Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5868541.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Rough_Sex, Daddy_Kink, weapon_play, Blood_Play
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-31 Words: 2700
****** A Hunger Never Satisfied ******
by angelofthetrench
Summary
     Miami AU. Rick deals out the ultimate punishment to anyone who double
     crosses him, and Morty loves to watch as the man becomes feral and
     bloodied.
Notes
     This is influenced by the Miami AU I (wubbalubbabullshit.tumblr.com)
     and rois-demain (also at .tumblr.com) came up with! If you have any
     questions about it, please feel free to go ask us there, or comment
     below.
     The song title is taken from Chelsea Wolfe's song "The Color Of
     Blood."
     Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Morty’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated as he watched Rick take his revenge.
These men had thought they could get away with cheating him, with stealing a
bit of the profit from a drug deal. Morty thought they had to be the stupidest
men on earth.
 
The smell of iron wafted through the air, swirling, teasing. There was the
sound of metal colliding with flesh, an agonizing scream, and then whimpering
pleas for mercy. A few more firm hits, a few more bones breaking beneath Rick’s
brass knuckles, and the screams turned into moans before becoming echos and
vanishing completely. Rick straightened to his full height, cracked his
knuckles, then slowly turned to face Morty. The boy felt his heart stop and his
breath catch as he took in the sight before him.
 
Rick’s hair was a mess, his clothes disheveled, he was breathing hard and there
was blood splattered on his face and neck. He looked like a wild animal, his
teeth bared, an awful smile coming to his lips. Without hesitation Morty went
to him, his whole body trembling, feeling weak in the older man’s presence. He
took one of Rick’s hands, holding it in both of his, examining the bruised
knuckles, the brass weapon, and the blood. He knew what Rick wanted him to do
and so he did it, bending his head, tongue darting out to taste the dead man’s
blood, cleaning Rick’s dirty hand. “That’s my baby,” The older man purred, and
Morty felt as if he was going to die. “Y-you like watching me don’t you. You’re
fucking sick, Morty,” The boy shivered at the insults, nodding, standing on his
tiptoes, trying to reach Rick’s neck and the blood that was drying there. He
was sick, so sick, but he was desperate for the man. He was always burning
after he watched Rick fight, after he saw the drug lord take down his enemies.
It broke something in Morty, it terrified and excited him that he laid with a
man who had such power, who got to choose who lived and who died.  It thrilled
him to know that such a man not only let him live, but loved him.
 
Rick laughed at Morty’s attempts before grabbing his neck, stilling the boy.
“Ask properly,” Rick’s voice was a growl, threatening, dominating. Morty
whimpered, his hips bucking into the air, he was already hard from having
watched the massacre. “Please d-daddy, please can I,” Morty felt like he
couldn’t finish, his mouth was dry and he was dizzy, “Just let me, let me
fucking kiss you, J-Jesus,” Morty huffed, and he knew at once he had made a
mistake. Rick’s eyes narrowed and in this state, after a kill, he was dangerous
even to Morty. And the kid loved it. All the youth could do was whimper an
apology, but Rick didn’t give him a second chance.
 
There was a sharp pain as Morty hit the floor, his eyes swimming with stars.
Rick was on top of him by the time he regained his senses, and the boy could
feel cold metal pressing into his skull. “Come on, M-Morty, you know better
than to talk to me like that.  Maybe I need to teach you a lesson, help you
remember your manners,” Rick was dragging the brass knuckles down Morty’s face,
making a slow, long line from his temple to his jaw. The boy was shaking,
unable to control himself, he could feel the blood beneath them on the floor,
still warm from the traitors, and knowing that the weapon had just killed six
people made Morty’s heart race. “I-I’m sorry, please forgive me,” He begged,
squirming until he felt Rick’s hand close around his throat again, this time
pressing hard, the metal digging into his windpipe.
 
Morty couldn’t breath, his mouth hung open but the air wouldn’t reach his
lungs, yet despite this a smile formed. Rick leaned down and kissed him deeply,
stealing the last of the boy’s breath as he bit his lower lip. Morty saw
blackness on the edge his world, he wouldn’t last much longer, and he could
hear Rick chuckling softly before he released his throat, and air came rushing
in with a loud gasp and cough. “You’re a sick little fuck, kid. Look, look at
you…” The man reached down, grabbing the bulge that had formed in Morty’s
golden shorts. The boy moaned, bucking into the contact, his eyes roaming down
Rick’s form as a defiant grin settled on his face. “Looks l-like, like I’m not
the only sick one here,” he mocked, moving his knee so it brushed against
Rick’s growing erection, savoring the way the older man couldn’t stifle his
moan. Morty felt a small victory until he saw Rick’s eyes, which were thirsty
for blood and control. The man raised his hand, the gold of his weapons
flashing in the light, and Morty screamed as Rick brought his first downwards.
 
However, the hit didn’t land, Rick stopped himself only a few centimeters away
from Morty’s ribs, chuckling softly. Morty has arched up in anticipation of the
blow, as if asking for it, and when it wasn’t received he whimpered softly,
eyes slowly opening. “You’re gonna pay for that comment, you little slut,” Rick
promised, uncurling his fist, moving to claw the boy’s sides, dragging his
fingers down, letting them dig into his raised hipbones. Morty was moaning
beneath him, squirming, and Rick leaned forward so his lips were right against
the shell of his ear, “Stop moving.” Morty couldn’t stop shaking, though he
tried, and Rick’s nails dug into his hip bones, forcing him to still. “I don’t
think I c-can—ah!” Morty was unable to finish as Rick pressed his thumbs into
the hollows of his hips, the pressure making the youth arch. “Well,” Rick’s
voice was still a whisper, “You better learn to control your body in the next
few seconds, baby, or this is gonna be, this is gonna end bad.”
 
Rick reached into his coat pocket and removed an item, but from his position
Morty couldn’t tell what it was until he heard a soft click. It was Rick’s
knife, the same one Morty had seen him use to cut out tongues and gouge out
eyes, and the violence of the object made the boy shift, until he remembered
Rick’s words. He tried to steady himself, to even his breathing, but his eyes
locked onto Rick. “Oh God, Rick, I mean-I mean d-daddy, please, I’m sorry,” The
boy was truly frightened, but he could feel his cock twitching, aroused by the
threat, by the unknown. Was the man going to mark him, stab him, or something
worse? He didn’t know, but he felt his face flush and it took all his strength
to keep his hips from thrusting up, to keep his body from shaking with
anticipation. “Sh, baby, you know I gotta teach you a lesson. But you’re doing
g-good, Morty, keeping yourself nice and still for me,” Rick almost seemed to
coo, tracing the tip of the knife along the boy’s sensitive stomach, the blade
so well sharpened that even this light pressure broke skin and drew small beads
of blood. Morty couldn’t help the yelp that escaped him, but he held his body,
refusing to move, refusing to buck up into the sweet sting, knowing one wrong
move could end in a great deal of damage.
 
“Good boy Morty,” Rick breathed out the words, tracing the knife in small
circles above Morty’s waistband. “Now, who do you belong to? W-who owns you
baby?”
 
“Y-you do, daddy! You, you own me, I’m yours, all yours.” Morty stammered out,
his head swimming as Rick leaned down, dragging his tongue across the open
wounds, lapping up his blood. “Now,” Rick continued, “What do you have to say
for your behavior?” Rick questioned, re-positioning his knife at Morty’s
throat. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being such a spoiled little brat, daddy. P-
please forgive me.” Rick smiled at the boy’s words, withdrawing the knife.
“Apology accepted,” he said pleasantly.
 
Morty felt he wouldn’t be able to take much more of this, his little shorts
were starting to feel terribly confining. Rick seemed to sense this, seemed to
know exactly what Morty needed, and he moved the knife so it was under one of
the leg holes of his shorts. “For being a good boy I’ll give you a treat. Don’t
breath,” Rick warned, before he ripped the cloth in one swift motion, the knife
making quick work of the fabric. He moved to the other side and cut, before
ripping what was left of the shorts off, grinning as Morty gasped beneath him.
The boy was completely exposed now, hard and leaking. Rick reached out a
teasing finger, tracing the head and slit, watching as Morty moaned beneath
him, finally giving in and allowing his body to move again with the threat of
the knife gone, his little hips shifting, seeking more contact, more friction,
more anything. Well, Rick would give it to him.
 
Rick wrapped his hand, which was still clad in the brass knuckle, around the
boy’s cock, watching as Morty hissed, as he stilled his body once more. The
boy’s flesh was burning, begging, and Rick couldn’t help but smile as he
tightened his grip, letting the cold metal press into the sensitive skin,
loving how Morty whined, how the tears pooled at his eyes. He knew he wasn’t
hurting him, not yet, but it was the threat that was giving the boy so much
pleasure, giving him those tears. “W-want me to jerk you off, Morty? Want me to
rub your cock raw?” Rick question, his thumb rolling over the head as his hand
moved slightly, just enough to make Morty scream his reply, “No! Please, n-no,
I-I-” Rick loved how Morty was losing it, how he was having a hard time
speaking. It sent a jolt of electricity through him, and the man gave the boy’s
cock another tug, causing Morty to throw his head back as the metal rubbed
against him. “You’re not really convincing me, baby,” Rick chided, and Morty
shook his head, trying to calm himself. He made another attempt at speaking,
“I’d rather….I’d rather y-you…” But again Morty couldn’t seem to focus,
couldn’t seem to finish. He was starting to need contact desperately, even if
it was this, even if it wasn’t what he really wanted. Rick moved his hand again
and the touch was starting to become painful in the best of ways. “Say it
Morty, say what you fucking want or I’m gonna keep this up,” He was about to
move again when Morty stopped him, reaching his hand out to grab Rick’s wrist.
“T-take me, fucking take me,” The kid begged, and Rick leaned down, giving him
a quick kiss. “That’s my boy,” He said simply, removing his hand from Morty’s
member, which was still hard and twitching despite the abuse. Rick grabbed the
boy, easily pulling him so he was on his knees. The man kissed him roughly
while he undid his own pants, freeing his aching cock. “Get on your hands and
knees and suck me.” Rick ordered, his voice almost calm, watching as Morty did
as told. The kid knew better than to bother with foreplay, he immediately took
Rick into his mouth, moaning around him as he began to bob his head, well
trained throat easily able to take him. Rick enjoyed the sensation for a
moment, moving into the heat, loving the way Morty moaned and gagged around
him, the way he worked so hard to please him. The older man ran a hand through
the boy’s hair, giving him a few words of praise, the gentle nature of it all
in stark contrast to the blood and death around them, to the way Morty was
whimpering around the cock in his mouth. After a moment Rick reached into his
coat, pulling out a bottle of lube and slicking his fingers. He warmed the
liquid in his hands before reaching out, using one hand to spread Morty’s ass
while the other teased his entrance, index finger circling the small hole.
Morty cried out, his voice stifled from the other man, and Rick could feel the
boy’s throat tightening, feel him attempt to swallow. It was amazing how he was
still so sensitive, so responsive, after all he had been through, after how
many times they had done this. Slowly Rick slipped a finger inside, loving how
tight Morty was, how hot, how readily he bucked back onto the digit. They went
on like this for a while, Rick adding two fingers, and then three, until Morty
was losing it, until he couldn’t stop moaning, and Rick couldn’t take it
anymore.
 
When the fingers left him Morty whimpered, but the sound quickly melted into a
yelp as his hair was grabbed and he was pulled off Rick’s cock. “Turn around,
ass up in the air.” His voice was curt, betraying his current state, and Morty
smiled, quickly doing as told. He pressed his face into the cold ground,
inhaling the scent of blood, licking his lips as he wiggled his hips, putting
on a show for the man. He reached his hands back and spread himself, smiling as
he heard Rick take in a sharp breath. “L-like what you see?” Morty’s voice was
light and teasing, the smile was obvious in his words. He loved that he could
drive Rick crazy, that in his own way he could tame the man, bend him to his
will. “You have no f-fucking idea, baby,” The honesty in Rick’s voice, the way
Morty could feel him admiring him, it was driving the boy insane, and it took
all his restraint not to beg. He knew the man enjoyed observing his property,
and who was Morty to deny him what he wanted? But Rick wasn’t able to stand it
much longer himself, and after only a few more seconds of admiring his boy he
grabbed Morty’s hips and positioned himself at his entrance. He didn’t hover
there long, instead he shoved himself inside, drawing a scream from the boy
beneath him. Rick set up a relentless pace, slamming into his whore, drawing
moans and shrieks of pleasure from the youth. They were beyond speech now,
Morty wailing and Rick making feral growls and moans as he grabbed Morty’s hair
and pulled, forcing him to lift is head, to expose his neck, which Rick grabbed
with his other hand. He pulled Morty up to his knees by the neck, angling so he
was hitting the youth’s sweet spot. Rick’s shirt was stained with the blood
from Morty’s back, but he didn’t care, if anything it only fueled his lust, and
the man bit into the brunette’s shoulder, feeling Morty jerk beneath him,
unable to move from the hand still wrapped around his throat. Rick could feel
himself getting close, so he reached down and began to jerk Morty off in time
to his thrusts as he continued to bite and kiss the junction of Morty’s
shoulder and neck. Soon the boy was trying to speak, trying to stammer out, “I-
I’m gonna, g-gonna–” But Rick only began to thrust harder, deeper, feeling the
boy clench around him, feeling him spill into his hand, and Rick wasn’t far
behind, emptying himself inside of the youth, a final moan escaping his lips.
 
They collapsed into a heap on the floor, limbs tangling, breathing ragged,
content to rest for a moment in dried blood and their own filth. For a time
there was nothing but silence, until Morty curled in on himself, his hand
clutching Rick’s as if suddenly afraid. “H-hey,” the boy began, and Rick opened
his eyes. “Hm?” The older man grunted, still finding he didn’t have the will to
form words. “Never…n-never leave me, o-ok daddy?” Morty’s voice was just a
whisper,  but Rick could hear the fear, the desperation in it. He pulled the
kid closer, kissing the back of his neck before burying his face in the boy’s
sweaty hair, “Of course, baby, of course. I’ll always be here.”
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