
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5327744.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith, Morty_Smith/Tentacles
  Character:
      Tentacle_Monster, Tentacle_Creature, Idfk_what_to_call_it_okay, It's_got
      tentacles, Morty_Smith, Rick_Sanchez
  Additional Tags:
      Tentacle_Sex, Exhibitionism, Incest, Rough_Sex, Anal_Sex
  Series:
      Part 9 of Rick_and_Morty_porn
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-01 Words: 1807
****** I have no excuse for this sin just take it ******
by mortysmithh
Summary
     I got bored and figured some good ol' tentacle porn with MortMort
     wouldn't be bad
     Jesus christ forgive me for my sins
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The squirming mass pulls itself up out of the portal, just as Morty had
planned. And sitting not more than seven feet away from the creature and Morty,
is Rick, tied up and unable to do anything but watch on helplessly. His
attention’s yanked away, horrified stare shifting to an annoyed, slightly
glazed glare in his eyes as his ears twitch at the sound of Morty starting to
strip. As much as he tries to seem like he couldn’t care less, he squirms,
trying his hardest to escape, but Morty knows all of his weak points by now,
and it’s not so much as he’s afraid that he’ll get hurt, he’s just worried that
his grandson might have gotten in a bit over his head.
He nearly trips as he manages to stumble out of his pants, bare chest heaving
slightly as he pants from excitement and slight embarrassment at his little
fumble. “Ahem, R-Rick. I hope that y-you’re watching, a-and paying close
attention. Y-Y-You, you wouldn’t even have had to worry, i-if- if you weren’t-
h-hadn’t been peeking, like a-a little pervert, you know, s-so don’t- d-don’t
even say a word, just- e-enjoy the show, I guess,” and there’s a small curl of
malicious amusement in those last few words, cheeks tingeing a few shades
darker of red as he steps closer to the thing he’d ‘summoned’ using Rick’s
portal gun.
It’s about six or seven feet in total length, if going by approximate
measurements. After all, who has time to bother with a ruler with tentacles
flailing all about? Soft, slick sounds emanate from it; it seems almost
agitated, or perhaps excited. The tops are a dusky navy colour, the undersides
an almost pastel, baby blue, and Morty wonders whether he’ll have time to take
a few pictures, if not just to appreciate the aesthetics of the creature.
But a slick appendage reaches out, the mass as a whole scooting closer to him
as well, and as it wraps itself around his leg, he can hear Rick’s breath
hitch. He struggles to keep his eyes open, resisting the urge to let them fall
shut into a relaxed state as the cool muscle massaging him is tempting them to.
“M-Morty,” he croaks out, and his voice is crackled, his stammer much more
prominent in the way that shows he isn’t quite desperate to get out of his
bonds, but it’s only because he knows Morty’s too good with knots to have left
Rick any possible way to escape without his help. He blushes, clearing his
throat in an attempt to seem more in-control, despite being in a position that
forces him to bare everything; the most ‘hiding’ thing he can do is tuck his
chin in, after all. “Morty, y-you- listen, y-y-you don’t understEURGH-
understand, M-Morty. It- th-these, the Flunnohrsians, th-they- they don’t fuck
around, Morty, please, y-you gotta- gotta listen to me, th-this one ti-”
A scowl crosses over his face, and while it isn’t anything serious, he has a
flash of determination in his eyes, the kind that Rick knows to usually lead to
Morty doing something stupid. His right arm twitches, a pointless attempt to
reach out and stop Morty as the boy steps closer still to the mass of
tentacles, then reaches out, takes one swaying limb into a hand, and brings it
to his mouth to suck on it gently. Rick grimaces, almost has to close his eyes
because he knows what’s going to happen next, anticipates the sudden, swift way
the mass wraps countless feelers around Morty’s body and lifts him up a few
feet into the air. Not nearly enough to hurt if Morty were to be dropped, but
still pretty scary for a 15 year-old boy.
He squeals sharply at the abrupt loss of feeling his own weight on his body,
struggling out of reflex for a few moments before he relaxes, letting out a
soft sigh as he lets his body untense limb by limb. “Flgh’krr bloer sh’v,
trizef.” He utters the alien language without so much as a stutter, only
pausing to add on, “Biurakh zhef’yr Rick qufohr?” and the mass lets out a deep
series of gurgles, unraveling several tentacles to start roaming Morty’s body
at a pace that’s much too fast for the still-watching Rick.
He feels so helpless, and while some part of his mind feels fucked-up about it,
like he should do something to stop this, another part of him (specifically,
his cock) is enjoying the show, loves the way Morty jerks and gasps out a
whimper of Rick’s name as the tip of one azure appendage prods at his ass,
pausing to wrap itself around a bottle of lube and empty it all onto Morty’s
stomach before dragging the tip through and starting to stretch his grandson.
Soft gasps and pants leave him at every movement of the mass that’s still got
him three feet up in the air, his body jerking and twitching as it quickly
starts to border between too much and not nearly enough. He manages to keep eye
contact with Rick this entire time, though, only breaking it for a few seconds
at a time as his eyes roll back into his head at the tease to his prostate, or
the way his eyes flutter, struggling to stay open and failing for a few,
breathtaking moments as yet another appendage wraps around his neck, squeezes
just hard enough that his cheeks go a few shades pinker and his dick twitches,
getting harder still.
Whatever he told the mass, it’s clearly been given the ok on whatever it feels
like doing, because Morty certainly doesn’t seem to be expecting it to shove 9
inches of tentacle abruptly up his ass. He’s used to large insertions, of
course, but he isn’t used to the nearly painful accuracy of this particular
species of tentacle monsters, isn’t prepared for how all of the length presses
up hard against his prostate, continuing to stimulate it spot-on as the
tentacle expands, spreads his ass wider still before starting to thrust. It
starts slow, and pulls out several times to coat itself with more lube from
Morty’s torso, which is now shiny with a mixture of the lubrication and sweat,
but after its established a basic pattern, it doesn’t hold back.
However, Morty manages to gasp out a few more words in Flunnohrsian, and it
stops thrusting, still teasing at the kid’s nipples as it changes position, and
now Morty’s belly-up, face turned towards Rick. He starts getting fucked once
more, each thrust dragging against his prostate in a way that’s absolutely
unfamiliar, and he feels almost dirty, like his very flesh is being invaded
with just how excruciatingly pleasant this experience has so quickly become.
Mouth hanging open, drool starting to slip out of the corner of his mouth, and
dick being stroked off by several, much smaller and thinner appendages, Morty
Smith is a sight to behold, especially from the delicious angle Rick’s able to
view him at. The older man manages to surge up, kiss Morty hard, and it’s
messy, and their teeth clack together hard enough for a dull jolt of pain to be
felt by both parties, but it’s absolutely perfect, and Morty lets out a weak
moan into it, voice hoarse from choking back noises and from uttering such a
harsh, alien language.
When Rick pulls away from the kiss, his dick gets impossibly harder, almost
hurting with how badly he needs to get off just because of the sight in front
of him.
Morty looks so wrecked; sweat’s all over his body and his eyes are half-lidded,
and now there are three tentacles thrusting in and out of his lithe body at
such a brutally fast pace that his breath is being practically knocked out of
him and he’s howling out garbled moans that Rick thinks might be of his name.
Cum spurts from his dick, hitting him in the chest and several ropes managing
to get in his mouth and around it, but the mass of tentacles doesn’t stop. It
doesn’t stop until Morty’s orgasmed six more times, and it only stops because
it ran out of lube. It shoots itself a portal, growls out a polite farewell in
its language, and leaves Morty in a leaking, exhausted puddle of cum, sweat,
lube, and drool on the floor.
Now Rick decides is the time to use the knife he’d hidden under his tongue,
clamping it in-between his teeth and shaking from how turned on he is and has
been for the past few hours. He cuts through the ropes, and stumbles over to
Morty, cradling his grandson’s torso in his lap and muttering, calling Morty
names but in that gruff, semi-affectionate way that shows he just wants Morty
to drink some water so that they can fuck already.
Surprisingly, Morty’s able to crack open bleary red eyes, tearstains shimmering
on his cheeks still as he cracks a shit-eating grin and starts fumbling with
Rick’s belt. “G-G-Go, go gentle, a-an- and you can ffhhnn...f-fuck me,” he
gasps out, and Rick knows he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But he nods,
presses a kiss to Morty’s sweaty temple and practically purrs as Morty lifts
himself up and sinks down onto Rick dick with a shaky sigh of a moan, Rick’s
name still the only thing he’ll moan if he moans a word.
Rick bucks his hips up gently, relishes the way Morty squeaks and grips at his
grandfather’s shoulders the hardest he can, which is still barely enough for
him to hold on, so Rick puts his hands on Morty’s hips, grasps the already-
bruised skin there just hard enough that he can fuck into Morty harder, faster,
still gentle enough that his ‘roughness’ can be considered passionate, and he
kisses Morty sweetly enough that Morty musters up the energy to kiss back, eyes
unable to open past half-lidded anymore as he lets them slip shut and his
forehead falls forwards onto Rick’s chest. He grinds his hips the best he can,
crying out as he cums for the eighth time that night, Rick’s cum filling him up
in that thick, warm way he can never get enough of.
Then he passes out, still on Rick’s dick and his own oozing the last of his
jizz, not that there’s very much left in his body to let out, if there’s any at
all. Rick just chuckles, pulls Morty off of his dick and carries him bridal-
style to the bathroom he’d installed in the garage a few months back, and
presses a gentle kiss to the exhausted kid’s forehead. “L-Little shit, you’re
lucky I love you, o-other, otherwise I wouldn’t wash your nasty ass,” he
mumbles with a soft laugh as he starts up the water for a hot bath.
 
End Notes
     My Tumblr's kinkykankri, go kinkshame me and give me fic ideas!! <33
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
