
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12672939.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Dom_Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Sub_Morty_Smith, C137cest, rickmorty,
      BDSM, Praise_Kink, Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Finger_Sucking, Light
      Bondage, Incest, Gaslighting, Unhealthy_Relationships, Implied/Referenced
      Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-09 Words: 2339
****** yr body is nothing ******
by gothmorty
Summary
     rick is a dirty old man who can't keep his hands to himself or his
     emotions in control. he should probably stop drinking around this
     poor kid.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
That feeling of immediate regret is how it usually starts. A sinking feeling in
your stomach, rooted deep down inside of your gut because you know whatever's
happening is wrong. It's so, so wrong and you're left there wondering how you
even got yourself in that position. The position in question, to be more
specific, is usually a Morty, either on his knees or laying on his back, bare
skin pressed against the uncomfortably cold pavement of a garage floor while
the older man would be barking demands between sips from a flask.
In most occasions, Rick would be damn near too drunk to function. Stumbling
carelessly with the smaller boy, shaky fingers running up the insides of shirts
and lips pressed against throats. Whenever Morty would start to become
hesitant, or even dare to push against the older man, Rick would only gently
grab at his wrists and start whispering something about how good Morty is
being. Rick would run his fingers through Morty's hair, softly stroke his
cheek; soft, but yet firm enough to forcibly get him to make eye contact while
he hummed coo's of "you're such a... such a good boy, Morty. you're doing such
a great job for me, b-baby. My baby boy."
It was always enough to make Morty stay, for his muscles and limbs to relax
into Rick’s pressing fingers because he absolutely ate that shit up. He loved
it, the rare praise he would receive from Rick, but it was always a constant
battle. Because Rick was almost always too much and he was a ticking time bomb
and Morty spent more time being afraid of the older man than anything else. But
despite all of that, there always seemed to be a constant nagging voice at the
back of Morty's mind, painfully reminding him that if Rick wasn't there with
him, he would be alone. He would have no one, and he didn't want Rick to
leave. 
The thought alone would sometimes even be enough to send a Morty into
submission, literally or figuratively. Would be extra quick to jump to Rick’s
call, as if he couldn’t get his limbs to move fast enough. Anxiety would then
quickly turn to humiliation at just how badly he needed this, he knewhe was
desperate. The thoughts of Rick’s hands sliding up his body as they pleased
would invade his mind, coming at him like knives as Rick would just stare at
him from his work desk, hands and fingers fidgety as they often were. Toying
with a wrench, a spare pen or caressing the curves and edges of his flask as
his eyes would burn holes into the smaller boys frame as he pondered, and those
moments of quiet consideration always seemed to feel like hours.
Rick always knew just exactly how to get under Morty’s skin, because if Rick
was good at anything at all, he was good at reading people. He was good at
gently coaxing whatever it was that he wanted out of them, but maybe he did
have some sort of romantic feelings somewhere for Morty, maybe. It’s not
something he’d allow himself to put a lot of thought into, because, Jesus,
never. God forbid.
All he knew for fact was that he absolutely loved watching Morty’s facial
expression as they changed; the way his eyes would twinkle as they would
whenever Rick was able to sink him into his sub-space with just a few words of
praise or strokes of the hair. How his lips would part, his mouth would go all
slack but yet work just as hard as Rick liked it to whenever he would dare
stick in a few fingers, or even his cock when teasing became too much.
How sometimes, when Rick would purposely pull Morty to the side when he knew
he’d gotten little sleep because he loved how easy it was to coax him into
submission when he was extra sleepy. That, and how everything that they would
do would somehow feel more intimate. He never had to try as hard, and watching
Morty exert every last bit of energy he had left into pleasing him, into doing
whatever it was that he was asked, was fucking beautiful. 
On this particular night, Rick had done just that. He had Morty lay on his
mattress, at this point wearing only the binds that he had sloppily tied around
his wrists -- keeping his hands secure behind his back -- which Morty was too
tired to fight against or object to.
The only light source was coming from the street lights outside and the bright
red LED lights of the alarm clock on Rick's bedside table, which currently read
2:44 AM.It was dark, but Morty's eyes were adjusted enough to watch as Rick
went through the motions of lifting his flask as he took a long pull, then
tossing it back down with a sharp 'clunk!' on the wooden floor, and it was loud
enough to make Morty wince.
The bedroom air was cold, but when Rick pressed his weight back into Morty's
body, taking no hesitation in grabbing a handful of his hair, it all quickly
began to feel much too hot. Rick opened his mouth to speak and the sharp sting
of alcohol on his breath never failed to make Morty’s muscles tense up in
response.
“Ch-Christ, Morty. You, heh... you look like you’re about to pass out. You
gonna pass out on me, Morty?” He tugged at the fistful of hair as he spoke, and
Morty gasped. “You not go-gonna let me have a round two, hm?”
Morty’s head was spinning at his rhetorical question, already filling up with
insecurities, because, yes, Morty was passing out. He was so incredibly
exhausted but he still wanted more than anything to please him, even though
there was always that part of him that reminded him this was wrong. This
shouldn’t be happening, and that he needed to fucking run.His gut ached at the
thought and the confusion Rick always made him feel, but before he could open
his mouth to say a word, Rick continued.
“No matter, though, really. Be-because if I wanted, I-I could just keep going,
yeah? After you fall asleep?” Rick paused to smile grimly at his own
suggestion, free hand roaming down the length of Morty’s front, grazing briefly
over the mess of drying cum just below the boys belly button.
He finally began to continue once his fingers found their way to Morty’s cock,
gently running up and down the shaft as he spoke, this time quieter than before
and all of this was sending shivers up Morty’s spine.
“Would you--... You’d like that, right, baby boy? If I fucked you slowly with
my fingers until you fell asleep, hmm?”
Morty didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until two fingers gently
tapped at his lips, cuing for him to open his mouth. As he did, mostly to
inhale and take in a deep breath, those fingers shoved their way past teeth
just as quickly and Morty whines into them, almost purrs, and Rick can tell by
the twinkle in his eyes that he’s already slipping back into sub-space and he
has to bite his lip to stop himself from breaking character altogether. 
The hand that was still pulling hard at Morty’s hair loosened it’s grip, and
instead began to gently stroke. Pushed his locks neatly back in place as he
tried to focus on keeping his mind calm and collected while he watched Morty
just sink deeper and deeper into sub-space, occasionally letting out soft purrs
around the fingers that were sliding in and out.
“Y-Yeah, fuck. Get those nice and wet for me, baby. I’m gonna be r-real gentle
with you. Grandpa’s gonna take his time with you, Morty. Gonna look after you,
while you sleep. You like being looked after, don’t you, baby?” 
The more Rick cooed at him, the more weightless Morty’s body had felt, almost
as if he was floating. He was beginning to be able to ignore the stabbing ache
in his arms and wrists from the binds and a part of him wanted so badly to hide
his face in Rick’s shoulder because he knew he was blushing, eyes on the verge
of rolling back just from Rick’s words and merciless teasing and it all felt
like it was too much.
Rick’s fingers slowly began to remove themselves from Morty’s mouth, then, a
line of spit connecting from tongue to finger-tip, and Rick hissedat the sight.
“Spread those legs for me, Morty. Be a good boy, yeah... just, fuck.. just like
that.” Rick adjusted himself on the bed as he spoke, moving from his position
that was laying beside the smaller boy on the bed, to propping himself up on
his knees between Morty’s thighs as his one hand wrapped itself behind the
knee-cap of one leg and pushing it up towards Morty’s chest, while the other
hand was making it’s way down to Morty’s still sore hole from the last round.
He began by rubbing slow, soft circles around the hole. Not protruding in, just
teasing and if Morty wasn’t so painfully exhausted, then maybe he would’ve
spoke up, begged for Rick to hurry, or maybe he would’ve tried to move away,
but all of those things required effort and more energy than he had left inside
of him so all he could do was sit there and take it and it hurt.
Even moaning was too much, he couldn’t do it, all the boy could manage was
breathy groans that were barely above a whisper, to which Rick would reward the
boy for by pressing gentle kisses along the insides of his thighs.
Slowly, then, Rick finally, finally inserted one finger all the way to the base
with one single thrust. As he pulled back out, he added a second, thrusting
them in even slower this time and keeping the pace as Morty whined and rocked
his hips against the rhythm of Rick’s fingers the best that he could, and
instead of cursing at him for moving, insisting he stay still while gripping
tightly onto whatever body part he could reach, Rick just let him.
It made Morty wish that he was more awake so he could let himself properly
enjoy this, it was rare when Rick was this slow and patient with him. Usually
when Rick was drunk, it was different, way different. He was more aggressive,
more harsh, sometimes too harsh, and the complete day and night difference in
this Rick made him want to cry.
However, he knew he’d be out any minute, and he was already beginning to go
under due to the soft rhythm of Rick’s fingers, but he wanted to hear his voice
just one more time. He needed it.
“R-Rick...” His voice came out so quiet, he wondered if he even heard him.
Never breaking pace, he leaned forward, planting a kiss on Morty’s cheek before
responding. “Hmm? W-What is it, sleepy boy?”
Morty had to hide his face at that. Exhaustion combined with how deep he had
dug himself into sub-space, he was losing all ability to form a coherent
thought, to even think rationally. Right now Rick was all that mattered to him,
he was everywhere, and he outright needed him to keep speaking to him as he
drifted.
"Did... mmpfh-- I... do a good job..” 
Rick leaned up to press a kiss to Morty’s forehead, careful, so to not disturb
the pace of his fingers, and he could feel his grandson clench around them. He
took a second to smile down at the boy before he spoke.
“Yes, Morty. You’ve done so well for me, baby. Such a b-brave boy, but you
don’t need to think about any of that now. Just relax. I’m here. Go to sleep
for me, baby. You can sleep in here with grandpa tonight.” 
It happened too fast for Morty’s borderline delirious mind to comprehend, but
sometime during his words, Rick’s fingers curled inside of Morty in the exact
way he needed them to, sending him directly over the edge. Morty’s eyes were
closed, but he could himself releasing, liquid shooting over his chest like a
wave before he finally passed out. The last thing he could remember before
falling into sleep was Rick’s lips on his thighs, whispering ‘good boy, so
proud.’ in between kisses.
-
12:50 PM
First thing Morty noticed when he woke -- besides the faint taste of cum in his
mouth, which he immediately figured was best if he didn’t put too much thought
into -- was that his wrists were no longer bound. The pain was mostly subsided
by now, but he’d probably have to pass on any incredibly strenuous activities
for a couple days.
He took a moment to rub at his wrists while he gazed down at Rick, who was
still out like a light. Morty had only just woken up, but the guilt was already
coming at him in waves. Everything around him smelled so strongly of Rick, and
the bruises and aches in his body were because of Rick.
Moving slowly as to not rustle the bed too much, starting with legs, then
shifting his hips, he eventually made his way into a sitting position. Morty
grabbed his clothes before opening the door -- it was a Tuesday and he knew no
one else would be in the house now -- he made a mad dash to the bathroom,
slamming the door behind him.
As he dressed, he made deliberate effort to not look at the mirror. The last
person he wanted to look at right now was himself. The boy fought back a hiss
as he used his sore shoulders to lift his shirt over his head. 
Once he was completely dressed and out of the bathroom, he knew that all he
wanted to do was to go back to bed and let himself forget about this for a few
hours.
End Notes
     hey! so i'm pretty new at writing fics overall. i've posted a couple
     to my tumblr already, but this one, is, like, i reeaally wanna go
     somewhere with this one. my original goal was to just let myself
     explore and experiment with how i personally view their dynamic but
     as i kept writing i started imagining different scenarios in my head
     and i kept getting ideas for them and basically, i wanna see how many
     chapters i can squeeze outta this.
     i've never posted to AO3 before, like i'm reaaally new to this whole
     scene. but i'm so grateful for those of you who have shown interest
     in my bullshit so far and i definitely wanna keep at it for a little
     while.
     fic title is a song by boy harsher and completely unrelated. but it's
     good, check it out if you want.
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2-nBOvcOls
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