(NSFW)
By:Keepitschwifty
•—•—•—•—•—•
Bands that play before the Flesh Curtains are always sort of... lackluster. You have a feeling that the headliners do this on purpose, looking to play up how good they are in comparison, like it's a big, mean inside joke. But they aren't wrong.
You shift nervously as one of the other bands on the bill plays.
The occasional wave through the crowd crushes you against the stage, close enough to reach out and stroke the guitar player's shoe.
Near you is a small hallway leading backstage. People filter through and you squish forward to make room for them - band members, technicians, roadies. Friends.
You glance back there a few times throughout the act. You're really only here for the Flesh Curtains, having seen them several times over the past few years. You love them enough that it's worth the shitty openers, the overpriced admission, the cramped venues.
Shortly after the next band starts their set, you turn and do a double-take. Rick Sanchez stares back, smirking at your reaction, nursing a drink in a cheap plastic tumbler. He stands in the little hallway, bathed in dim lighting. When he beckons to you, there isn't an ounce of hesitation; you go to right to him. When will you ever get this chance again?
He wraps a long arm around your shoulder and pulls you into the back, where the sound is a little more muffled. He ducks you into a small room with some chairs and a coffee table and collapses into a worn loveseat. You sit nervously beside him, unsure of what to do with your hands, your mouth. He makes idle chat with you, clearly amused by your nerves.
"Been to th-the last few shows? Big fan," he muses.
"Kind of a groupie, huh?"
He smiles easily, eyes unreadable. He slides his hand up your thigh and leans forward.
"You wanna show me how big a - a fan you are, baby?"
You allow him to pull you into his lap, running your shaking fingers through his hair as he presses an open-mouthed kiss underneath the shelf of your jaw. It's easy to melt into him. You've pictured this hundreds of times, exactly this scenario, and you're much shakier in real life. He grinds his hips slowly while he pushes his hands up underneath your clothes, skimming your heated skin and seeking the underwire of your bra.
You're so aroused that it's embarrassing. But all of his moves are practiced and sure and you realize he's probably fucked countless people like this, soothing through their nerves to find a way inside. The band onstage finish their set to bored applause as Rick pulls at your clothes, bared to him with your pants unzipped in seconds. A man walks into the room as Rick nibbles the upper swell of your breast, and he grabs your wrists before you can cover up.
"Get th-the fuck out. I'm busy."
The man pauses and points vaguely to the corner of the room.
"Oh, sorry, um? I just need -"
Rick transfers your wrists to one hand, twists his fingers into your hair and yanks you back, arching your throat and spine, so that you're displayed for the stranger.
"You wanna help me fuck this girl?"
His eyes dart to your breasts and move away, an awkward and apologetic dance as he stumbles over his response.
"What?! No! I mean, I - I mean -"
Rick chucks an empty bottle at him and it splinters the doorframe.
"OUT."
Once the door slams shut, Rick's focus is entirely on you, your body, releasing your wrists to stroke and squeeze.
YOU ARE READING
Rick Sanchez X Reader (Oneshots)
FanfictionYou read the title! The stories posted here aren't mine, I found them on tumblr or other websites. I'll write their usernames and you guys can check em out! The poster isn't mine, its riankoworks on tumblr. Check em out as well. Also NSFW means Lem...
