creekcoffee

[creekcoffee]

It ain’t me (Rick sanchez/Fem!reader)

chapter 3

read chapter 2 here

Ricks POV

I watched her as she walked away. It was as if she was running away from me. Morty is yapping about something that I don't really care to tune in for, I just keep thinking about everything that's happening with me and y/n.

Me and Morty enter my garage and I just sit at my desk hunched over with my head in my hands lightly scratching my scalp. I'm exhausted.

“Jeez rick what is even happening with you, you seemed pretty messed up a month ago and all you said was that she's gone”

“Fuck Morty why did u come out to the car, I could’ve had her back and you came out and fucked it up.” I say exasperated as I clench my teeth and start pulling at my thin hair.

“Rick I just wanted to see if you're okay and make sure she didn't bring back your fucking corpse. Stop treating me like I'm not allowed to worry about you!" Morty exclaims on the verge of tears.

This took me by surprise. I've never seen Morty this angry and bold enough to say something like this. He storms out after hearing no response from me. I don't mean to push everyone away. I don't know why I've become so soft recently.

Your POV

After leaving Rick at his house I hurried home so I wouldn't dig myself deeper than I already have. Why do I let him have this power over me? I set my boundaries and I melted as soon as he touched me.. I'm so pathetic.

I arrive at my studio apartment and am greeted by my devoid home. I don't have much furniture in my house, just a lousy mattress, my tv which sits on the floor, a big dresser, some nightstands and a few posters hanging up. I never was interested in having a super decorated home plus I wasn't home very much up until recently. I crawl into my bed and become my own little cocoon with my blankets and comforter.

I haven't left my house for a week now after everything happened. I just don't feel any pleasure in doing things right now when I have this heavy weight in my chest and this immense longing for Rick. I lay in bed binge watching some random show on interdimensional cable. I'm not even watching the show, I'm just staring at the screen deep in thought. I guess I'm just depressed.

I start to doze off after being deprived of sleep due to my own emotional distress. As soon as I feel myself falling into a deep sleep I hear a loud crashing noise in my bathroom. My tired eyes shoot open and I jump out of my bed and scatter across my floor to grab an alien gun that Rick had gifted me a year ago for christmas. I slowly make my way to the noise, gun in hand as all of my nerves and senses are on edge. I hear the door handle start to jiggle so I stand next to the entrance with my back against the wall ready to jump out and fire. The door slowly creaked open and as soon as I saw a shadow creep out of the doorway I jumped out and went to fire until someone pushed my arm up and snatched the gun out of my frail hands. I instantly fall to the ground cowering away and I start violently sobbing out of fear. A warm age worn hand reaches out to touch my back in an attempt to comfort me. I slowly peeked up to see a tall figure with pale skin and bluish gray hair and immediately knew it was Rick. He grabs my arm and yanks me up to hug me and to calm me down. After my breathing had returned to normal and tears stopped pouring from my eyes I pushed him back in disbelief.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Why cant you just call me or knock on the door like a normal person?” I yell at him with a tinge of anger and confusion

“Mm because I can easily t-teleport wherever the fuck I want sweetheart.” he slurs out, his breath heavy with the smell of liquor. He slowly stumbles toward me and I step back.

“Why are you here, what do you need from me?” I ask irritated and still sleepy.

“y/n I-I need you, I need to be here with you.”

I look at him in disbelief. i can’t speak to him rationally when he’s like this so i decide to drop it for now. He's drunk and he needs to sober up so he can leave. I walk to my kitchen and start making some coffee and gather some pastries so he can eat and sober up. I sit next to him and hand him the warm cup and strawberry danish.

“Her eat and drink this, it'll make you feel better” I say as if I'm his mother giving him medicine when he's sick. Usually he's stubborn and refuses to eat something I give him but he immediately devours the sweet bread and starts slowly sipping away at his black coffee with a lot of sugar. I kinda giggle to myself. He looks so cute and vulnerable sitting on my bed acting this way. He finishes up his coffee and sets it on the ground next to his feet and slowly curls up on my bed in a fetal position. I sigh, I did not expect him to barge in and crash in my bed but here we are.

I get up and take his shoes off and grab a blanket to drape over his body. I go to put his cup in the sink and tidy up in my kitchen before retiring to my bed beside him. I lightly kiss his sweaty forehead and climb over his body to get under the covers. I submerge myself under the covers as I lay on my side facing him as he lies on his back. I slowly close my eyes and start drifting to sleep. He quickly adjusts himself to where he's embracing you like a teddy bear which startles you but you quickly ease into his warm skin and knock out with a light smile on your peaceful face.

Ugh I am so weak for him.

[creekcoffee]

˖⁺ ♥︎ ⋆ 𝒦𝐿𝒰𝒯𝒵

꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 2.4kay word count , fem reader , daddy kink , gilf dick ! ! ! ! ! , big dick rick :3 , ball worship , kind of mean rick , ditzy reader , kind of soff’ . . w feelings ? mayb . .

𝜗ϱ 𝓁𝓊𝓋 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝓂 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 . . . i wrote dis for mi . goin thru a lil bit of a rick sanchez brainrot sniffle :c thought dis cld ease mi out frm it .

“do you think you deserve this? do you s-serio — huuarrpp — usly think you d-deserve my dick within mere inches of you?”

your response is expected — a blubbery fuss and dewy eyed stare, one full of raw, unrefined pleadings for absolution — it’s entirely, one hundred percent expected. rick knows you like the back of his hand. he knows almost all, nearly all, basically all, and you, sweet, little you, sit atop of that list — primped and pretty, spine straightened, one plush thigh crossed upon the other.

you’re aware that he does.

the position the two of you find yourselves in is one, more than not, complicated. you suppose there’s a better word for position, because physically, rick ‘know it all’ sanchez, has you laid atop of the hood of his car, on a barren planet, its soil, a dull colored magenta. in quick, sparing glances, you noticed how it’s molded with craters all over and hanging high within a sky shaded with topaz, two suns shine — bright and sweltering. rick’s car is more of a circular shaped air craft and if it weren’t for the both of his hands pressed into your hip, holding you steady, gravity would have had you slipping.

you started off on your back after he’d basically snatched you out of it and pressed you against the hood, hissing about how he hadn’t known that you could be so stupid — that if he knew that you were just as dumb and going to be a handful as morty, he would’ve left you back at the house. it was when the predicted tears began to trickle down your blush dusted cheeks that he thrusted one of your legs atop of the other, slanting himself out of the opened gap of them momentarily as he did so that they now lay stacked, positioned near his left hip.

the idyllic position for him to carelessly flick the bottom hem of your tiny, sad excuse of a dress up onto your torso and slip the pulsing, thick rod of his dick in between the smooth, fat cushioning of your thighs, right up against your cunt, devoid of cotton, lace, or even a simple string.

this is what got you both into this situation here.

“d-didn’t know,” your voice is quiet, embarrassed. good. you should be. “rick, ‘m sorry—“

“—almost g-got the both of us fucking killed. you, you . . you don’t think, j-jesus, you never do. no panties, on an alien planet inhabited by gazulons who can scent out pheromones light years away,” rick’s frown is deep. it etches into the pale, slatey skin around his mouth, pushes firm lines into his stubble dotted cheeks. and it’s incapable of growing any deeper, so when the fresh memory of you being cowered within the corner of an alleyway, surrounded by nearly a dozen, seven feet tall, tentacle for hands, stalk of eyes aliens, to express more of his anger, he compresses the pads of his fingers more firmly into your skin until he sees you wince.

honestly, he’s surprised. you’re soft. you’re so fucking soft. he wouldn’t be surprised if the blade of a knife came ricocheting back if it were to ever press into you. you’re like crème caramel — firm but sickeningly sweet. you bounce back when rick pokes, tremble when he pushes.

rick had only turned his back on you for a second to trade out a few crystals for a widget needed for the most recent device he’s been building over the past few days or so — ironically, a tracking device, for you.

that’s how this always goes, though. more often than not, rick closes his eyes to blink, turns his back, splits away for two seconds to take a fucking shit, and it’s never long until you’re getting yourself into some type of trouble. he hadn’t known a person could be such a magnetite for peril until he met you.

you don’t respond well to chastises, reprimands, and long explanations completed with whiteboards and diagrams drawn upon them after rick has to ultimately save your ass. no, he finds that this works much better. his dick, that is. when he shoves it down your throat and calmly explains why you can’t accompany him to a planet known for exterminating sweet, ditzy little things like you to regulate their population, you’re giving him a nod of understanding with strings of cum strewn over your cheeks and lips. when he has it buried deep inside the spasming walls of your pussy, fat cockhead nudging incessantly against the bumpy ridge of your cervix as if he were trying to make room for it inside, his words are damn near liquid gold. you grasp every single one and clutch them close against your bosom within your heart.

when the slender lines of his hips starts to move with purpose, you’re to only watch how his red, angry tip sheathes and reveals itself within the wrap of his foreskin as it plunges between your thighs, back and forth. on the more particularly rough forces, it prods against the swollen nub of your clit, each one sending a tiny current of electricity zapping up your spine.

you adore rick. you absolutely do. it’s never in your agenda to be a handful, nonetheless, you’re aware that you are. the adventures he takes you on are nothing less than adrenaline racing, and if you’re honest, the only times where rick pays attention to you. you don’t think you purposely push yourself into life or death situations, becoming too much of a hassle and getting banned from joining him on another has come to be one of your greatest fears, but, you’re beginning to think that maybe, subconsciously, you do so to get this treatment from him right here.

his eyes are only on you, not on anyone else’s or a tinkering machine, but yours. the cold pads of his fingers are pressed against your skin, his cock is throbbing, pulsing, standing upright just for you.

it’s the ultimate honor, you think.

“daddy, ‘m sorry,” you mewl and wrap your hands around his wrists.

“oh, that’s nice,” he bites out, thick brows dipping low into his eyes to mimic a familiar face of distaste. “g-guess ‘m daddy now. d-dunno — uuurrp — why it took me this long to realize t-that you may just be like every o-other fucking twenty one year old girl on earth. a caffeine addict with daddy issues.”

disregarding his words, you note how the little hole upon his tip tenses before it releases a fat dollop of precum that falls onto your thigh and begins to trickle over it. he likes it.

“c’mon,” you’re whining and trying to open your legs, bucking your hips to get the mushroom head to breach the clenching hole of your cunt. “daddy, please?”

a firm line within his jaw clicks. god, you’re frustrating. at the end of these long, winding days, after hopping endless universes and making clones of himself at the drop of a dime, rick is only a man.

you watch the thin, though plush, skin of his lips purse before he’s letting a dribble of spit fall from them and onto the meat of your pussy. he watches you shudder when he first eases in . . watches your eyes roll back into your head, the tautness of your muscles ease . . god.

it’s as though you hadn’t just got fucked within an inch of your life just twelve hours ago.

“y-you know maybe i should f-figure out another punishment for you,” he grumbles, letting his cock sink deeper and deeper into the all consuming chamber of warm, gushy, softness that is you your pussy. “make you wait in the car from here on out, tie you up, maybe . . spank you?” provisionally, rick lifts his hand before letting it fall onto the fat chub of your left ass cheek. your response is a flinch and whine. he’d be an absolute dumbass to not notice how you lick your lips, curl your toes, and nibble down on the bottom to imprison a frail whimper of sweet desire. of course, you like that, too.

“the fuck am i going to do with you, huh . . .”

he hangs his head when he starts to move — when he starts to thrust and pound and fuck. your pussy is something magical. rick won’t lie, he’s been around. he’s fucked more than he’s honestly should and in no way is he someone who likes to rank his partners, he has a way of knowing just how good a person can take dick just by looking at them so they’ve all sort of, kind of been on the same caliber, however, he thinks you are number one.

you take him beautifully — just lay and mewl and sniffle and moan.

his balls hang low. heavy, full, wrinkled, and dusted with hairs the color of cobalt blue. they plop plop plop against the tight, star shaped hole of your ass when he adjusts your legs to bend them up at the knees which he holds within the creases of his elbows. the position leaves you flat on your back and his face only a few inches above your own. his car rattles with his vigor and speed, a few loose screws scream at you both to take it down a notch.

your pussy squelches and pulses, creaming around his shaft that only pounds her harder — forcing her to push out more thick, sweet milk. “ungh, d-daddy, f-forgive me?” your hands, soft and small, fingernails layered with almond shaped acrylic, the same hands rick shoved a couple hundreds into’s palms to get done, cradle his face. “m, hng, m s-sorry.”

you feel so good. you’re so good. your tits bounce within the bustier of your dress, one threatens to spill over it. he views a peek of spotted, chocolate brown. “f-fuck, you know . . what you’re doing,” he hisses, shoving one of your legs higher until it dangles over the hill of his shoulder. “ ‘m l-leaving you on the next mission.”

he watches your face crumble — well, as much as it can while being glazed over with precious relief as his cockhead strokes up against that nice, little clump of nerves angled near the roof of your cunt. “baby, no,” you whine with a dejected crack of your voice between the words. “don’t be, h-hah, mean.”

what’s mean is you using your pussy, your smile, your eyes, your hands, your smell to drag him in like this. you’re the worst kind of drug. “i am.” he takes the initiative to kiss you, and it’s a messy thing, full of tongue and heavy breaths. you taste whisky and mint and a heat in your core starts to brew and fester akin to a bubbling concoction within a beaker. “nothing, y’nothi— nothing but a f-fucking, sweet fuckin’ christ, distraction. can’t do shit by yourself, n-need daddy with you everywhere you go.”

you feel the rough paw of a hand, large and firm, upon the back of your head. rick forces it down and makes you watch his cock drop inside and rise up again out of your needy cunt. it glistens beneath the beaming rays of the suns. you see how the veins decorating column of it twitch and flutter with rushing blood. “ ‘m g-gonna,” you tremble, fisting a hand within the strands of his hair. “. . mmm, rick ��� oh god, rick . .”

a man of his age can only keep a hard, quick speed for so long, however, when he slows down, rick rocks himself in deeper. pushes himself in until your clit rubs up against the ragged hairs that cushions the skin above his dick. “so fuckin’ dirty,” he mumbles, letting your head go to instead grab hold of your face. he kisses you again, this time, a bit more softer. “g-gonna cum all over m’dick, huh? gonna say thank you when you’re done, huh? that’s what, y’know, that’s what good girls do.”

his touch is what pushes you over the edge.

he shoves his face into your neck to suckle a faint bruise of love while his hand snatches down the top of your dress to have your tits fall into his palm. firmly, he grips it. squeezes and kneads and rolls it within the heel of his hand. he touches you as though you were a doll made of rubber and silicone — he manhandles and fondles. he touches you as if you’re his and his alone.

when you cum, your pussy damn near crushes his cock. it tightens up, nice and hard, so that the physical release of your orgasm is able to properly kindle and rush out as thick streams of slick and cream. you’re whimpering your thank you’s, clawing your nails into his hips to ride it out for as long as you can.

“ngh, fuck, get on, knees, get on your knees.”

rick’s pulling out with a hand wrapped tightly around his base when your orgasm, inevitably, starts to fade. you notice that his eyes are closed, face is tensed. when you comply, his hand is at the back of your head again and he’s leading you towards his sac which begins to bounce and jerk in time as he fists his cock, nice and quick. “awe, yeah . . awe, fuck — uh huh, g-good girl, lick my balls.”

you hum as you lathe your tongue across the furrowed skin, stroking it over the seam and the two, round globes on either side of it. your lips pucker and cheeks sink in while you suckle one inside of your mouth and let fall out with a loud pop. “mmm.”

he rubs his thumb beneath the tip, stroking it left and right, each time his fist rises to the tall pillar of it. “unh . . y-yeah, nasty fuckin’ — . . . s-s-shit.”

his entire body shudders as he cums. you continue to hum and stroke your tongue along the salt tinged skin of his balls as you hear the faint splatters of a few ribbons of cum hitting the metal of his car behind you. he’s always been more of a shooter, only dribbles when he’s pent up and tired.

“hmm.” he can only stare, half a smirk lifting the corner of his lips when your tongue starts a slow drag up the shaft of his cock so that you can carefully lead his tip between your lips and suckle the rest down. “yeah, drink it up,” he pats your head a few times, as a person would an overeager pup. “. . think i lied, guess i’ll keep you around for another adventure or two.”

[creekcoffee]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

evil rick x reader

request: evil rick x reader? but... with a softer version of evil rick? tags: soft dom rick, kinda angsty, daddy kink, praise, p in v, dirty talk, fingering, age gap, pet names (baby girl, little one, baby, good girl), fluff notes: inspired by an audio i found on tiktok. it’s linked at the end of the fic. you’re welcome, rickfuckers words: 2.7k minors dni!

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the empty room, Evil Rick sat alone in his couch, the only company being the dim glow of a solitary lamp. His frail fingers clutched a faded photograph, a relic of happier times, now serving as a painful reminder of what once was. The man in the picture wore a wide smile, surrounded by loved ones who had long since vanished from his life. Beth, Summer, Jerry and even his Morty.

Evil Rick was a man consumed by loneliness, a loneliness that seeped into his bones like a bitter chill, never relenting, never fading. He had outlived his friends, his wife, and even his own child, leaving him stranded in a desolate landscape of memories and regrets. 

But perhaps the cruelest twist of fate lay in the betrayal of his own flesh and blood. His grandson, once the apple of his eye, had become a shadowy figure, lurking in the periphery of his existence, only to emerge when in need of something. Morty had exploited him, manipulating his emotions for his own gain, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered trust.

Rick's heart ached with the weight of betrayal as he stared at the photograph, tracing the faces of those who had once filled his life with warmth and laughter. Now, all that remained was the hollow echo of his own solitude, a vast emptiness that threatened to engulf him whole.

In the midst of Rick's profound solitude, there existed one flicker of light, one beacon of warmth in the form of his neighbor, you. You were a young woman, your vibrant presence a stark contrast to the dull monotony of Rick's days. Despite the gaping chasm of years between you, you had extended an unexpected hand of kindness to the elderly man next door.

Every Sunday like clockwork, you would knock softly on Rick's door, bearing a homemade cake adorned with delicate frosting and sprinkles of sweetness. The gesture was simple yet profound, a small reminder that amidst the vast expanse of loneliness, there existed pockets of unexpected kindness.

For Rick, those Sunday visits were a lifeline, a brief respite from the suffocating weight of solitude. He would eagerly anticipate the sound of your gentle knock, his heart lifting at the sight of your radiant smile as you presented him with your latest culinary creation.

But then, without warning, the Sunday visits ceased, leaving Rick adrift once more in a sea of loneliness. One week passed, then another, and still, there was no sign of you at his door. The absence weighed heavily upon Rick's heart, casting a shadow over the one bright spot in his otherwise dreary existence.

He found himself consumed by worry, his mind plagued by questions that remained unanswered. Had he done something to offend you? Have you grown tired of your weekly ritual? The uncertainty gnawed at him, filling him with a sense of unease that refused to dissipate.

As the days stretched into weeks, Rick's anxiety reached its peak, his thoughts consumed by visions of your smiling face and the tantalizing aroma of your cakes. The way he would much rather eat you up. He longed to reach out, to inquire about your sudden absence, but fear held him back, fear of intruding upon your life or worse, of discovering a truth he was not prepared to face.

And so, Rick waited, his heart heavy with the weight of unanswered questions, his only solace the memories of those precious Sundays spent in the company of his kind-hearted neighbor. Desperation clawed at his soul, driving him to seek solace in the bottom of a bottle.

With trembling hands and a heavy heart, Rick reached for the whiskey bottle tucked away in the recesses of his cupboard. He poured himself a generous measure, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light of his solitary abode. With each sip, the harsh burn of alcohol seared his throat, momentarily numbing the ache of longing that threatened to consume him whole.

In the hazy fog of intoxication, Rick allowed himself to drift into a realm of bittersweet memories, his thoughts lingering on the warmth of your smile, the few times his hand caressed your thighs and your cheeks blushing instantly. He raised his glass in a silent toast to you, a silent plea for your return echoing in the caverns of his mind.

And then, as if summoned by the depths of his despair, there came a soft knock on the door, so gentle it was almost imperceptible against the backdrop of Rick's inebriation. Startled, he blinked away the haze clouding his vision, his heart pounding in his chest as he staggered towards the source of the sound.

Rick swung open the door, his breath catching in his throat as he beheld the figure standing on his doorstep. It was you, your eyes filled with concern and compassion.

"y/n," Rick breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "I–I thought…why are you here?"

A flicker of sadness passed across your features as you gazed upon Rick, your heart aching at the sight of the man you had come to care for. Without a word, you stepped into his home, the sadness disappearing from your eyes as you showed him a big smile.

“I visited my family for two weeks. Missed me?”

“You wish”, Rick snickered. He did miss you and he missed teasing you.

With a confident stride, Rick stepped aside, allowing you to enter. His eyes lingered on your figure, tracing the curves of your body with an unabashed hunger that set you ablaze with desire.

"I made this for you," you said, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness as you presented him with the cake.

Rick's lips curled into a sly grin as he accepted the offering, his fingers brushing against yours in a tantalizing caress that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

"Thank you, baby," he murmured, his voice dripping with seduction.

You felt yourself growing weak at the knees under Rick's intense gaze, your breath catching in your throat as you struggled to maintain your composure.

"Rick, are you alright?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, “You seem drunker than usual.”

"I'm more than alright," he replied, his voice low and husky. "Especially now that you're here."

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as Rick's words washed over you, the air thick with tension as you danced on the edge of something electric.

Rick was always drunk when you came over. He was always teasing you yet you could feel that something was never quite alright with him. Carefully you put the cake down before walking over to his couch and taking a seat. Rick’s eyes never stopped staring at you. Slowly he followed suit, sitting down right next to you. His knee pressing into your thigh while his arm laid on the couch, right behind your back. Evil Rick’s thought were spiraling, getting dirtier and dirtier by each second when suddenly–

“You have a family?” You found the picture Evil Rick had been staring at before.

For a moment, a flicker of pain passed across Rick’s face, his expression clouded with memories long buried beneath layers of loneliness.

"I did once," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But they're all gone now."

Your heart ached at the sorrow in Rick's voice, your own emotions swirling as you reached out to gently squeeze his hand in a gesture of comfort.

As you lounged on the couch, the air between you and Rick crackled with a potent mix of tension and desire. Rick sat with his arm draped casually over the back of the couch behind you, his legs spread wide in a display of relaxed confidence. You, feeling the heat of his presence, couldn't help but lean into his proximity, your body humming with anticipation.

In a moment of vulnerability, Rick's head began to droop, his exhaustion evident despite his attempts to hide it. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke.

"Do you ever wonder if some people are just meant to be alone?" he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy.

Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in Rick's words, the ache of loneliness reflected in his soulful gaze. But beneath the sadness lay a simmering undercurrent of desire, a magnetic pull that drew you together like moths to a flame.

As Rick's head rested against your shoulder, you felt a surge of heat course through your veins, your body responding instinctively to his proximity. Despite the weight of his sadness, you couldn't ignore the overwhelming attraction that pulsed between you two, a primal urge that begged to be satiated.

With a hesitant touch, you reached out to gently caress Rick's cheek, your fingers tracing the lines of his weathered face with a tenderness born of longing.

"Some people may feel alone, Rick," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "But that doesn't mean they're destined to stay that way."

Evil Rick's gaze met yours, his eyes dark with desire as he drank in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips. In that moment, the barriers between you dissolved, leaving only the raw intensity of your shared desire burning bright.

Unable to resist any longer, Rick closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion between you. And as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of your desires, you found solace in each other's arms, two lonely souls finding refuge in the heat of your mutual longing.

As Ricks's lips met yours in a hot, sloppy kiss, a primal hunger ignited between you, consuming all reason in its fiery embrace. Your mouths moved in a desperate dance of passion, tongues intertwining with a fervor that left you both breathless and wanting more.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the heady scent of Rick's cologne, the rough texture of his stubble against your skin sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you surrendered to the intoxicating whirlwind of desire.

Rick, emboldened by your response, felt a surge of primal possessiveness wash over him. With a low growl, he pressed you against the back of the couch, his body pinning you in a gesture of dominance.

The air crackled with tension as Rick loomed over you, his gaze smoldering with unbridled passion. Your chests heaved in unison, the heat of your bodies mingling in the confined space between you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed up at Rick, your eyes dark with desire. You felt an electric current coursing through your veins, igniting every nerve ending with a fiery intensity that left you trembling with anticipation.

“Do you want to–want to help daddy feel less lonely?”

Red tainted your cheeks as you heard Rick call himself daddy. If only he knew that this was exactly what you would imagine while playing with your soaking pussy almost every night.

“…Yes”

Swiftly Rick positioned himself between your legs, his hard on pressing against your crotch. As usual you were wearing a skirt, which both you and Rick were more than thankful for. It made everything easier–faster. His calloused hand pulled your skirt up. A growl fell from Rick’s lips as he pushed your thong to the site to take in your pussy.

“Fuck…b-been dreaming about this pussy, baby”, his hand reached down, his finger moving up and down between your folds, “Already so wet. I didn’t even do anything…yet.”

Grinning he pressed his thumb against your clit, circling, taking in the way you arch your back and move your hips to meet his finger on your most sensitive part.

His other hand ventured upwards. He ran it lightly over the curve of your breast before briefly circling your nipple. You unconsciously arched your back and a sigh was the only sound that escaped you. He felt you stiffen briefly. Reassuringly, he squeezed your waist lightly, simultaneously trying to show you that it was okay, but also to urge you to do more.

"It's okay, baby girl" he murmured in your ear and as his hand moved a little further down and now circled your belly button, Rick felt you relax again. His lips made their way down your neck. He pressed delicate kisses onto your heated skin and when you willingly tilted your head to the side to give him more room, he let his tongue glide along your artery.

Rick flooded you with stimulation. His thumb was still playing with your clit while he sucked on your neck and his other hand kneaded your tits. Without warning, Rick eased his middle finger inside you while his thumb continued to take care of your pearl.

“S–such a good girl, for daddy”, he cooed, his finger being clenched by your needy cunt, “So fucking wet for daddy. See? Took another finger in.”

Rick continued to fuck you with his two fingers while planting soft kisses all over your body “You’re doing good, baby”, he reassured and praised you over and over and over again. His raspy voice filled your head. Rick took his time prepping you because he knew that not everyone could simply take his cock. He wanted both of you to feel as good as possible.

Need flooded every fiber of your body as you reached down and tried to unzip his pants. You wanted him badly, now. As soon as Rick understood what you tried to do, he took it upon himself to free his cock from his ever growing pants. When you saw it your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Rick Sanchez, your lonely old neighbor from next door, had a big cock, veiny and hard as a rock, pre cum leaking from its tip. Upon the sight your pussy clenched and pulsated around his fingers harder, something that Rick didn’t miss out.

“Hm, guess you like what you see”, Rick pulled his fingers out to wrap his hand with your sickly sweet juice around the head of his cock. “Daddy is going to–to reward you for taking his loneliness away.”

He pulled your legs over his shoulders, his thick cock now pressing exactly against your wet entrance. Oh, how he would love to just ram inside, his tip kissing your cervix as he pounds into you like a wild animal in heat, filling you up with his cum, breeding you like the good lil’ girl you are. Not now though, at least not tonight. Evil Rick felt something deeper, more than just sexual attraction and bent up rage, he felt an emotional connection.

Rick could feel your legs trembling against his chest as he eased into you with a slow space. Your cunt stretched around his cock, taking him – almost sucking him in. “Ahh…R-Rick–daddy.”

“‘s okay, baby”, he lowered himself, kissing your temple and pushing the rest of his length into your squelching pussy, “Ugh…fuck, y–you’re tight, baby, daddy’s g–good little girl.”

“yours…I’m yours, daddy.”

That was all Rick needed to hear. He began to thrust into you faster, harder feeling your walls tighten around him. He loved the sounds you two made together – his balls slapping against your ass, the wet sloppy sounds your pussy made everytime he pushed in and out, his own growls and moans filling the apartment.

He loved the way you squirmed and trembled under him, how you begged for him to fuck you even depper (though he was already hitting your cervix). He was filling you up completely, Rick was the biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Your hands reached out, grabbing his biceps, scratching him and leaving marks.

He loved how you made him forget his loneliness, the betrayal and rage rooted deep within him.

“fuck…ugh, oh…oh my god…ugh– daddy loves you…ah, that’s daddy’s good girl.”

[creekcoffee]

you’ve heard of method acting. now get ready for method writing as I fuck my favorite character so I can exceptionally write porn about him

[creekcoffee]

[click for better quality]

finally got to make some proper rnm fanart :>

[creekcoffee]

memory rick just likes to listen to club classics

[creekcoffee]

*chibiukecatboy-fies your mega genius alcoholic*

[creekcoffee]

⊹ fuckin’ amateurs rick sanchez, smut

brief. feeding his god complex

rick fills his free time with inventions and fucking his sweet girlfriend—his sweetheart who laughs at all his stupid jokes, patiently listens to his endless rants, cringes whenever he makes a joke about their sex life around his family and adores his cranky moods cause she likes to be fucked silly while he goes on about his day.

“and oh, baby—the way i shot their heads off,” he drones on, barely paying attention to his own words as he watches your wetness cling to his pubs. he always does this, so consumed in the way your pussy is pulling him in, your hole so sloppy and wet that it’s damn near disgusting, that he barely remembers what he talked about after. you’re no better than him with how foggy your brain gets. he hears you hiccup, the soft sound snapping his focus back to you.

“are you uurrp listening?” he slurs, narrowing his eyes at you, the smugness in his voice impossible to ignore. it takes you a moment—almost too long—to nod, your breath shaky as you cling onto his lab coat. but he’d put up such a stubborn fight that you finally let him win. it doesn’t help that last time, he refused to wash the damn thing for weeks, claiming it smelled like you (not like he does anyway), and he wasn’t ready to lose that like clingy dog and its favorite toy.

“good,” he mutters, a grin tugging at his lips. “’cause I’ve got some news that’ll blow your tiny little mind.”

you hate this part—hate how he always demands a reaction to every word, every sound he makes, even when he’s completely wrecking you. it’s not like you can form coherent thoughts when he’s like this, but that doesn’t stop him. no, he thrives on the power trip, on making sure you’re there for every word he spits out. and when you tell him to tone it down, to maybe not be so loud for once, he just sneers, his voice dripping with arrogance. “i can do whatever the hell i want, babe. i’m rick fucking uurrp sanchez. let ’em hear.”

and you let him. you always let him because he’s got you wrapped around his finger, and he knows it. besides, if you don’t, he’ll draw this out for as long as it takes, leaving you dangling just out of reach. “mm, w-what is it?” you stammer, barely able to form the words. he grins, pushing himself closer, deeper, so you can feel every word reverberate through you.

"y'know, word on the cosmic grapevine is you've got the best uurrp pussy in every universe—at least, that's what all the other ricks won't stop runnin' their mouths about." he chuckles, the sound rough and guttural, before clearing his throat, his tone dropping lower. his hips move in deeper, slower rolls, and your eyes follow suit, fluttering back as he pulls every bit of control from you.

“but they don’t know what the real one feels like, do they?” his teeth grind slightly as he mutters under his breath, “amateurs.” you almost laugh at how ridiculous it is—him getting jealous over his own clones—but the thought barely takes root before his hips snap into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs.

through glossy eyes, you look at him, your voice trembling, thick with need as you reply, “no, no—you’re my god, rick.” you know it's what he loves to hear most, no matter the situation.

he looks back at you with bloodshot ones, his smirk widening as his ego swells with every shaky word you manage. “that’s right,” he huffs, his voice dripping his smugness. “means something coming from you, sweetheart. don’t let it go to your head.”

[creekcoffee]

It ain’t me (rick sanchez/ Fem! reader)

chapter 2

read chapter 1 here

A day went by. 10 missed calls, 4 voicemails, and 24 texts

2 weeks went by. 60 missed calls, 32 voicemails and 97 texts

One month went by. 270 missed calls, 230 voicemails and 356 text messages

All from Rick.

I sat on my bed feeling nauseous as I scanned through some of the messages. A lot of them consisted of angry and desperate apologies and pleading for my attention but I try not to give in. I miss his presence so much it kills me. At some point a lot of his messages seemed as if he was on copious amounts of drugs. I knew he was in pain as well but everytime he lashed out on me it drained me mentally which affected me physically.

I always tend to spiral into self destructive patterns and intense depressive episodes. In these scenarios it was always the same thing; Anger, verbal abuse, angry fucking that turned into makeup sex, him avoiding me and then things would be back to normal. I want this time to be different, I refuse to go back and let him do this to me over and over again.

A few more days pass and I get a call from a random number. I was a little nervous so I sent it to voicemail. I opened up the message and to my surprise it was Morty. He was explaining that Rick was crashing with squanchy on planet squanch and wasn't answering any messages or calls. He also mentioned that Rick has been on a self destructive bender and drinking WAY more than he ever has. It got to the point that he started isolating himself in his sublevel basement. I ended the message because hearing all of this made me feel like there was a pit forming in my stomach and my heart dropping into the pit. I felt like it was my duty to go and find him and bring him back. I decided that I would go and see if I can find him and bring him home and explain that I'm leaving him for good and then leave immediately after. I just felt like I owed him a better ending.

I pack up my bag with spare clothes for Rick and a few weapons and get into my car similar to his and take off. I had previously put a chip into his phone out of pure obsession so I knew exactly where he was at. I pull up the coordinates on my gps and speed to squanchies hideout.

When I arrived at the small beaten down shack I noticed Rick's car on the front lawn all tattered as if he had crashed it multiple times. I walk up to the front entrance and go to knock on the door. Im met with murky yellow eyes and an annoying voice

“What do you need? Are you here delivering my shit?” he says all slurred and raspy

“Uh no i came here to see-”

I was cut off mid sentence with Rick's confused and angry voice.

“Y/n?! What the fuck are you doing here and how did you find me?”

I pushed the door open to get a better look at him. He was leaned up against the yellow stained walls. He looked grimy and sweaty and reeked of liquor and other substances. I've never seen him like this.

“Morty called me and said you disappeared weeks ago and i needed to see you, im sorry”

“That little fuck always telling people shit he should’nt.”

He slowly stood up, his tall lanky body looming over me. As nasty as he was right now I couldn't help to feel a twitch of attraction towards him right now.

He stumbles a little as he starts walking so I help hold him up until he's steady enough to walk.

“Rick, I'm taking you home, let's go.” I insist. He stops walking immediately

“So you think you can just disappear from my life and just come back and demand me to leave with you? Fuck that just leave me here”

“Rick, I miss you and I want you back on earth so we can talk please. I'm sorry things went the way they did but I was in so much pain after that night." I pleaded with him on the verge of tears. God, I'm such a crybaby for him.

“Hey i don't mean to squanch here-”

“SHUT UP SQUANCH!” me and Rick yell in unison.

I look rick dead in the eyes with desperate eyes “come home.. Now.”

He sinks his head down in defeat. He’s expressed that he hates it when I look at him with these eyes. It's like a sad puppy begging for food.

He turns to squanchy. “Thank you for letting me crash here squanch but i gotta go.”

“I understand Rick, feel free to squanch around here whenever you want.”

“Thanks bro”

Rick grabs the very few things he brought and from what i'm assuming is an extra stash of drugs. We walk out onto the front yard and I tell him I'll drive his car for him and I'll retrieve mine later. He doesn't argue, he just nods and gets in the passenger seat. When I got in I handed him an extra set of clothes because he was drenched in sweat and other fluids i couldn't imagine.

We sat in silence for a bit while I drove us home. I look over to him and he's just looking out the window thinking to himself. In a way he's so beautiful when he shuts up and just exists. Some more time passes and he starts talking

“How did you find me?’

“I put a tracking device on you awhile back.”

He raised his eyebrows in shock but then soon rested them as if he didnt care.

“Obsessive much?”

“Okay to be fair i didn't want to be separated from you during one of our trips so to be safe i-”

“No no i'm not saying it's weird or anything i just didn't know we were like THAT” he says cutting me off

“Yeah well now i can see your every move” i giggle

“Now you're making it weird” he snaps back chuckling lightly

We arrive at his house and just sit in his car for a bit in silence. I look over to him and he notices so he turns his head to see me. We just stare at each other's features in silence.

“Rick I feel like I need to say something but I fear you're gonna take it the wrong way.” i say anxiously

“Just say it don't beat around the bush” he replies bluntly

“I've missed you so much and I'm sorry I left but I can't keep doing this little game with you where you treat me like shit and then expect me to be okay with it and stay. I genuinely think we should take time apart from whatever we have going on "I say as my chest and stomach burn. I felt like it's not what I wanted at all but something I needed.

“Nobodys expecting you to stay sweetheart, you just keep coming back. If you’re so miserable doing this then why did you come back” he says smugly with a tinge of anger

“Because I care for you.” I say uneasy. I know there's more to my emotions i just can't admit it to myself and him

We stare at each other for a few more moments in silence until he pounces towards me and attacks my lips with his. His breath tastes like whiskey and has an undertone of tobacco and something fruity. He tries to slip his tongue into my mouth but i don't let him. He grabs my face with his hand which startled me so he uses that moment to slip it in finally. He grabs me and pulls me over the center console so I can straddle his lap and rest his hands on my hips. He knows he has me now because I just melt in his touch.

He starts feeling me up erratically as if I'll just disappear from his grasp. I'm trying not to make much noise because I don't want to give in to him and let him win this but it's hard because I'm letting out little whimpers and moans as his tongue violates my mouth and his hands grope me. It all felt so erotic.

Were interrupted by Morty loudly tapping at the window which startled me. i probably look like a deer in headlights. My face was flushed and my forehead had hair sticking to it. I scoot on over to the driver's seat in shame and Rick opens up the door.

“Hello y/n..” he replies with a monotone voice. Me and morty have had a very strained relationship considering I'm someone a little over 10 years older than him being in a relationship (if you really wanna call it that) with his 70 year old grandpa. Its awkward.

“When did you guys get back?” he asks as we exit the car.

“Uh maybe like an hour ago now” i reply unsure

“Do you wanna come inside to eat or-”

“Uh actually i'm gonna head back home right now but thank you” i say cutting ricks invitation off. I don't want to get attached again.

“Do you need me to drive you h-”

“No no im good ill just walk home, goodnight you guys” i say as i start walking down the street at a fast pace and my head hung low.

I can't afford to get attached to him again.

read chapter 3 here

[creekcoffee]

[creekcoffee]

It ain't me (Rick Sanchez/Fem!reader)

You and rick had a confusing relationship. You were in your late 20’s and he was pushing 70… it was weird but you had a thing for older dudes, especially rick. After youre last bender you went on with rick he said some vile things and you had enough of his shit so youre gone for good. He spirals and expects you to be there but you wont budge (as much as you want to) based on the song It ain't me by Kygo and Salena Gomez.

Tw: Sexual assault, drug use, abuse, age gap.

I don't know what day it is anymore. I've been venturing out into the cosmos with Rick ingesting every drug we came across. We had just stopped at delta-a106 and drank a k-lax smoothie on the highest floor of the most prestigious club. The richest of the rich would hang out there 24/7. I was high as fuck and everything felt amazing. Me and Rick laid out on lounge chairs watching the sky glow and sparkle with a purple and pink hue. I really needed to pee so I went in search of a restroom as Rick laid on the patio dozing in and out of consciousness. I stumbled into the building looking for anything that resembled a bathroom sign but everything was in an alien language I had yet to learn. I finally found a door that looked like it could be a bathroom so I entered in quickly. As soon as I entered I ran into a stall and had instant relief. I finished peeing and what not and went to wash my hands but as soon as I opened the stall door I was met with a bunch of galorpians foaming from all three of their mouths and their slimy tentacles slithering towards me. I then knew that I stumbled into the wrong bathroom and now I'm surrounded by a bunch of aliens and I can't tell if they're rageful or horny…. or both. I tried to ease my way around them muttering a string of sorrys and excuse me but they stood in my way and backed me into the stall. I was horrified as I started crying and yelling for Rick to help me. There were tentacles trying to undo my blouse and slithering up my long sleeves and I just wanted to die right there. A few moments pass as I'm being violated by these fucking galorpians and the bathroom door slams open and i hear rick angrily call out for me. I start screaming for him and he realizes what the fuck is happening. He blasts through the herd of aliens with ease and drags me out of the gut covered stall. He's pissed. I started explaining that I just had to pee and wandered into the wrong bathroom and how I didn’t mean for this to happen. When I got to the car he started tearing into me. “Why the fuck did you wander off without me, you know these fuckheads can smell you from miles away!” Tears slowly prickle my eyes as I try to explain that it wasn’t my intention to ruin the night and get myself into trouble but he disagrees. “I can’t deal with your shit anymore y/n. all you do is make me question why the fuck did I bring this whore with me. You're so unbelievably helpless and needy! I bet you wanted that to happen in the bathroom didn’t you?” I was in shock… I didn't know how to react to what he said except start crying aggressively. How could he say that I wanted something like this? It wasn’t my fault.. I pulled myself together and gathered my thoughts on what he just said. “make me a portal.” I said. “what?” “MAKE ME A PORTAL… I’m done here you can enjoy your time here I'm going home so I won't ruin shit for you anymore” I replied. He scoffed and opened up a portal to my home “Gladly! I don't know why I spent so much energy on you.” I walked through the portal as pain radiated through my chest. It hurt. All of this hurt.

read chapter two here

this is my first fic but I've read so many fics for the last 10 yrs and figured it was time to write my own. also I posted this on my Ao3 under the same title.

[creekcoffee]

Rick Prime…

I wanna be his dog thank you very much🙏🏻

[creekcoffee]

some doodles from twt that I forgot to post here

[creekcoffee]

˖⁺ ♥︎ ⋆ 𝒦𝐿𝒰𝒯𝒵

꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 2.4kay word count , fem reader , daddy kink , gilf dick ! ! ! ! ! , big dick rick :3 , ball worship , kind of mean rick , ditzy reader , kind of soff’ . . w feelings ? mayb . .

𝜗ϱ 𝓁𝓊𝓋 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝓂 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 . . . i wrote dis for mi . goin thru a lil bit of a rick sanchez brainrot sniffle :c thought dis cld ease mi out frm it .

“do you think you deserve this? do you s-serio — huuarrpp — usly think you d-deserve my dick within mere inches of you?”

your response is expected — a blubbery fuss and dewy eyed stare, one full of raw, unrefined pleadings for absolution — it’s entirely, one hundred percent expected. rick knows you like the back of his hand. he knows almost all, nearly all, basically all, and you, sweet, little you, sit atop of that list — primped and pretty, spine straightened, one plush thigh crossed upon the other.

you’re aware that he does.

the position the two of you find yourselves in is one, more than not, complicated. you suppose there’s a better word for position, because physically, rick ‘know it all’ sanchez, has you laid atop of the hood of his car, on a barren planet, its soil, a dull colored magenta. in quick, sparing glances, you noticed how it’s molded with craters all over and hanging high within a sky shaded with topaz, two suns shine — bright and sweltering. rick’s car is more of a circular shaped air craft and if it weren’t for the both of his hands pressed into your hip, holding you steady, gravity would have had you slipping.

you started off on your back after he’d basically snatched you out of it and pressed you against the hood, hissing about how he hadn’t known that you could be so stupid — that if he knew that you were just as dumb and going to be a handful as morty, he would’ve left you back at the house. it was when the predicted tears began to trickle down your blush dusted cheeks that he thrusted one of your legs atop of the other, slanting himself out of the opened gap of them momentarily as he did so that they now lay stacked, positioned near his left hip.

the idyllic position for him to carelessly flick the bottom hem of your tiny, sad excuse of a dress up onto your torso and slip the pulsing, thick rod of his dick in between the smooth, fat cushioning of your thighs, right up against your cunt, devoid of cotton, lace, or even a simple string.

this is what got you both into this situation here.

“d-didn’t know,” your voice is quiet, embarrassed. good. you should be. “rick, ‘m sorry—“

“—almost g-got the both of us fucking killed. you, you . . you don’t think, j-jesus, you never do. no panties, on an alien planet inhabited by gazulons who can scent out pheromones light years away,” rick’s frown is deep. it etches into the pale, slatey skin around his mouth, pushes firm lines into his stubble dotted cheeks. and it’s incapable of growing any deeper, so when the fresh memory of you being cowered within the corner of an alleyway, surrounded by nearly a dozen, seven feet tall, tentacle for hands, stalk of eyes aliens, to express more of his anger, he compresses the pads of his fingers more firmly into your skin until he sees you wince.

honestly, he’s surprised. you’re soft. you’re so fucking soft. he wouldn’t be surprised if the blade of a knife came ricocheting back if it were to ever press into you. you’re like crème caramel — firm but sickeningly sweet. you bounce back when rick pokes, tremble when he pushes.

rick had only turned his back on you for a second to trade out a few crystals for a widget needed for the most recent device he’s been building over the past few days or so — ironically, a tracking device, for you.

that’s how this always goes, though. more often than not, rick closes his eyes to blink, turns his back, splits away for two seconds to take a fucking shit, and it’s never long until you’re getting yourself into some type of trouble. he hadn’t known a person could be such a magnetite for peril until he met you.

you don’t respond well to chastises, reprimands, and long explanations completed with whiteboards and diagrams drawn upon them after rick has to ultimately save your ass. no, he finds that this works much better. his dick, that is. when he shoves it down your throat and calmly explains why you can’t accompany him to a planet known for exterminating sweet, ditzy little things like you to regulate their population, you’re giving him a nod of understanding with strings of cum strewn over your cheeks and lips. when he has it buried deep inside the spasming walls of your pussy, fat cockhead nudging incessantly against the bumpy ridge of your cervix as if he were trying to make room for it inside, his words are damn near liquid gold. you grasp every single one and clutch them close against your bosom within your heart.

when the slender lines of his hips starts to move with purpose, you’re to only watch how his red, angry tip sheathes and reveals itself within the wrap of his foreskin as it plunges between your thighs, back and forth. on the more particularly rough forces, it prods against the swollen nub of your clit, each one sending a tiny current of electricity zapping up your spine.

you adore rick. you absolutely do. it’s never in your agenda to be a handful, nonetheless, you’re aware that you are. the adventures he takes you on are nothing less than adrenaline racing, and if you’re honest, the only times where rick pays attention to you. you don’t think you purposely push yourself into life or death situations, becoming too much of a hassle and getting banned from joining him on another has come to be one of your greatest fears, but, you’re beginning to think that maybe, subconsciously, you do so to get this treatment from him right here.

his eyes are only on you, not on anyone else’s or a tinkering machine, but yours. the cold pads of his fingers are pressed against your skin, his cock is throbbing, pulsing, standing upright just for you.

it’s the ultimate honor, you think.

“daddy, ‘m sorry,” you mewl and wrap your hands around his wrists.

“oh, that’s nice,” he bites out, thick brows dipping low into his eyes to mimic a familiar face of distaste. “g-guess ‘m daddy now. d-dunno — uuurrp — why it took me this long to realize t-that you may just be like every o-other fucking twenty one year old girl on earth. a caffeine addict with daddy issues.”

disregarding his words, you note how the little hole upon his tip tenses before it releases a fat dollop of precum that falls onto your thigh and begins to trickle over it. he likes it.

“c’mon,” you’re whining and trying to open your legs, bucking your hips to get the mushroom head to breach the clenching hole of your cunt. “daddy, please?”

a firm line within his jaw clicks. god, you’re frustrating. at the end of these long, winding days, after hopping endless universes and making clones of himself at the drop of a dime, rick is only a man.

you watch the thin, though plush, skin of his lips purse before he’s letting a dribble of spit fall from them and onto the meat of your pussy. he watches you shudder when he first eases in . . watches your eyes roll back into your head, the tautness of your muscles ease . . god.

it’s as though you hadn’t just got fucked within an inch of your life just twelve hours ago.

“y-you know maybe i should f-figure out another punishment for you,” he grumbles, letting his cock sink deeper and deeper into the all consuming chamber of warm, gushy, softness that is you your pussy. “make you wait in the car from here on out, tie you up, maybe . . spank you?” provisionally, rick lifts his hand before letting it fall onto the fat chub of your left ass cheek. your response is a flinch and whine. he’d be an absolute dumbass to not notice how you lick your lips, curl your toes, and nibble down on the bottom to imprison a frail whimper of sweet desire. of course, you like that, too.

“the fuck am i going to do with you, huh . . .”

he hangs his head when he starts to move — when he starts to thrust and pound and fuck. your pussy is something magical. rick won’t lie, he’s been around. he’s fucked more than he’s honestly should and in no way is he someone who likes to rank his partners, he has a way of knowing just how good a person can take dick just by looking at them so they’ve all sort of, kind of been on the same caliber, however, he thinks you are number one.

you take him beautifully — just lay and mewl and sniffle and moan.

his balls hang low. heavy, full, wrinkled, and dusted with hairs the color of cobalt blue. they plop plop plop against the tight, star shaped hole of your ass when he adjusts your legs to bend them up at the knees which he holds within the creases of his elbows. the position leaves you flat on your back and his face only a few inches above your own. his car rattles with his vigor and speed, a few loose screws scream at you both to take it down a notch.

your pussy squelches and pulses, creaming around his shaft that only pounds her harder — forcing her to push out more thick, sweet milk. “ungh, d-daddy, f-forgive me?” your hands, soft and small, fingernails layered with almond shaped acrylic, the same hands rick shoved a couple hundreds into’s palms to get done, cradle his face. “m, hng, m s-sorry.”

you feel so good. you’re so good. your tits bounce within the bustier of your dress, one threatens to spill over it. he views a peek of spotted, chocolate brown. “f-fuck, you know . . what you’re doing,” he hisses, shoving one of your legs higher until it dangles over the hill of his shoulder. “ ‘m l-leaving you on the next mission.”

he watches your face crumble — well, as much as it can while being glazed over with precious relief as his cockhead strokes up against that nice, little clump of nerves angled near the roof of your cunt. “baby, no,” you whine with a dejected crack of your voice between the words. “don’t be, h-hah, mean.”

what’s mean is you using your pussy, your smile, your eyes, your hands, your smell to drag him in like this. you’re the worst kind of drug. “i am.” he takes the initiative to kiss you, and it’s a messy thing, full of tongue and heavy breaths. you taste whisky and mint and a heat in your core starts to brew and fester akin to a bubbling concoction within a beaker. “nothing, y’nothi— nothing but a f-fucking, sweet fuckin’ christ, distraction. can’t do shit by yourself, n-need daddy with you everywhere you go.”

you feel the rough paw of a hand, large and firm, upon the back of your head. rick forces it down and makes you watch his cock drop inside and rise up again out of your needy cunt. it glistens beneath the beaming rays of the suns. you see how the veins decorating column of it twitch and flutter with rushing blood. “ ‘m g-gonna,” you tremble, fisting a hand within the strands of his hair. “. . mmm, rick — oh god, rick . .”

a man of his age can only keep a hard, quick speed for so long, however, when he slows down, rick rocks himself in deeper. pushes himself in until your clit rubs up against the ragged hairs that cushions the skin above his dick. “so fuckin’ dirty,” he mumbles, letting your head go to instead grab hold of your face. he kisses you again, this time, a bit more softer. “g-gonna cum all over m’dick, huh? gonna say thank you when you’re done, huh? that’s what, y’know, that’s what good girls do.”

his touch is what pushes you over the edge.

he shoves his face into your neck to suckle a faint bruise of love while his hand snatches down the top of your dress to have your tits fall into his palm. firmly, he grips it. squeezes and kneads and rolls it within the heel of his hand. he touches you as though you were a doll made of rubber and silicone — he manhandles and fondles. he touches you as if you’re his and his alone.

when you cum, your pussy damn near crushes his cock. it tightens up, nice and hard, so that the physical release of your orgasm is able to properly kindle and rush out as thick streams of slick and cream. you’re whimpering your thank you’s, clawing your nails into his hips to ride it out for as long as you can.

“ngh, fuck, get on, knees, get on your knees.”

rick’s pulling out with a hand wrapped tightly around his base when your orgasm, inevitably, starts to fade. you notice that his eyes are closed, face is tensed. when you comply, his hand is at the back of your head again and he’s leading you towards his sac which begins to bounce and jerk in time as he fists his cock, nice and quick. “awe, yeah . . awe, fuck — uh huh, g-good girl, lick my balls.”

you hum as you lathe your tongue across the furrowed skin, stroking it over the seam and the two, round globes on either side of it. your lips pucker and cheeks sink in while you suckle one inside of your mouth and let fall out with a loud pop. “mmm.”

he rubs his thumb beneath the tip, stroking it left and right, each time his fist rises to the tall pillar of it. “unh . . y-yeah, nasty fuckin’ — . . . s-s-shit.”

his entire body shudders as he cums. you continue to hum and stroke your tongue along the salt tinged skin of his balls as you hear the faint splatters of a few ribbons of cum hitting the metal of his car behind you. he’s always been more of a shooter, only dribbles when he’s pent up and tired.

“hmm.” he can only stare, half a smirk lifting the corner of his lips when your tongue starts a slow drag up the shaft of his cock so that you can carefully lead his tip between your lips and suckle the rest down. “yeah, drink it up,” he pats your head a few times, as a person would an overeager pup. “. . think i lied, guess i’ll keep you around for another adventure or two.”

[creekcoffee]

Hell yeah

[creekcoffee]

gay is okay, stan

[creekcoffee]

has this been done yet