Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/5154197. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Rick_and_Morty Relationship: Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith Additional Tags: Daddy_Kink, Dirty_Talk, Dom/sub, Sub_Rick, Spanking, Impact_Play, Blow Jobs, Underage_Sex, Grandparent/Grandchild_Incest Stats: Published: 2015-11-06 Words: 1923 ****** Balance and Break ****** by yiffymorty Summary Rick needs someone to put him in his place, and Morty takes on the challenge. Notes Alternate title: Grandpa's Teen Dad. props to saggydickbeans for the idea! I saw it and had to write the shit out of it, so technically they're to blame for this :Y and a HUGE thanks to my fantastic beta! <3 See the end of the work for more notes Morty is lounging in front of the TV after school, flipping through the channels with overall disinterest when he hears a loud bang coming from outside. He leaps off the couch and rushes into the garage. “Wh-wh-what the hell is going on, Rick? Are you okay?” Rick looks at him while he scrapes some congealing, colorless goop off his face. The same material splatters the work bench, floor, and walls, dripping onto shelves and burning holes through cardboard boxes. Steam rises from the viscous liquid and Morty twists his face. It smells like stale smoke, saturated with a sour odor. “Yeah, M-Morty, this is what happens when you try and take the cheap route—always bu-UUGH-y the good stuff, Morty, or you’re gonna get some knock- off shit. Understand, Morty?” “Yeah, Rick, I understand that you just blew up some uh, some shit after mom and dad told you not to, y-y’know, make explosions and stuff in here,” scolds Morty. “Ohhh, since when was it your turn to look after me, Mo-OURGH-rty?” Rick turns in his chair to stare at his grandson. “Dad is always trying to get you in trouble for something, and I don’t want you to—” Morty looks down at his feet and kicks away a stray bolt, “I mean, y-you can’t just blow stuff up in the house, Rick! It-it-it-it’s common sense.” “So you’re the expert on c-c-common sense, now, Morty? You sound like your dad. Sh-sh-sh-should I call you that from now on, Morty?” Rick’s voice changes pitch, mocking him, “’I’m so sorry about the mess, daddy. Please punish me a-a- a-and I’ll never do it again!’” Morty feels something unfamiliar stir inside himself. He knows Rick is fucking with him, but he feels hot, and his better judgment is temporarily impaired by the sheer level of arousal in his gut. “Say that again,” demands Morty. There is no fooling Rick anymore; he stands, approaches Morty and bends down to eye- level. “I said,” he starts, very slowly, “Please, daddy, I want you to punish me.” Morty stumbles backwards, almost losing his balance before Rick grabs the front of his shirt. “So y-y-y-you’ve got a daddy kink, eh, Morty? You like to hear an old man calling you his father?” Morty knows what a daddy kink is, and also that he might have one. The difference is the man he wants to call him “daddy” is decades his senior. “Shut up, Rick!” shouts Morty, slapping Rick’s hand away, “I’m gonna—I’m really gonna have to punish you for all this.” “Th-this is gonna be interesting,” scoffs Rick, “The only thing y-OUUGH-ou’ll ever punish is your own dick.” Morty glares. “You’re gonna wish you never said that.” Rick opens his mouth, but Morty jabs a finger into Rick’s chest. “First of all, good boys don’t t- talk back,” says Morty, sizing Rick up, “A-a-and bad boys get spanked.” The color drains from Rick’s face. He can’t believe what he’s hearing—his puny little grandson threatening to spank him for being a bad boy. He feels a little tug at his heart, one that makes him bow his head in quickly rising shame. “Go to your room,” says Morty, grinning when Rick actually slinks off into the house. He gives the man a few minutes before following after him. Morty is pleased to find Rick naked and seated on the edge of his bed, looking at him in wait. Morty sits down next to him, leans over, and kisses his cheek. “I’ll treat you really good i-if you listen to me,” says Morty, nibbling Rick’s earlobe. But the affection is short-lived—Morty stopping the action to pat his lap, beckoning Rick over. “B-but first I’m gonna teach you to l-listen when I say you can’t blow up—blow stuff up in the garage.” “Y-yeah, daddy?” challenges Rick, settling across Morty’s lap with his ass in the air, “How about I do whatever the fuck I want, since technically, all of- of-of-of—all that stuff in there is mine.” “Oh boy, you’re gonna get it now, y-y-you little sh-shit,” stammers Morty with impressive authority. He brings his hand down and firmly smacks Rick’s ass. The old man yelps in surprise; he’s almost in awe that Morty had actually hit him. “Technically, all of this”, Morty growls, roughly squeezing each cheek at a time,”is mine. I’m gonna turn that ass red, Rick. Y-y-y-you’re not gonna be able to sit for a week!” Rick chuckles at the kid’s cheesy lines, but still shivers at Morty’s threat. “What are you waiting for, then, M-Morty—” “Hey!” snaps Morty, giving Rick another harsh slap on the ass. Rick whimpers. “D-don’t mess up again, you hear me?” “S-sorry, daddy,” mutters Rick into the bed. “So, about your punishment,” continues Morty, “You’re gonna count b-backwards from ten.” “Really, Mor—r-really, daddy? That’s all you got? I-I bet you fuck with the lights off, too, you old vanilla bitch.” “Wh-wh-wh-what, you want me to raise it to—raise it to fifty? Jeez, you’re really eager for your punishment, huh, Rick? You got a pain kink or something? Y-y-y-you like it when your daddy spanks your ass?” “Fuck yeah, I do,” groans Rick, wiggling his hips. Under all the stuttering, Morty is actually pretty damn good at talking dirty to him. “A-alright, Rick, you asked for it,” says Morty, bringing a hand down on Rick’s left ass cheek. Rick bites his tongue but can’t hold back a tiny moan. “Fifty,” says Rick, quickly remembering Morty’s instructions. As soon as he does, Morty slaps Rick’s right cheek this time. He alternates, left and right, and Rick counts every one. “Fourty-five, fourty-three, f-fourty-two...” When Rick gets to twenty, Morty pauses. His hand feels numb and Rick’s ass is bright red on both sides. “Y-you okay, Rick?” questions Morty. Rick hums contentedly. His ass stings like hell, but the only thing his brain can do is keep track of counting. Morty shakes the tingling sensation out of his hand and resumes his assault on Rick’s ass. “Twelve, eleven...” “Just ten more to go, baby, you’re doing great,” encourages Morty, his palm burning. Rick’s voice is reduced to little whimpers, fumbling words past his lips. “Four, th-three, two...” Morty raises his hand above his head and brings it down with all he’s got. Rick cries out and hisses, cringing away from Morty’s hand. “O-o-one!” sobs Rick, tears flowing down his face. By the time Morty is finished, they’re both red faced, sweaty and panting. Rick’s ass feels like it’s on fire, but he is fully hard, his erection pressing against Morty’s thigh. “You’re sick,” spits Morty, reaching under Rick and palming his crotch, “Getting off on your punishment, it-it-it-it’s disgusting.” “I’m sick, daddy? I can feel your d-dick poking me in the fucking stomach.” Morty scowls. “If you don’t watch your language, I-I-I’m gonna have to clean out your filthy mouth.” “Heh, do you worst, you fucking bastard,” sneers Rick, baring his teeth. Morty frowns. “Get on your knees, Rick.” Rick climbs off Morty’s lap and kneels submissively between the kid’s legs. He has a good idea of what Morty wants him to do, and he licks his lips in preparation. “Good,” coos Morty. He goes for his fly and pulls his dick out, sighing when his erection springs free from the elastic of his underwear. “I-I’m gonna—I’m gonna fuck that dirty mouth, Rick, I’m gonna fill your mouth with so much cum, y-you won’t be able to talk back to me. Open up,” commands Morty, pumping himself a few times. Rick looks up at him in disbelief but with admiration. He sticks out his tongue and goes right for the head, taking Morty into his mouth and listening to the boy gasp. He swirls his tongue around the tip a few times, pulling a couple of long moans out of Morty. It’s hard to keep his hands off his own dick, but Morty hasn’t given permission yet—god, what the fuck is this kid doing to him? Morty grabs both sides of Rick’s head as he starts gently moving in and out. Rick’s mouth is hot and wet, and Morty finds it difficult to keep a steady rhythm. Thankfully, Rick picks up the pace, bobbing his head up and down and taking in more of Morty’s cock. “Gonna c-c-c—” wheezes Morty, loosening his grip so that Rick can speak if he wants to. Rick backs up and wipes a string of drool from his chin. He grins up at Morty. “G-gonna cum down my throat, daddy?” Morty takes his cock in hand and smacks Rick on the cheek. “Yeah, baby,” he says, gruffly, “You can touch yourself now, Rick, you earned it.” Rick grips his aching cock and brings himself to the edge of climax, waiting for Morty’s budding orgasm to reach its peak. Morty grabs the back of Rick’s head and thrusts once more before spilling into the old man’s mouth. Rick cums hard in his hand soon after, gagging wetly around Morty’s length but he takes all of it, swallowing as it hits the back of his throat. After what seems like forever, Morty pulls out. Rick can’t help but feel empty—not that he needs a cock in his mouth all the time, but sucking Morty off had been....refreshing. He rests his head on the bed between Morty’s knees, nuzzling the kid’s balls with his nose and pressing his cheek into Morty’s sweaty thigh. “This is what a good boy looks like,” says Morty, running his fingers through Rick’s hair. “I wish y-you could see yourself right now, baby. Wh-who knew it would take my load down your throat to make you behave.” Rick is content to sit there silently, obediently, but Morty pushes him away all too quickly. “Go take a sh-shower, Rick, you’re a fucking mess.” “Yes, daddy,” Rick says quietly. He stands on shaky legs and heads to the bathroom to take a shower. Morty is still in the bedroom when Rick returns with only a towel around his hips. The boy lazes on Rick’s bed in his boxers and one of Rick’s old t-shirts. “M-Morty?” Rick says with uncertainty. “H-hey, Rick,” greets Morty, and Rick sighs. He isn’t sure how long he could play this game, so he’s relieved that things have gone back to normal. He flings the towel aside and climbs into bed next to Morty, pulling the sheets up over them both. “So, um, was that okay?” asks Morty, a little timidly, “Th-the whole thing, I mean—I-I didn’t give you much warning, a-and we didn’t really talk about it, so—” “Shhh, Morty,” Rick snuggles closer to his grandson. “It was good—great, Morty, it was great. That was exactly what I needed.” “Really?” questions Morty, a bit surprised. “Sometimes,” starts Rick, “I need—I w-want someone to put me in my place.” Morty laughs weakly, “Y-y-you, Rick? Who do you want to put you in your place, huh?” Rick scrubs his hands down his face as if he can somehow rub the blush off his cheeks. “You, Morty,” he says, but when Morty’s expression doesn’t change, Rick corrects himself. “You, daddy,” he says. Morty smiles at that. By tomorrow their usually dynamic should return, and they might not speak about it for a while, but seeing Rick’s reaction to a dominant side Morty never knew he had makes the boy want to do it again even more. “Goodnight, Rick,” says Morty, unknowing that Rick has already fallen asleep. End Notes find me on tumblr @ yiffymorty! Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!