Rick Sanchez X Reader (Oneshots)

Rick X Cashier!Reader

NSFW
By:mr_bulldops_trash

___________________

Three more boring hours at the register. The grocery store's speakers are set on a pop music radio station, and they're currently playing the same fucking chart topper that I've already heard four times today. Sunday shifts in July are the absolute worst, because the whole place is so dead. All the regular customers are on holidays and no one is stepping a foot inside our little store when the sun is shining outside and parks are full of ice cream stands. So I'm stuck on the register, with only two other workers in the whole store, and I'm bored out of my mind with only a couple of customers every fifteen minutes or so. Two hours and fifty-seven minutes to go. Fuck.

There's a loud, echoing burp coming from the personal hygiene products section, and I feel a hint of curiousity. A drunk? He certainly looks like one, I think with the sharp-edged amusement of a long-time customer servant, as the man strolls towards my checkout. Tall, old, perpetually angry-looking guy with blueish crazy hair and a lab coat of all things - wait, I know who he is. He comes around every once in a while with some nervous-looking kid and usually buys kind of weird stuff, like five big jars of pickles or an entire shelf-full of batteries. The kid calls him Rick, I think.

Rick stops to glare at the cooler right by the checkout and I take the chance to have a good look at him. He is old - 50 or 60 at least, so practically a mummy from the perspective of a twentysomething - but he has a lively air about him. His movements are purposeful, his hands look strong, and despite the bald spot and wrinkly forehead, he doesn't look bad at all. Sort of handsome in a worn-down way, actually, like an ageing rock star. With the ego of one as well, I bet.

I quickly banish that particular train of thought when he slams the cooler door closed and walks to the register. "Hi there!" I chirp with my irritatingly positive customer service voice, and he looks up and gives me a quick once-over. I can almost feel his eyes on my skin. I could swear there's a hint of smile on his lips as he drops his items on the conveyor belt. My heart skips a beat.

Three packs of condoms and a can of Red Bull.

This fucking asshole. It's like he knew my thoughts, even though it's impossible. And now I'm fully imagining him using those condoms (Who buys three packs at once from a corner store? Does he have a private harem? Why do I feel jealous about it?), sinking inside a willing body in some dimly-lit bedroom. I blush against my will. And Rick, the motherfucker, he smirks when he sees it. "Hold up," he says, goes back to the cooler, grabs another can of energy drink and brings it to the belt as well. I don't even attempt to understand, I just swallow my embarrassment and scan his items.

As he's swiping his card, one of my coworkers stops by. "Hey, you wanna take your cig break now?"

"Yeah, sure." I definitely need it. "Here's your receipt, and have a nice day!" I say to Rick with my biggest fake smile on.

His fingers touch mine as he takes the receipt. "Oh, I'm definitely going to!" He winks at me. Jerk.

*

The alley behind the store is empty, just the trash cans stinking the place up in the sunlight. I light my cigarette and take a deep drag, closing my eyes. The warmth feels nice.

"Red Apples, huh? I would have-have thought you were a Marlboro kind of girl."

I almost drop the cancer stick. Barely ten feet away, holding the plastic bag with the store logo on it, Rick is standing there, looking at me and smiling. "What do you want?" I snap. The customer service rules don't apply when I'm on a break and some old pervert has followed me to a back alley.