Rick Sanchez X Reader (Oneshots)

Dancing With The Devil (EvilRick x Reader)

|NSFW|
By:sixxxteentons

Warnings = Knifeplay, Bloodplay, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Slurs, Dominance, D/s

_________

This was the day. Weeks of preparation had gone into this, and if your life had been a movie, it would have made one Hell of a training montage. Rick, or as you should probably get used to thinking of him, Rick C-137 had meticulously, if not always coherently, instructed you on what he knew about his competitor, the layout of the fabled evil lair, what your tells were when you lied and, somewhat suspiciously, exactly how you should suck dick. It had been a... struggle not to let the latter kind of lesson take over the schedule completely.
But this was the moment. You were perched on a stool at the edge of the bar counter in Evil Rick's favourite haunt, and Rick had texted you the code that said that the prey was about to enter the trap.
Truthfully, you weren't entirely sure how worried you ought to be about this little operation. Sure, Rick was obviously involved in some pretty heavy shit, but most of it seemed so outlandish and implausible, and the man was so paranoid that it was hard to take it all completely seriously. And this was supposedly your Rick's... evil self? C-137 seemed plenty evil all on his own. How much worse could this one really be?

You noticed the change in atmosphere before you noticed the man himself. The publican made a gesture of superstition and quickly reached their tentacles up to retrieve the vials, jars and bottles from the top shelf and hide them under the counter. One of the servers made a high pitched gurgle and ran for the staff room, throwing their apron onto the floor as they went. You could have sworn you saw the lights actually flickering. What in God's name could warrant that kind of reaction?
You turned in your seat to see for yourself and the apparition in the doorway, who'd apparently paused there for dramatic effect, was much more unnerving than you'd pictured. It looked... well, obviously it looked like Rick - was Rick - separated physically only by the scar across his lips and the dark around his eyes.
But this man moved differently, carried himself differently, had another layer of suspicion and barely suppressed contempt on his skeletal features that made it seem less like a different side of the same person and more like some other soul had commandeered Rick's body. It was uncanny to see the same face twisted into so different a scowl.

All of this registered with you in a matter of seconds and it required even less time to realise that boy oh boy, you were in deep over your head here.
And of course, just as you felt your heart begin to flutter and your hands begin to sweat, his eyes met yours. After all, you were the only other human in view and you had picked this seat on purpose. It was impossible to read his expression - was he surprised? Intrigued? Irritated? His look could mean anything.
Rick sauntered over to the bar, slid onto a stool close enough to be within earshot but still just barely out of reach and nodded to the bartender. He was obviously enough of a regular not to have to say out loud what he wanted, he just drummed his fingers impatiently on the sticky counter and waited. Everything you'd prepared to catch his interest in the very likely scenario that he didn't approach first had slipped your mind.
You wanted to run, phone your Rick asking for backup, blurt out your reason for being here and get whatever punishment he wanted to dish out over and done with. But if you were going to haul ass out of here, you'd still have to wait until it wasn't quite so obvious why you'd done it. So you stared blankly into the mirror behind the bar, took out a packet of cigarettes from your handbag and fumbled around in the pockets of your jacket for your lighter.

A flame appeared in front of your face and you started and leaned out. Rick had somehow manifested right beside you, close enough that you could smell him, and he held a lighter in his outstretched hand.
"Allow me."
You angled your head, placed the cigarette between your painted lips and took a long drag with the end shaking in and out of the flame.
"Thank you," you managed and the expression you saw on his face when you dared to look over was no longer a mystery. Rick looked you up and down with unashamed and predatory interest and he raised his eyebrow.
"You know, th-there's a lot of things I like about this bar, but, uh... hot blondes hasn't really been one of them up until this point..."
Now, it was important to note that you were not shy by any means. Nor did you have any hangups about the fact that you liked powerful and intimidating men.
But there was "knows what he's got and isn't afraid to use it"-powerful, and then there was "wouldn't trust him with a butter knife"-intimidating. This, you felt with every nerve in your body and every hair standing on edge along your spine, was definitely the latter kind. And that would have been obvious to anyone even without the villainous prefix.
So when you spoke again, you knew you were blushing and that there was a slight tremble in your voice. "You don't waste time, do you?"
"Hey," Rick replied with a grin from ear to ear at your bashful reaction. "I'm a bu-uuurgh-sy man. And that-that garter belt says you're not all that different..."
It couldn't be helped - you looked down quickly to make sure the hem of your dress hadn't rode up to your waist.
No, you were safe. He'd just been looking very, very closely. Well, two could play at that game, and now that he was being comparatively nice your attraction was winning out over your fear by about a mile.
"What is it they say? Fortune favours the prepared?"
Rick's glass of whiskey was slid across the counter and he grabbed it, savoured the smell and took a sip. "Is that so. So if-if you're feeling... uh, prepared, then why would you head to a place like this? Earth men not good enough for you?"
Damn. You'd skipped the plausible excuses and headed straight into sex talk. Well, here goes nothing - you'd just have to hope he didn't prefer shy violets. "What, can't a girl experiment?"
Rick very slowly turned his head and stared at you, long and blank. You shrugged in response and made a sheepish laugh. He grinned as well, shook his head and said "wow. A-alright, you win. I've got... yeah. I've got no reply smooth enough for that." He clinked his glass to yours, knocked back the whiskey and made himself comfortable on the stool just beside you.