, but he hovered just above your lips. He was drunk; his breath smelled like alcohol and it made you crinkle your nose. 

“Y-you love the joy of receiving more,” he snorted and you let go off him with an annoyed sound and a roll of your eyes. Of course, he would turn a talk about Christmas into an innuendo. He let out a dry laugh at your face, “Sorry, baby, but the Christmas spirit is non-existent in me. I-I-I plan on being in the garage while we’re there, rather than listening to Jerry painfully trying to remember the words to s-several Christmas songs sung by Sinatra.” 

“Is that a challenge? Getting you into the Christmas spirit?” You winked at him, taking a few steps back to look at him properly. He seemed genuinely surprised that you hadn’t backed down already; apparently, he was not used to a person crossing him.

“Try me,” Rick simply replied, fishing out his flask, “You’ve already attempted at persuading with tedious stuff.”

“Are there any rules?” You put on a sly smile, tilting your head.

“There are never any rules,” Rick took a disgustingly large gulp of alcohol. He looked arrogant as he looked down at your face, too sure of himself to even think that you wouldn’t play dirty. Oh, how wrong he was.

*

The day at the Smith’s house passed just as Rick had said it would; him in the garage and the rest of you in the kitchen, snacking on the food whilst Jerry complained about maybe ending up not having enough for the actual meal if you continued, but as much as he was annoyed, he still hummed along to the radio.

Rick sat down at the table to eat, only to leave again immediately after. Even Beth couldn’t convince him to stay, and later, you saw her giving you a slight look of pity as you were unwrapping presents, “Sorry about him. I sometimes don’t know how you can stand him.”

“This? You know how he is, rambling on and on about the capitalist system making Christmas into a highly commercialised holiday, Beth,” you laughed, “I made a bet with him though, so we’ll see if I can manage to get him into Christmas spirit.”

“Rick? Christmas spirit? Right...” Jerry scoffed in the background. You turned to him, holding in a laugh as you laid eyes on the ridiculously ugly Christmas sweater you had given him.

“I have my ways,” you smirked, sending him a wink and Summer looked horrified as if she saw right through you. 

“Oh my God, gross,” she mumbled, getting out her phone to hide behind it. You just laughed again.

“Oh God, get the image out of my head,” Jerry cried and Morty soon caught up on what you had been implying.

“That’s gross!” Morty followed along, Summer snickering at her brother’s disgust.

“So that is why there’s no present from you under the tree for him,” Beth pointed out.    

*

The two of you (mostly Rick) had agreed on going home for the night. The car ride had been pleasantly silent, your head resting from the constant attention you had to give to the Smiths. Though Rick was silent too, he was silent in another kind of way, as if he was waiting - you figured that despite Rick having made such an effort to tell you how much he despised the holidays, he still danced around you after realising that he had yet to have gotten a present from you. What he did not know, was that you were his present. 

After you both came home, Rick immediately stripped to his boxers and went to bed. You kissed him whilst mumbling that you would be right there with him soon.

Now, you were finishing up in the bathroom and Rick was unaware of what you were doing. Never in your life have you ever had such trouble putting on lingerie; especially since lingerie made you feel embarrassingly unsexy to begin with. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and after what had seemed like an endless battle, some part of you laughed at the fact that it would take a moment, well, maybe a few moments at the most, before it was off again. The set was christmassy; a big bow covering your breasts and after trying three different approaches, you had managed to make it cover you up nicely and leave something to the imagination - at least until you pulled the bow and it unraveled.

I should have practised this beforehand, you thought to yourself as you walked awkwardly down the hallway and the walk to your bedroom seemed eternal. Whoever thought it was a good idea to make sexy christmas outfits clearly did not care about comfort at all because things were definitely going up places they shouldn’t and when you finally stood in front of the door, you had to reach down and pull a piece of silk ribbon into place. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and Rick, who seemed to direct his attention at you to say something, only opened his mouth to shut it again. He was speechless and you grew nervous; the pose you had tried to strike faltering a bit, “Rick…”

The surprise on his face was there for several seconds, and you could have sworn that in the dimly lit room, you could see a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. Finally, he started to crawl across the mattress to sit on the edge of the bed, and whilst his eyes went over your scandalous outfit, you felt beyond relieved that he had not laughed at you. 

“Hoe, hoe, hoe, aren’t I lucky?” Rick whistled at you and you could only start giggling, taking a few steps as he beckoned you with his finger, “I-is this my present?”

“What does it look like?” You walked over to him as close as possible and by instinct, he reached out to place his hands on your hips.

“Can I unwrap you?” Rick asked, his hands running up your body to brush his fingers over the red silk of the bow “Now?” 

You pondered the question for a moment but then gained a boost of confidence; you did look sexy after all. It made you push him down onto his back and straddled his hips, and before he could protest, you leaned down to whisper at him, “Unwrap me? That’s not how we do it here, I want you to rip it off of me, Rick.” Fuck if your skimpy little outfit was torn, you had already agreed with yourself that you would not wear it ever again. In fact, you wouldn’t mind seeing Rick tear it to pieces before he fucked you senseless; that was how much you hated it. 

“Rip it, baby,” you cooed when his hands came up to bunch themselves up in the fabric. He looked hesitant for a few seconds but then pulled the outfit apart, the noises sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh my,” Rick smirked as his eyes traveled down your now fully-exposed body, “Just what I wished for, h-h-how did you know?”

“I know you like the back of my hand, baby,” you removed the remaining pieces of fabric, throwing them onto the floor before leaning down over him to brush your lips against his. It was not exactly a kiss, but it also was not, not a kiss, “Now tell me, what does my baby want for Christmas? I could suck your big cock? Let you fuck me on all fours - sit on your dick, ride you? You’re free to choose.”

“Fuck,” Rick groaned beneath you, trying to arch his back so he could meet your mouth with his own, but you pulled back as he got closer.

“Choose,” your voice was smug as you knew that when he had blood running to his dick, he could barely think, let alone make a choice, “I know what I want but this is about you…”

He seemed to pull together all the brainpower he could muster, and if it had been you, he would’ve sent you a remark on how he could practically hear the cogs turn in your head. Don’t strain yourself, he’d say.

Suddenly, he managed to manoeuvre you onto your back from where you had been on top of him. Finally.

“There we go,” you cooed up at him as he knelt in front of you. You let your legs fall open to make yourself irresistible, reaching down between them to spread yourself open with two fingers. You could feel your heartbeat in your pussy, sensing a tingle as you grew wet from him starting to come closer, “S- what is it gonna be?” 

“I’m still deciding,” he mused, crawling to position himself between your legs. He shooed your hands away, cupping your whole cunt in the palm of his hand. It made you want to grind against it, but he was too busy inserting two fingers into you and twisting his wrist so he could press them upwards against your g-spot. 

“Decide- oh, decide faster,” you shivered, eyes fluttering closed to focus on the two digits slowly making their way in and out of you. 

“I thought this was for me,” he teased, reaching up with his thumb to rub your clit in small circles. You felt yourself get more and more aroused, his fingers in your cunt starting to make an obscene wet sound.

“This isn’t exactly doing anything for you,” you arched your back as he pressed his fingers upwards again, “I think you’ve misunderstood… I’m yours tonight. You can do whatever you want.”

“Fine, y-you want it like that? If you wanted to be treated like a little toy you got me for Christmas, you should’ve just said so, baby,” Rick pulled his fingers out of you again, leaving you empty without as much as a warning. His change of character was exciting, a little frightening even, as you weren’t sure what was next. It had you incredibly wet.

With a pleased grunt at the gasp you let out, he grabbed your hip to flip you onto your stomach. Fuck yes. 

He spent little to no time making sure you were comfortable, keeping up his promise that you were not the centre of attention right now, but merely just an item that he could get off on; a pretty little thing to stick his cock in. It meant that you felt his big cock slide inside of you in the next moments, causing you to gasp and curl the sheets between your fingers. 

“Fuck,” you swore with gritted teeth and Rick simply chuckled behind you, moving slightly on the bed and you could feel every jerk of his body inside of you. 

You slowly felt his weight on top of you, reaching back to cup the back of his neck to get him as close as possible. He let himself be pulled down, moving your hair out of the way and pressing a lazy kiss to the back of your neck. 

He then started fucking you, showing no intention to take it slowly and build up the tension smoothly. He was rough with you instead, crashing his hips against your behind and sending you nearly flying forward from underneath him. 

You quickly learned you had to hold on for dear life if you didn’t want to tumble onto the floor at some point. Though the whole ordeal made it impossible to find the power to do anything but cry out - the feeling of his thick cock inside of you overpowering every other point of interest right now. It burned too deliciously

“Rick!” You chose to call out his name to stroke his ego, then added a bit extra as soon as your head wasn’t swimming from a particularly hard thrust, “It’s- ah, it’s so good, baby. No one fucks me like this.”

It resulted in you feeling a hand come up to fist itself in your hair as soon as you had finished the sentence. He had liked that then, and you suddenly felt his damp breath against your ear. He tugged harder at the tufts between his fingers and made it clear that he wasn’t doing it to be playful. Had you said something?

“You make it sound like there’s m-m-ore guys than me,” he half growled and half moaned. There it was: Jealousy over nothing. Usually you would’ve told him off, but right now it was sexy… The possessiveness that was triggered by a meaningless attempt at dirty talk. You wished you could see his face; the sweat dripping from his brow as his hips ground into you, his intense eyes and utter disgust at the idea of you being with someone else, followed by the need to remind you who did it best.

“Even if there was, I’d come crawling back for your cock,” you chuckled breathlessly, struggling to get through your sentence as you felt your cunt clenching around him, “No one compares. No one can make me come like I’m about to quite like you.”

He swore as he sped up, wanting to come as much as you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a wanton tone to your voice. You could feel your orgasm building, your toes curling and above you, Rick’s breathing was laboured and only getting more frantic. 

“I’m gonna come,” he announced. You reached up to grab at the back of his neck like before, pushing your behind against him so he could go deeper. He hit the perfect spot.

“You better fucking come in me,” you demanded, seeing stars, “Shit… There, oh my God, there!”

Your words turned into incomprehensible babble as the first contraction of your orgasm washed over you like a wave. You clenched around him rhythmically, coaxing his orgasm to time with yours. 

It worked. You heard your name being yelled in the next moment and felt a hot gush inside of yourself with Rick coating your walls with his come. He might have said that what the two of you had just done had only been for him, but he stayed inside of you - knowing you loved the intimacy - for as long as he could muster until he softened and slipped out.

“Mhm… That was lovely,” you murmured when he rolled off of you. He chuckled in response, reaching for the box of tissues that was strategically placed on his night stand and handed a bunch of them to you.

You turned onto your back and wiped yourself down as well as you could before getting out of bed to clean yourself in the bathroom. You spotted the torn fabric on the floor, deciding to get rid of it tomorrow.

When you finally crawled into bed again, Rick was already under the covers and on his side. He was waiting for you, and much to his delight, you scooted as close to him as possible.

He kissed you on the lips, “Merry Christmas.”

“Wait…” Your face turned smug, “What did you just say?”

“You h-e-eard me, and I am not repeating it.”

“You do know that you’ll never hear the end of it, right?” You felt giddy, pulling the covers over yourself as well.

“Goodnight,” he grumbled.

“Don’t you mean Christmas-night?” You teased.

You’re A Softie, Rick Sanchez

A night in was rare between Rick and you since Rick was the kind of man, who could only sit still if he was dealing with a hangover. Though this time, for some reason he didn’t even know himself, he had given in and decided that the two of you should just stay home on this particular evening.  

Rick watched you as you sat in the armchair, your favourite piece of furniture in your whole apartment, and read some boring crime novel. He disliked those sorts of things, finding it a bit too predictable and normcore but mostly because it made him think back to that one time where he carelessly told you who the killer was and had to sleep on the couch for a few days.

You were passionate about your books and that was the day he had found out. It was a long time ago by now but Rick still remembered it like yesterday, finding that a person who could tell him off was a person, he’d like to be with. Though you were feisty, you were so much more than that. When Rick looked at you the world stopped its orbit around the sun and only orbited around you; your smile, your eyes, your laugh and everything that you were. He could hide it the best he could but sometimes it came out during the most unusual moments, especially when you were doing something tediously normal, grocery shopping for example, or, like now, sitting in your living room with the soft buzz of the TV and the noise of you turning pages.

But the TV wasn’t getting any of Rick’s attention because he could not stop the sappiness taking over, a thing that sent an uncomfortable shiver up his spine. Why the hell was he getting emotional over you right now? Surely, his brain didn’t have to tell him that he cared about you? He knew he did! He knew that he was enjoying your company, your beauty, your kindness and that despite his arrogant attitude towards almost everything, he felt like he barely deserved you; you were warm and soft, everything that he was not.

Dared he even say that he lov- liked the way you made him feel about himself? It was hard to admit but any word you said could make Rick hate himself a little less, a thing that no one had ever had the ability to do, and it was a goddamn relief for him to be around you.

Rick groaned silently, looking up at the ceiling briefly as was he screaming to the heavens. Thank God that this was going on inside his head. He couldn’t let you know, couldn’t let anyone know, because it would mean that the fucking reputation he had would crumble to pieces, and he’d end up getting seen as a softie and when one needed to steal Githaronium from other galaxies to make a weapon that could dissolve any body into water particles, one should not be seen as a sof-  

“What are you looking at?” You asked as you noticed him staring, sending him a soft grin that made him lose his train of thought.

“You, d-dummy,” he blurted out.

“Yeah, no shit” you rolled your eyes but laughed, closing your book and putting it in your lap, “What are you thinking about then?”

“Well… You,” Rick smirked, shrugging, “And that you s-should put that book down and get over here. You’re boring ri-right now.”

You chuckled but put the book on the armrest, getting up to drop down into his arms. If Rick did not want to say the truth, you wouldn’t force him. The twinkle in his eye was giving him away though, and by now you were quite certain that Rick did not even know how much he gave himself away, always trying to be the smart and tough, “We could watch a movie.”

“None of those shitty c-chick-flicks,” he replied, nose in your hair. The first month that you had been with Rick, you had gotten away with always choosing the movies when you finally spent some time together without going on wild adventures or dealing with weird experiments. Rick despised them but it was a way of getting to be close to you and Rick found that for once that was actually okay.

“Fine, we’ll watch Ball Fondlers then,” you grabbed the remote from the table, turning in his lap and poking at his chest, “As long as you shut up about the plot. I’ll kill you, Mr.”

More Than Just A Dance

When it was Spring, it was a tradition for you to turn your place upside down for a Spring cleaning and though it was hard work, you knew that the smell of a clean apartment and the feeling of freshness was worth it in the end. Rick, on the other hand, had gotten out his portal gun and nearly left at the very moment you had mentioned your plan of getting out your cleaning detergents. He had rambled on about something close to just saying “I would love to help but I just don’t want to.”

After you had pouted and given him the silent treatment for fifteen minutes straight, he had eventually agreed to bring back lunch from your favourite burger place but only if he could get out of having to clean an apartment where he did not live and a place that wasn’t even his. You had decided not to argue over the fact that he came and went as he pleased, used your kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, because you were in a freaking relationship, knowing that if you took up the subject, you would have a man-child of a boyfriend, who threw a tantrum at not being right.

Additionally, Rick having left also meant that you had to remove all your furniture, and stack them on top of each other to gain enough space for you to mop the floor, all by yourself. It was exhausting, making you sweat more than you had imagined and also making you regret not having gone to the gym more than that one time after you had ordered a membership. Cursing yourself for your lack of motivation to keep up with your New Year’s resolution, you leaned against your wall to desperately try to go from panting to regaining your normal breathing. If you only been in better shape, you wouldn’t have felt like you were on the verge of going into cardiac arrest.

After a few moments of returning to your normal self, you went to fill a bucket with soapy water for your wooden floor, also getting a mop from the back of the closet in your washing room and grimacing at how dusty it was as you washed it in the sink before use.

The first swipes across the floor felt wrong and so did the next. This was too boring, a lot more boring than you remembered it to be or maybe you were just more used to having fun after Rick had become part of your life. Nevertheless, you decided to plug your phone into your docking station and play some music, putting it on shuffle so the excitement was in the surprise of what came on next.

You went through a series cheesy pop songs that you felt slightly ashamed for knowing all the lyrics to but luckily it made your chore of mopping the floor much easier to do and time went by extremely fast with music in the background. Sometimes your favourite songs came on and you felt yourself unable to resist singing loudly and swinging your hips to the beat. Soon you were so into the songs that came over the speakers, singing and moving your hips, that you didn't hear the sound of a portal opening in your living room.

Instead, you continued swaying your hips and singing along to some 2000s hit that you had forgotten but was now reliving without noticing Rick staring at you with his eyes fixated on your moving pelvis. He put down the paper bags from the burger place and walked up behind you, grabbing at your hips and making you throw the mop in surprise as you shrieked.

“Rick!” You exclaimed when you finally realised it was him, trying to whip around so you could look at him. Rick held you in place.

“No no, please continue,” he said softly but you knew it was a command, “Y-you looked so fucking delicious shaking your ass l-l-like that. Can I have some more?”

“I’m cleaning,” you tried but still circled your hips.

“I don’t care,” Rick replied, hands moving down your sides to grab at your ass. It was typical, all he had to do was get a little handsy and you would bend over almost automatically but when Rick saw what you were doing he tutted, “I s-said I wanted a dance. You can have cock l-later.”

“But all my furniture is in my bedroom,” you whined. Of course, the bastard wanted a lap dance when there was nowhere for him to sit.

“Go g-geeet a chair for me then, off you go,” Rick slapped your ass as you went past him, causing you to scowl at him over your shoulder.

You came back with one of your dining chairs, placing it in the middle of the room, “Sit.”

Surprisingly, Rick did as he was told and plopped down into the wooden chair, letting his arms hang down the sides as he watched you fiddle with your playlist.

Soon, a smooth beat from an R&B song filled the room and you took a deep breath. This was something you had done before but certainly not in this attire; you were in casual clothes consisting of sweatpants and a buttoned up flannel, topping the outfit off with sweaty hair in a messy bun.

Rick didn’t seem to care at all. In fact, you were certain you could hear him gasp despite the music when you started dancing towards him, swinging your hips to the beat and letting your fingers delicately unbutton the top of your shirt whilst holding his gaze in an intense stare.

You spun around cheekily, looking back over your shoulder to gain eye contact before you started wiggling your ass in a teasing manner, knowing you had won when Rick’s gaze dropped to stare. When he was too busy following every shake of your behind, you unbuttoned the rest of your shirt and turned to face him again, slowly shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it pool around you on the floor.

Then you approached him with a grin, winking at him as you ran your hand over his collarbones. You circled his chair, hand travelling over his body, over his shoulder to his back, before sliding up the back of his neck. Rick shivered under your touch, shifting in his seat to keep it cool but his facade crumbled as you slid your fingers into the sensitive hair at the back of his head, tugging it backwards so you could gain eye contact.

The moan that escaped his lips was almost pornographic and though it sounded exaggerated, you knew it wasn’t. He huffed as you let go again, repeating what you had just done but only circling back around the chair to face him again.

“You’re not usually this quiet,” you pointed out as you crouched down in front of him, running your hands up his shins and along his thighs only to push his legs apart.

“Y-you’re not usually this fasci- enticing,” Rick murmured in reply, too busy glancing at your breasts that were squeezed together by the bra you were wearing. You felt so powerful in this position, able to make him fully hard by barely touching him and he let out a shaky breath as soon as you slowly slid up between his spread legs with your face mere inches from his strained, clothed cock.

“Shut up,” you said, hands resting on the arms of the chair as you leaned over him. Rick put his hands on your hips, squeezing till his bony fingers dug into your skin. Quickly, you batted his hands away, “No touching, you know the rules when I dance.”

“Ru-rules are meant to be broken,” Rick argued but let his hands fall to his sides once more as you stepped away from him again. You reached up to pull your hair out of its bun, fingers running through it afterwards and the way Rick’s hands clenched into fists only showed how needy he was; your hair was his territory as he loved yanking it, pulling and tugging till you cried out during sex.

“Don’t sound so cliché,” you said with a flirtatious smile, hands sliding down from your hair to your neck and down your chest. You eventually reached the hem of your sweatpants, untying them slowly before turning your back to him, swaying to the music as you slid them down your legs slowly by shaking your hips.

Finally being in your underwear only, you reached behind your back to undo your bra, sliding it down your shoulders till it landed at your feet. You were still standing with your back to Rick, who had started tapping his foot in impatience, “Sweetheart, I-I-I only came home to have lunch and a fuck. You’re making it e-extremely difficult for me here.”

You dropped to your knees and started crawling towards him, taking mercy on him as you watched the desperate look upon his face and then the outline of his extremely hard cock when you finally reached him. You eventually took it an extra mile by getting up and straddling his lap before leaning in to blow into his ear, “You want more, baby?”

Rick looked up at you as you pulled back slightly, the look in his eyes telling you that he was on the verge of a groan and a whimper. He was too proud to say anything, that much you knew and just growled whilst he grabbed your sides.

“No touching,” you had to swat his hands away several times before you could start pushing his lab coat off his shoulders. When it hung on the chair around his waist, you gently ran your fingers up underneath his shirt, skimming over his nipples before dragging your nails down his chest again.

“Ow, fuck you,” he groaned, pushing his hips upwards to meet yours and for the first time, you allowed him.

“Poor baby,” you said with a mocking pout, adjusting your hips so you sat down over his groin, “Want me to make it better? Want me to make you come?”

“Jesus, you do know how to take a hint, d-don’t you?” Rick said sarcastically, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me ruin my- come in my pants, aren’t you, slut?”

“Exactly,” you giggled teasingly, nestling your knees between the arms of the chair before leaning all the way back to show off your breasts and your flexibility; something that Rick loved about you in bed. Finally, as you straightened again, you rocked forwards against him and he let out a groan.

“Still no touching?” Rick sounded snappy, breathing heavily as your clothed crotches slid against each other. You had set a nice rhythm, slowly speeding up and building up your climaxes.

“I’ll make an exception,” you said, arms linked around his neck as you ground against him, finding that the seam of his jeans was the perfect pressure for you clit, “But you have to do it now.”

Rick’s hands flew to your shoulders, running over your breasts to your sides and all the way down to your ass. He squeezed roughly, pulling you against him and forcing you to move faster, “Fuuuuck.”

“I know,” you moaned, leaning your head on his shoulder, “You’re amazing, baby.”

You were like goddamn teenagers and you thought back to those high school years with your first boyfriend as you bucked your hips, tightening your grip on him. There was nothing as hot and intimate as this, and sometimes you even liked it better than actual sex. So when another wave of pleasure washed over you, you groaned and pushed firmer against him to chase your climax.

Rick’s hand ran up to cup your breast, thumb running over your nipple until he pinched it between two fingers and made you gasp as well as whine. You could hear how close he was, his breathing ragged and his ability to thrust up against you failing.

It took one, two, three, four more thrusts and then Rick came, shamelessly and loudly, in his pants and the look upon his face was enough for you to snake a hand down between the two of you to rub your clit fast with a high-pitched moan.

You came seconds later, Rick pulling you against himself to kiss you, nearly making you double over and tip over the chair. You lost yourself in the moment, soaking your underwear and no longer being able to hear the music as you rode out your high whilst moaning into Rick’s mouth.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, chest to chest and lazily kissing. The food was forgotten and the thought about having to go back to cleaning was awful but still, you tried to remind yourself that the end result was worth it. It was not helping much though, every time you tried to get up, your body told you no, making you groan into Rick’s shoulder.

“Get uuu-up, I gotta go home and change. I-I have come in my fucking boxers.”

With a pout, you reluctantly got off of his lap and awkwardly picked up your clothes from the clean floor. You turned to him again, “Well, do you have to leave? You have spare clothes in my room, you basically live here.”

“You’re right,” he said, getting up and waddling towards your bedroom. With a grin, you followed.

“Gotcha!” You giggled.

“W-what?” Rick spun around.

“You said yes to basically living here.”

“Yeah? So?” He raised his brow at you, and it was funny how the cleverest man you knew still did not get it.

“Well, you said you didn’t want to clean a place where you did not live,” you winked at him and his face turned bitter.

“Oh, fuck off.”