Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13738764.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  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), Male_Slash, Rick_and_Morty_Month_of
      Sin_Challenge, Bondage, Master/Pet, Dom/sub
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-19 Updated: 2018-03-02 Chapters: 3/? Words: 8101
****** Rickdiculous Relations ******
by gothmorty, MortiestMorty
Summary
     Something has happened to Jessica and Morty needs Rick's help to
     figure out what's going on, but things aren't quite as they seem.
Notes
     Hello! I'm "ohgeezmortiestmortyohgeez" on tumblr and this story is an
     ongoing RP with "gothmorty" which you can also find on tumblr as
     gothmorty! We hope you enjoy this story as much as we enjoy writing
     it, so without further ado, here ya go! :P
***** Mission Jessica *****
“Rick!”  Morty called, his voice frantic and crackling a little when he
stumbled into the house, almost tripping over himself on the way inside. He
messily tossed his backpack onto the floor as he slammed the door shut, his
heart was racing and he didn’t know what to do. As much as he hated relying on
his grandpa sometimes, this was an emergency, and he knew if anyone could help,
it had to be him, and he didn’t care what kind of mood he was in to do so, this
was something that needed to happen.
“Morty, hey, is something wrong?” Morty barely gave his mom a passing glance,
despite how startled she had looked and sounded. It was nothing against her,
but she was useless in this situation. So was his dad or his sister for that
matter, neither of whom were present in the living room. Who knows where they
were, and who cares at the moment? Not him! He’s got other things to care
about.
Making his way straight for the garage, he figured he had the best chances of
finding his grandpa Rick there first. Sure enough, Rick was found busying
himself with something when Morty made his way inside. 
The abrupt break in concentration due to the slamming of the door against the
garage walls upon Morty’s arrival rattled not only the nearby shelves, but
Rick’s insides. He gasped and swallowed a heavy sigh of frustration as a glass
vial fell from his hands and onto the floor. 
“God, fuckin', Morty you’re goddamn lucky nothing toxic or, or poisonous was in
that vial.” He turned in his stool as he spoke, sweeping the shards of broken
glass under the desk with his foot, he’ll probably get to it later. “What do
you want? I could hear your little ass screaming from, since the second you
walked through the front door.”
Ordinarily Morty might have apologized for causing Rick a little trouble, even
at times he wasn’t directly at fault, but he had a one track mind at the
moment. He wasn’t going to get distracted. Bigger things were at stake here,
and he needed to get right to the point. Sure, maybe he was being a little
dramatic, but he figured his reasons were at least valid enough.
“It’s Jessica! It’s Jessica, Rick!” Morty had to put his hand over his heart,
he had ran all the way home causing it to pound pretty hard. His mind was
racing with horrible scenarios; after all the shit he’s seen, anything was
always possible, right? Not to mention, most of these scenarios were hardly
ever good! “We, we gotta find Jessica! She’s— she's gone missing!" With a
worried groan, he put his hands on his head, trying to think of what could have
happened to her; struggling to calm down a little so he could think more
rationally, maybe come up with a plan.
Rick took a moment to tap his fingers quizzically against the surface of his
desk, looking at Morty through a hard expression of narrowed eyes and pursed
lips. Studying. He huffed before rolling his eyes and scooting himself away
from the desk, moving over to the shelf to pick up an item that had dropped,
bumping shoulders with Morty as he made his way by, not apologizing even as he
felt the boy's weight shift, making him lose his balance a little.
"Yeah, whatever, Morty. Listen, sure she’s, I’m sure she’s fine, alright? Maybe
she’s sick. Got the flu or, or something, yeah?” Rick paused from going through
the motions of cleaning and reorganizing his shelf as he turned to face the
teenager that was still standing behind him, the look of desperation in his
eyes making Rick’s own roll almost painfully back into his skull.
Morty’s fingers flexed into fists anxiously at his sides. Every second counted,
and here Rick was, not taking him seriously! They were wasting so much time
sitting here going back and forth like this. “No, she’s not sick, Rick! I, I
mean I thought she was at first, and, and that’s why she’s been gone, but
that’s not—“
Rick interrupted the boy with a huff, clearly annoyed. Moving over so that he
was looming over Morty as he spoke, his arms had crossed over his chest and the
look that had rested there on his face was almost eerily cold and certain. “You
know what, Morty? Wanna know what I think? Maybe she got sick of dealing with
you staring at her tits every half-chance you get. She probably got sooo sick,
Morty.. so sick that she had to call in! I don’t think anybody would be
surprised. Frankly, I don’t think anyone would blame her.”
Morty found himself being visibly taken aback, fighting back a blush. Rick was
really laying it onto him, and if not for his own concerns for Jessica, he
might have put his metaphorical tail between his legs and sulked off, but not
this time. Besides, this absolutely wasn't fair, Morty felt he treated Jessica
with respect! Right? He didn’t… didn’t ALWAYS stare at her tits.
...Right?
Regardless, he wasn't going to sit here and waste more time trying to justify
himself.
“What, what the hell, Rick? I always help you on, on your adventures, don't I?
It always has to be a fight, huh? Whenever I need something? This, this isn’t
even really about me. I-I-It’s about Jessica!" His face began to scrunch up the
longer he found himself ranting, he couldn't believe he had to stand there and
put so much effort into convincing Rick to help him with something that was so
obviously important; but then again, it's honestly probably what he should have
expected. He always found himself letting his high expectations get the best of
him around Rick, only for him to push them all back down with a firey
aftermath.
Morty shook his head, as if desperately trying to shake out of his train of
thought and stay on track. "No, Rick. We’re going to find her, and bring her
back! You and me. I, I'm putting my foot down on this one!” Morty stood firm,
even began mocking his grandpa as he crossed his own arms over his chest,
standing as tall as his tiny frame would allow.
“Fine. Yes, Morty. I do drag you along with me on my adventures and I do expect
you to have at least half the amount of required brain power it takes to be..
to be fuckin’ grateful and appreciative. Why? Because my fuckin’.. my
adventures don’t revolve around getting, getting inside of Jessica’s pants,
Morty.” His hands moved down to his hips, pressing firm fingers into the rough,
worn cloth of his trousers, the muscles in his hands flexing almost angrily as
Morty just fucking kept on.
“And don’t you fuckin’, don’t even dare act like that isn’t what this is about.
You’re as brain dead and as transparent as a dead body, Morty. Got about the
same personality as one, too. But you know what? I’ll, I’ll fuckin’ prove to
you that Jessica is, that she’s okay. Will that make you happy, you little
brat? Will it make you shut the fuck up?”
Morty relaxed his arms, letting them fall back down to his sides. He wasn’t
about to admit to anything selfish right now, when he felt he was being the
self-less one here, trying to find Jessica and all. NOT because of the reasons
Rick kept trying to hint towards. He really did care about her. Why couldn’t
his grandpa just do this for him? But it seemed he had finally gotten him to
accept the task.
Morty’s eyes lit up but he still looked pretty beaten up emotionally from
Rick’s tangents. He nodded, at least happy that Rick seemed to be giving in.
“Oh yeah, so happy Rick. I’ll shut right the fuck up. Geez, could have just
saved us both time and done this first, huh?” Morty said dryly, sarcastically.
Rick looked at Morty through narrowed eyes, flask still in hand as he studied
his body language. Watched how Morty’s shoulders drooped, how his eyes and the
corners of his mouth followed the same motion. Defeat? There was the slightest
twinge in Rick’s stomach, an unnerving twist of nerves and muscle deep down
that made his own lips pull up ever so slightly into a snarl. Not angry, but
maybe the slightest bit guilty. Before he let himself fester on the emotion too
much, let it eat at him, he went through the motions of neatly putting his
flask back into that same pocket of his lab coat before getting down to his
knees in front of Morty, getting down to eye level.
If he wanted Morty to trust him, he decided he would have to try and at least
speak to the boy in his language. He would channel some of his negative
feelings into turning this whole thing around, by turning it into a lesson.
“Who.. who knows, right Morty? Maybe I’m— hey, maybe I’m wrong about you,
little guy. Got more, heh, you got more fight in you than you used to, that’s
for sure. Wonder who you could’ve gotten that one from.” He took a moment to
smile warmly at the boy before his expression changed just as quickly, to
something much darker and more serious.
“But you have to listen to me, alright? Whatever… no matter what happens out
there, I mean, like I said, Morty — I’m sure she’s fine. But regardless, no
matter what you see, what we find out, I’ll be there for you. Not everyone in
life is, uh, gonna be as… persistent, in that fact, as I am.”
Clearing his throat, Rick moved back to his feet as quickly as his old bones
would allow in the same motion. Hesitantly, but with the lightest amount of
pressure, he placed his hand onto Morty’s back, gently leading him to the ship.
“Now, lets go uh, try and find Jessica, yeah?”
Rick’s change in demeanor and tone calmed Morty relatively quickly. Shortly
after though, Morty found himself getting impatient and more anxious again..
for Jessica’s sake. He didn’t need to be consoled now, he needed action!
Knowing his gramps was on his side now though gave him more relief. He sighed,
“Aw gee Rick, what do you think happened?” Well whatever it was, it looked like
they were about to find out. He let Rick guide him to the ship where he’d
clumsily climb aboard and buckle up. If someone took Jessica, Morty would make
sure they pay for it!
Rick shut the ship’s door after Morty, and made his way to the driver’s side as
he stole another sip from his flask. Neglecting to buckle his own self in, his
fingers instead were tapping at a few buttons, opening the garage door and
roaring the ship to life, lifting them up in the air.
He took a moment to think about Morty’s question, weighed his options. He could
have said about 4 different things that would’ve only upset Morty, and maybe 2
things that could’ve given him a false sense of hope. However, only one thing
could spill from his lips that would be the truth, Rick knew this, and he knew
that Morty wouldn’t be happy about it to hear it.
He also knew that if he had taken Morty out far enough away from everything
else before he told him the truth, he at least wouldn’t be able to cause a
scene. Could keep him under control, if he dared to become frantic and loud.
Rick’s eyes grew dark, a part of him kind of liked this scenario he had set up.
Playing Morty like a fuckin’ fiddle. How Morty always seemed to be the one
giving over control, whether or not it was intentional wasn’t the point
Rick rubbed his temples as he tried to come up with a quick, improvised
response, realizing that he still hadn’t answered Morty’s pressing question. He
decided to poke some fun. 
“Heh, who knows, Morty, huh? Maybe she’s.. ha, maybe she got abducted by uh, a
bunch of aliens. Getting her ass probed, perhaps? I mean, we’ve all been there,
right?” He snorted.
Pan to Morty, and his lips were pursed in an angry, disapproving jut, giving
Rick a look that was most certainly a warning. Damn it, he didn’t need to
imagine Jessica being probed by anyone other than him—erm, or ya know, no
aliens! Involuntary probing! That’s just not what Morty wanted to think about
right now.
Morty let the look sink in for a moment, not even honoring Rick with a frantic
response. Rather, he’d quickly change the subject altogether to save his nerves
some stress. “Do I really need to — I don’t know, explain again how serious
this all is, Rick? D-Don’t you even want to know like.. how I know? Ya know? I
mean, it turned out she’s been missing for days! I’ve got some evidence here!
Shouldn’t we be looking at those facts? Interrogating her friends or something?
How do we even know where to go? Where are we going exactly?” He glanced back
out the window but they haven’t traveled far enough yet for him to make any
sort of speculations.
Rick hadn’t noticed he had been squeezing the steering wheel of his ship until
the joints in his fingers started to ache and his knuckles were pure white. It
was so tiring, so draining to constantly listen to his grandson talk about
this… Jessica. If she was ever anything at all she was a fucking distraction,
screwing up their dynamic, messing up their flow. Rick would hardly be Rick at
all if he hadn’t… done something about it.
Pondering, Rick decided and realized his little plan was slowly coming into
play.
He removed the flask from his coat pocket once more, chugging the half empty
container until it was empty. Not even missing a beat, he reached behind his
seat to grab for an unlabeled bottle, filling up the flask before replacing the
lid while he spoke. “Just relax, M-Morty. Trust me, alright? I know where we’re
going. Have I ever taken you out to my off-planet security room?”
Morty blinked, giving him a curious look. “Off-planet security… room?” Nope, he
can’t say he’s been there just yet. Sounded neat though. He tilted his head to
the side a little, trying to make sense of it as Rick sort of explained its
function.
“It’s… I rarely go there, Morty, because it’s just my back up. However, usually
I’m notified if something bad happens or.. somebody we know gets abducted. I
wasn’t, which is why I think this is a bullshit waste of time, Morty. But if it
helps to ease your mind, I’m sure I’d be able to pull up the feedback on the
monitors, see what she was up to on her last, uh.. see whatever it was she was
doing before she went missing.”
Morty’s face seemed to indicate he was getting it. “So it’s like a satellite
where you can see where someone is all the time?” It reminded him of how their
president was able to spy and catch them watching Minecraft that one time!
“Yeah, Morty, sure. I got it put together myself about 15 years ago. Some of
the technology’s a lit-little outdated now, but everything’s still.. everything
up there still puts Earth’s top grade security defenses to shame.” He snorted,
“These.. those official FBI ass-uugh-holes only w-wish they could be as smart
as your grandpa.”
“You can see what Jessica was doing and what might have happened?” Morty’s lips
pursed at the possibilities this could lead to. To be able to watch Jessica and
see her …in any situation… the locker room… her room… the shower—
“$10 says she was still probed by aliens, though.” Rick winked, interrupting
Morty’s train of thought.
Morty’s eyelids fell half closed to give a rather dry expression. He chose to
ignore it and tried not to think of anymore impure thoughts, but waited
anxiously, fidgeting in his seat until they were there.
Some time had passed, minutes — or maybe hours — spent by as Rick chugged back
the liquid inside his flask, drinking maybe just a little bit more than he
should on this trip. Eventually reaching their destination, Rick’s fingers
pressed a few buttons next to the steering wheel, making the ship maneuver its
way into a small entrance on the side of a run down looking building. It was an
empty building, completely dark, the only light source was coming from the line
of windows that ran along the top, making the building look eerily quiet,
making the room in front of them look like it was covered in a hazy fog.
Rick cleared his throat, but made no motion to move or get out of the vehicle.
Instead, his eyes turned slowly towards Morty, looking for body language that
indicated he was aware of what was going on, looked for possible confusion in
his eyes.
The expression in Rick’s drunk slack face was almost hungry, the alcohol in his
system making it harder to keep his steady composure. His muscles tensed, as if
ready to pounce, or defend himself, if things were to go astray.
“There’s no.. no fucking, security room, Morty.”
***** Impossible Betrayal *****
Chapter by MortiestMorty
Morty was oblivious to his manipulative grandfather. Most of the time, that
seemed to be the way things went; he didn’t know what was up until it was too
late. At that point, there was no reason to fight it. Despite the obvious abuse
in the relationship, there was a part of him that was always so willing to
forgive, trust and rely on Rick, when he knew he shouldn’t; it was weird. Some
kind of psychological thing Morty was sure that he couldn’t begin to understand
about himself. Not yet anyway.
Morty wasn’t nearly as stupid as people sometimes made him out to be though,
particularly Rick. He knew something was off the second they arrived on the
deserted planet.
The boy sat upright more, looking around with a baffled expression. He was a
normally pretty easy fellow to read, unlike Rick, who seemed to do a great job
lying his ass off to get him here.
Before Morty could turn and ask whether or not they were truly at the right
place, Rick threw him a curve ball. If he wasn’t confused before, there was no
doubt about it now. Something inside him made his stomach churn uneasily.
Anxiety?
“What the hell, Rick? What do you mean there’s no security room?” Taking over
the confusion was fury. Rick was wasting time and for what??
Rick moved so that he was leaning over Morty, not touching, just hovering. He
placed one hand on the dash in front of Morty, and the other gripped hard at
the head rest of his seat, thoroughly closing him in against the passenger side
door. It all felt like a threat, his eyes mixed with the way he was leering
over Morty like an intimidating shadow that was daring him to try and move.
“What I mean, Morty, b-baby, is that there’s no f-fucking security room. Not,
uh, not here, at least.” He risked moving the hand that was still resting on
the dash to Morty’s cheek, his hair, stroking and petting the locks back into
place. “It’s okay, though, Morty, s-sweetheart.”
“S-Stop it, Rick!” Morty scolded, trying to find his nerve. He turned his head
away, face turning red as the other stroked his hair, making him feel really
uncomfortable. And to hear Rick call him 'baby' and 'sweet heart' didn't
help. He didn’t understand why, even in Rick’s drunk state, that he was making
what seemed to be advances on him.
Rick watched Morty slowly come into realization which made him bite at his own
lip, unable to help himself. Rick was already starting to feel a warmth rising
up in his belly, probably mostly brought on by the alcohol, he imagined, but
very much still there nonetheless. His eyes continued to dance over Morty’s
face, his body, drinking up all that they could, taking their time as the hand
that was still resting there on his head began to close into a fist, grasping
hard at chunks of his grandson’s hair, then letting out a hard huff of breath
that he didn’t realize he had been holding.
Morty had been thinking so much about Jessica that he hadn’t realized just how
much his grandpa had been drinking the entire time while they journeyed to this
desolate place. He could smell it so strongly on his breath as he scrunched up
in his seat, yipping from the hair-grabbing.
“And… and Jessica, Morty?” Rick leaned in real close as he spoke, his lips
grazing with the most gentle amount of pressure against Morty’s forehead.
“She’s… well, uh. let’s just say she’s not gonna be, a-around to bother us
anymore, so you can stop worrying about her, now, lit-little one.”
“Nn, get off Rick! You’re wasted!” Morty tried to bring Rick back to reality
and gave him a hard shove on the chest in an attempt to put some space between
them, though the grip on his hair didn’t make that such a bright idea— and then
it clicked on what his grandpa just said. Rick said something about Jessica
that made him freeze all up. Morty’s eyes opened wide.
Morty swallowed a hard lump in his throat, realization dawning that Rick had
actually done something TO Jessica… But why?
This was enough to finally give Morty back his senses and backbone. He squirmed
violently in his seat, trying to undo his seatbelt so he could deal with Rick
easier. “What are you saying Rick?! What did you do!?” It was really hard to
confront him when he was so drunk he probably wasn’t going to remember this in
the morning but the young boy wasn’t going to let that stop him from laying
into him if he had really done something to poor Jessica!
Rick was taken aback by Morty’s shove, staggering slightly, causing him to let
out an aggressive snarl. He undone the seatbelt for Morty in a haste with shaky
fingers, then sloppily gathered the boy in his arms. Fingers pressed hard into
Morty’s arms and the back of Morty’s neck, hard enough to definitely leave some
unsightly purple bruises.
The hand on Morty’s neck shoved him downwards, forcing his head to meet the
dashboard along with a loud unsettling sound of flesh and bone hitting metal.
Once, twice. Not hard enough to cause any serious damage, but there was now a
single string of blood trickling down his nose, and Rick hissed.
“I, baby.. it’s okay. I know you’re a fighter, sweetheart. My lit-little tough
guy. But I don’t wa-ugh-na have to hurt you, sweetheart. Don’t.. don’t make me
have to hurt you, sweetie-sweet boy.”
Rick wasn’t entirely sure if his words were completely true, because the way
blood was still running down Morty’s face, how some of it had smeared on his
lips a little only worked up his nerves in a way that was starting to make his
cock twitch in his trousers.
Rick always did something pretty insane when he was this far gone. This utterly
wasted. And Morty often had to be the one to deal with those consequences. But
Morty could tell right away that he’d rather be disarming another bomb than
have to emotionally endure whatever the hell all of this was.
“Rick!” Morty snapped in desperation, his muscles tight with tension from all
the roughing up. With a quick swipe of an anxious tongue, he could taste blood
that had swelled around his upper lip. It was a challenge to speak at this
point as his head was reeling from the impact with the dashboard of the ship.
“Y-You’re sick…! Get the hell off of me! I want to go home!” Morty tried to
sound brave and stern anyway. Sometimes if he sounded strong enough, on
occasion his grandpa would relent to his needs, but he really didn’t sound
strong enough anymore. Even with the knowledge that Rick had done something to
Jessica fueling his fire, this was just all so messed up.
Morty would be lying if he didn’t admit he had a fucked up relationship with
his grandpa already but this was definitely taking things to the next extreme.
The way Rick cooed and spoke to him made him feel weird in all sorts of ways he
didn’t realize one could feel weird. Ordinarily he’d be jumping through hoops
to get any sort of praise from Rick, but this was so much different. Rick
shouldn’t be talking to him like this! But he was too afraid to move again
right away. He had to keep his eyes averted to ensure Rick couldn’t see just
how unsure, nervous, and scared he really was. As if he was certain his
predatory nature would feed on it.
Ignoring the boy’s protests, Rick only pulled Morty away from the dash and held
him with tight, unrelenting arms. He pressed the boy’s head into his chest, not
seeming to mind the fact that blood was beginning to smear on one of the lapels
of his coat.
Morty whined uncomfortably, his voice giving way to that unique crack it had
whenever he held a syllable too long. He grit his teeth and tried to lean back
out of Rick’s hold. Tried to muster up more strength to push him at an arm’s
length away.
“Shh, hey, I’m sorry I scared you, baby. But… you are home, Morty. We’re home,
yeah? Hey, c-come ‘ere.” With more strength and ease than Rick should be able
to possess right now, he lifted the boy up and off his seat – albeit just a
little awkwardly – and placed him in his lap, adjusting Morty so that they were
facing each other in the small space between the seat and the steering wheel,
his legs straddling Rick’s own. Clumsy fingers hooked into belt loops as Rick’s
lips grazed against Morty’s ear, breath hitching as he felt the warmth
radiating off Morty, heating his face, his hands… his crotch.
It was unintentional, but Rick’s hips jerked into the warmth, needy and
desperate as blood just kept running to his cock, which was now semi-erect.
“Fuck, Morty, baby. You… God. Already making me feel good. Do you like that,
sweetie? Knowing you make me feel good? Knowing you’re being so good for me?”
Rick’s tone was unbelievable; a stark contrast to how he normally sounded, and
manipulating his emotions and making him cringe. “Y-You’re not making any
sense!” Morty was certain Rick was crazy. Crazy drunk… And doing things Morty
was sure maybe… maybe Rick wouldn’t ordinarily do to him. Deep down he believed
Rick really did care about him… even though sometimes he wanted to believe
differently. As if that would help him learn to just stay away from him. To
stop going on these crazy adventures, to stop being his puppet - maybe he
wouldn't be in the situation he was in now if he had learned to turn his back
on Rick a long time ago.
Sitting on Rick’s lap was the most awkward thing. Morty’s face was flushed red,
a vibrant hue from his grandpa’s advances, and his eyes were wild with
increasing trauma. Gawking back at Rick, he couldn’t lean back much due to the
steering wheel burying into him. It kept him snug against his grandpa, kept his
full weight onto Rick’s heated lap where he thought he could feel something
stiff bump around against his lower half.
Morty grimaced as he kept feeling Rick’s lips by his ear, causing him to try
and quickly crane his head back this time to escape the contact. Then he felt
another buck, stirring a jolt of embarrassing friction that he didn’t want to
feel! That made him a little sick to his stomach. Morty didn’t want to imagine
any sort of thoughts like these; didn’t want this part of his life totally
fucked up and taken over too! Rick took everything from him and it looked like
that was going to include his virginity if he didn’t figure out something.
“NO!” Morty decided he wasn’t going to allow it. He was his own person, damn
it! He had a choice in this! He didn’t always have to do what Rick says!
“You’re selfish! A-An asshole Rick! Nothing but a… Just a jerk! You.. I.. If
you don’t let me go, I’m telling everyone about this!” There was no way he
would, this was just too humiliating - but Rick wouldn’t know that. And
threatening him before through the use of tattle telling has worked. It was
worth a shot!
Or not. Morty could tell right away he needed to do something more, so he had
back-up in the form of a fist, which he shot in Rick’s direction to drive the
point home. “You don’t own me Rick! You.. You hurt Jessica and now you’re
hurting me, and I don’t want anything to do with you!” He had come a long way,
learning to stand up for himself - but was it too late?
Morty’s fist met with Rick’s nose and left him in a moment of shock and daze.
His fingers unhooked from Morty’s pants and fluttered their way up to his nose,
hissing as they made contact. When he pulled them away, he noticed through
narrowed eyes and with lips parted into a snarl that they were coated in drops
of blood.
Almost without missing a beat, Rick’s hand flew right back up to Morty,
wrapping back around chunks of hair as the other pried at the handle of the
ship’s door, swinging it open and then leading them both outside into the dark,
oppressive emptiness of the mysterious building. Doing a full 180, he yanked
and pulled at Morty’s body, bending him over and pressing him hard against the
exterior of the ship. His free arm gathered both of Morty’s into his own,
keeping him steady, keeping him from thrashing.
“Is that right, Morty, hm? You want nothing to do with me? You want to go home,
little one?”
Rick’s hand that was still in Morty’s hair loosened it’s grip, stroking the
locks back into place before roaming it’s way down Morty’s body with gentle
finger tips, taking a moment to caress his shoulder blades through the fabric
of his shirt, the skin on his stomach where the shirt had become just a little
pulled up from the position he was in. Rick hummed contentedly as his hand made
it’s way down to Morty’s ass, stroking the area between his legs through the
denim of his jeans with eager fingers. The warmth pleasantly cocooned his
fingers as he rubbed, and it pulled out a sigh of approval from his lips. He
found himself jerking his hips again into Morty’s side and the friction made
him groan.
“I don’t think that’s true, M-Morty–ffuuuck. However, I imagined I’d have to do
a-a little.. convincing. Don’t mind a little fight, baby. Makes it muuuch more
rewarding when-when they finally give in. And, heh, I-I’ve never had a Morty
who uh, didn’t give in eventually, baby.”
“Please, Rick…” Morty bit his bottom lip, his strength wavering to desperation
as his eyes started to become blurry from the stress. Stupid tears. Stupid
small weak body.. He felt so insignificant against him and he hated that.
Morty struggled to ignore the pressure between his legs, Rick’s hand. He tried
to squeeze his thighs together to protect his privates from the intrusive
fingers to no avail. Morty couldn’t believe this was really going to happen. He
just couldn’t believe it.
And to hear Rick talk, he’s had experience before. With other Morties? Is that
what he was implying? Was he not the Mortiest Morty? Was he not his Morty? Or
did he just fuck around with random Morties he’s met on his adventures? Damn,
Morty couldn’t help but think, this was all so messed up!
Morty shut his eyes. A masochistic part of himself told him to just accept it
and move on. Rick always got his way, what was the point in fighting it? It
really felt like his purpose in life was just to make the bastard happy and
even then, he didn’t really do THAT particularly well. Rick was so screwed up;
he couldn’t even have a proper relationship with him. Even when Morty really
did love him no matter how fucked up things always got between them. Morty
hated himself more than anything for that. He shouldn’t love him at all! He
shouldn’t want to be with him at all! If he had just stopped giving Rick
chances, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was right now!
“Please what, Morty?” Rick chanced letting go of Morty’s arms just long enough
for the time it took to flip him over onto his back. One hand gathered both of
Morty’s own with ease, holding them up and over his head.
“Are you crying, honey? Aren’t you.. whatever happened to my brave little boy,
hm? You’re always so-so strong and brave for me. Like you like that.”
His free hand rubbed at the tears on Morty’s cheeks before roaming back down,
slipping its way under his shirt to prod and pinch at one of Morty’s nipples.
“You’re not really scared of me, are you, mmm? I don’t-don’t wanna scare you,
Morty, baby boy. I could make you feel so good, think about it a lot,
sweetheart. About all the ways I can make you feel good with just my fingers.
But if you don’t relax, kitten, i-if we can’t get you to calm down soon, I
won’t hesitate to, uh, inject you with something that’ll fucking make you.“
Morty searched Rick’s eyes for mercy but it was clear he wasn’t going to get
any. “Rick..!” He practically squeaked the name while Rick messed with one of
those sensitive little nubs under his shirt still, threatening him in the same
motion. Morty’s hips shifted from left to right as he writhed against the ship,
head turned away now so he wouldn’t have to look at Rick in that moment. There
was no denying his body was going to feel something from all of this but Morty
refused to blame himself for it. Rick was forcing him to feel it and he
shouldn’t hate himself for that, right?
Reminding himself of Rick’s threat, Morty didn’t dare chance the possibility of
being injected with something that’d totally take away his free will. The idea
was quite terrifying. “J-Just get it over with already then. Just do it and
and.. and take me home.” Morty didn’t want to give up those defeating words but
the old son of a bitch had him in a corner. Maybe in another universe there was
another Morty who continued his defiance, who might have even been able to
fight Rick off, but he just couldn’t find it in him to do that. He was all
choked up, face wet with tears.
“Thaaat’s it.. gonna sit there like a good boy, let me take over, hm? Gonna be
quiet for me?” Rick’s hand moved away from Morty’s nipple to lift his shirt,
leaving his chest bare and exposed. He leaned down to mouth and tease at the
same nipple as before, tongue gently lapping over the erect nob, his warm
breath coming in hitched waves over the flesh as a soft moan escaped his
throat.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t h-have to knock you out, baby boy. However, threaten
me one more time, sweetheart, and we’ll, uh, have to do a little more than make
sure you’re just knocked out. Understand?”
Rick’s hand moved to stroke at Morty’s tear stained face as he spoke, his
gentle fingers a harsh contrast to his word.
“Don’t think something like that would stop me, either, love.”
The faint sounds of whooshing of air and electricity could be heard from what
sounded like behind the building just as Rick’s fingers were undoing his own
jeans, moving then to release his cock which was fully hard now.
Morty felt his skin crawl. He tried not to say anything, though his body was
obviously protesting. His eyes squeezed shut and then opened again to stare at
the ceiling of this dirty place with a look that was reminiscent to the shock
and trauma he felt during their first timeline jump, when they had to replace
his and Rick’s dead selves.
Morty didn’t even register the noises that were happening nearby. He just
waited.. like a ‘good boy,’ waited for his Rick to take what was his…
Rick’s hands wasted no time to perform the same action to Morty’s jeans as his
own, unbuttoning them to force them down over his slim hips. Rick was so close,
so ready. It was all so perfect, so…–- 
“Oh… my god, MORTY?“
***** Rickgret *****
Chapter by MortiestMorty
Morty heard Rick’s voice loud and clear — except not the Rick on top of him.
It made him glance briefly off to the side where he saw another Rick.
It had all happened so fast, the sight in front of Rick 137's eyes felt like it
was burning a hole into his brain, literally burning away at his insides.
Little time was wasted, however. It was almost like his body wasn’t his own as
he reached down for the gun in his pocket and blew out the brains of the Rick
in between him and Morty with a single bullet, spraying an unsightly amount of
blood and tissue this way and that. The body slumped over to the ground like a
rag doll. Rick's heart pounded painfully in his chest, mixed with the way his
stomach was flipping made him want to vomit, the feeling teasing mercilessly at
the back of his throat.
“Je-What the fuck, Morty...” Rick’s voice was barely above a whisper, like all
the wind inside of him had left as if he’d been punched in the gut.
A punch to the gut that definitely would have been deserved if it were
physical, considering the context.
Should he try to help him up? ...Hug him? Touch him, at all? Would Morty even
let him? Rick didn’t know. “Look, I, Morty. I don’t-I don’t really have, a lot
of time… right now t-to explain so, I mean w-we have to get out of here, n-now.
I have to take you home. Okay? Is.. is that okay because I only have so much
charge left in my portal... gun, a-and...”
The jolt of the imposter Rick's body as it was shot sort of helped zap Morty
out of his shocked stupor at this point and he was sitting upright on the hood
of the ship, his shirt slipping back down as he looked back and forth between
the dead Rick and the alive Rick.
Dark, stressed out circles had formed under Morty’s eyes while his poor brain
tried to piece all of this confusion together. Whatever Rick was saying to him
right now didn't properly process. “What the… what the hell is going on?” He
cut Rick off, voice cracking under pressure, sounding emotionally
strained. “Who is that or.. or who are you? I want some damn answers. I.. I
deserve a lot of answers r-right now!” Morty pulled his knees up to his chest
as he sat awkwardly on the hood, studying Rick nervously, his mind totally
blown. He wanted to go home but he found it difficult to move, so he was just
buying time until he felt he could really stand again on his own shaky legs.
“Morty, I.. you have to try to calm down before I try to explain anything. F-
fuck I hardly even, I don’t even know what’s going on. I was gone for like, a
few f-fucking days, Morty! Listen, I literally do not have the time right now.
We need to go home.” He extended a hand, unsure. Almost positive Morty wouldn’t
take it, certain he didn’t even want to look at him right now. “Please? And,
God, z-zip up your pants, alright?”
Rick had absolutely no idea how to handle what was in front of him. All he knew
was that his fingers were shaking the way they often would whenever he needed a
drink, despite the fact that his stomach wouldn’t stop churning and he was sure
he’d be that much more prone to puking it all up later. He didn’t care.
Morty’s eyes watered more as he realized some asshole from another dimension
had just tried to move in with them like one of those crazed parasites. Tried
to just take over the family like… well, any Rick would really, but he got
stuck with a pervert. An extreme version of Rick that made him feel guilty for
thinking that HIS Rick would have forced him into something THAT fucked up.
Sometimes though.. it was hard to tell what Rick was capable of, and if this
Rick had those feelings for him… did his own? Maybe not as strong, but...
Morty tried not to think about that right now. He was safe now. What happened
had nothing to do with him or HIS Rick. This was just another fucked up thing
that happened because of who they were. Like no other obstacle he hasn’t
managed to overcome before, right?
Morty’s face turned so red it was a wonder it wouldn’t stain that way when Rick
told him to zip up his pants. He fumbled quickly to do just that and slipped
off the hood of the car, standing firm and balling his hands into fists at his
sides. He didn’t take Rick’s hand, trying to suck it up and just pretend this
shit didn’t happen. But he was still a kid, an emotional one at that, so it was
hard not to just… NEED some consoling right now.
He meekly put his arms around Rick and buried his face against his coat,
trembling all over, feeling worse than when King Jellybean tried to take
advantage of him. It was that sense of hopelessness, the fact he actually gave
in to defeat that terrified him the most. At least he was able to kick King
Jellybean’s ass.
“Ok.. let’s go home…” He murmured softly, waiting to be led through.
Rick's eyes burned with the heavy threat of tearing up in response to Morty’s
hug, the desperation of it all apparent in the way his head was burying into
him, how his fingers were digging into the fabric there. Seeing Morty like this
awoke something ugly and protective inside of Rick; vicious and possessive. His
fingers twitched with it. Made him want to slit the throat of any motherfucker
who even dared to leave Morty feeling like this, shivering and trembling like a
frightened dog. Even if it was, in a way, his own self.
Instead, all he could do was bite his tongue. He almost wished he could have
left his alternate self alive, pull him off into a private room to teach him a
lesson, of sorts. Keep him alive until he was begging for death. His brain
flooded with thoughts of all the terrible, awful things he’d like to do, a
bullet to the brain just... wasn’t enough.
Morty was still holding on, a sniffle breaking his morbid train of thought hard
enough to make him look and blink down at the boy. Should he.. touch him?
Rick risked adjusting, moving down to kneel in front of Morty with slow,
cautious movements, eyes never breaking contact with Morty’s face.
“H-hey, Morty,” Long arms wrapped themselves around Morty’s middle, one hand
pressing itself against the back of Morty’s head, loose and non threatening
enough so that he could pull away if he needed to. “I’m here, Morty. Nothing is
going to happen to you, now. Not while I’m here. When we get back, I want you
to try and get some sleep, okay? Can you do that for me? When you wake up, if
you want, we can uh, talk about... this.. for as long as you need.”
It was through Rick’s easing tone that Morty felt a little more relaxed. That
rare treat that his subconscious craved. He hated how the other Rick tried to
use it to his advantage.
Morty was exhausted, mentally and physically. He had bruises what felt like all
over, and dried blood still speckled all over his face. He wanted to clean
himself up and just… go to sleep. For a very long time.
Morty nodded and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He sniffled and
didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about everything that
happened but he’d see how he was feeling in the morning.
"That's it, come on. Up we go." Rick gently swooped Morty up into his arms
after digging in his pocket for the portal gun and shooting a bright green
energy that's never seemed more welcome. Walking through, they entered into
Morty's room. The lights were off, but through the darkness Rick's eyes were
adjusted enough to tell that everything was how he remembered it. With bed
sheets a jumbled mess on one corner of the bed, Rick just simply laid the boy
down, taking his time as he untangled the covers, letting himself enjoy the
rare, arguably mundane and tedious task of just... being a grandfather, tucking
his grandson in at night. His life was always much too fast paced for moments
like this.
‘Maybe if your life wasn't so fast paced then this wouldn't have happened.’
The bitter thought that entered Rick’s head made him huff out a breath as he
tried to force it out of his brain. He knows it's true. He knows it's his
fault. There's probably always going to be a part of Morty that will never
fully trust Rick again, won't ever be able to truly feel comfortable around him
in the same way as before.
‘At least keep it together until you leave the fuckin' room, Sanchez.’
"Can I get you some water? Anything at all, Morty?
Morty wanted a bath. But he didn't really feel like getting up now that Rick
had him all tucked into bed. The bed was just so inviting... There was no way
he could leave it just yet. His eyelids were feeling pretty heavy too. They
were difficult to keep open and he didn't want to. Unconsciousness would be his
ultimate relief.
“No, Rick.. I.. I’m ok..” He really wanted to be alone as well. He still felt
rather humiliated about the whole thing and being with Rick right now was a
little difficult. He rolled away from him, curling up more into the covers and
pulling them over his head.
Without another word, Rick quietly retreated from Morty’s bedroom, clicking the
door shut behind him. His legs felt like mush and threatened to give out
underneath him.
’It’s all your fault.’
‘You did this.’
‘You literally did this to him.’
The thoughts swirled around relentlessly in Rick’s head. Shakiness in his
fingers and the throbbing in his head returned which meant he needed a fucking
drink, right now. Somehow his legs were able to carry him to his vice, however
once reaching the refrigerator and grabbing whatever full bottle his hand
touched first, he backed away and slid down, his behind hitting hard against
the floor and the knobs on the counter pressed uncomfortably into his back as
he did so but he ignored it. He could only focus on lifting the bottle to his
eager mouth.
‘How could you let this happen?’
“Ff-fuc-c-ckin’ shut u-up.” chug.
‘Why do you continue to leave when you know that only bad things happen when do
you?’
“Stop.” chug. chug.
’Is it what you want, you prick? For bad things to happen?’
‘For your grandson to get raped?’
“F-fuckin’, god damnit stop… please stop.”
Rick moved his limbs and muscles until he was in a standing position, giving
his mind and body something to think of that wasn’t about how bad of a person
he was.
Moving until he reached his bedroom, he fell back onto his bed and stared at
the ceiling through narrowed, tired and tipsy eyes. He could feel them getting
heavy, so he let them rest, half empty bottle falling at his feet as he
drifted.
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