Rick Sanchez X Reader (Oneshots)

Professor

|NSFW|
By:Saint_Rick_The_Dick (Ao3)
Warning: Desk Fucking, Humiliation, Oral, Anal

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Professor Rick Sanchez was a vulgar, dour old drunk. He frequently showed up to class reeking of booze - usually vodka, but sometimes whiskey - his clothes rumpled, face twisted into a scowl as he stalked into the room and threw his bag onto the desk, sending papers and pens flying. He was quick to ridicule, his biting comments lamenting the idiocy of everyone around him, resulting in embarrassed silence on behalf of the poor recipient. The man was obviously a genius, his proofs were always flawless, and even the brightest students in class struggled to follow his thought processes as he moved too quickly, his hand a blur against the chalkboard when he scribbled down the complicated formulas. But none of that made you hate him, quite the opposite in fact - you were smitten.

It didn’t happen overnight, instead it was a gradual development, your obsession starting out as a mere admiration for his intelligence, for his refusal to take shit or accept excuses. Soon enough, though, you found yourself sitting in his class, daydreaming, imagining his lips on yours, his large hands running over the curves of your body, the way he would feel moving against you as the two of you made love. He was lanky, tall, well over six feet, and this only served to increase your attraction as you thought about him picking you up, cradling you against his chest and carrying you off like some kind of grumpy prince charming.

He’d caught you staring more than once, your face flushed as you rubbed your thighs together beneath your desk to try and ease some of the sweet tension that seemed to burst forth as soon as you were in his presence. The first time he’d sneered at you, narrowing his eyes in disgust or amusement, you couldn’t tell, and it’d made your cheeks burn as you blinked rapidly to clear your thoughts. But every time after that, he delighted in it, calling on you when he could tell you were distracted, forcing you from your reveries and making you stutter as you attempted to respond to his rapid fire questions.

Today, you had been particularly preoccupied. The weather had turned warm, and he’d removed his jacket to roll up his sleeves. You were too busy focusing on his bare forearms, the way the lean muscle flowed beneath the skin as he scratched calculations on the chalkboard, to notice when people began to file out of the room.

“Hey - hey!“

Professor Sanchez was in your face, snapping his fingers. It startled you, making you jump back at his sudden closeness. Jesus, how long had you been sitting there lost in your own head?

“Yeah, th-there we go. Wake up, dum-dum. Class is - class is over. Y-you planning on spending the night here or something?”

With him so near, you could smell him, a pungent mixture of alcohol and cologne, and you resisted the urge to lick your lips. Your pupils had dilated, your breath coming in short bursts from your nose as you struggled to sit still, the desire which had pooled between your legs sharp and insistent. He noticed all of this, of course, and the look he gave you transitioned from annoyance to sinister glee as he started to smirk.

“H-how long have you been sitting here fantasizing about me?”

You gasped, your cheeks flushing at the question, at his lack of subtlety. But he wasn’t interested in your self-effacing reaction, placing his hands on your desk so he could press his sneer closer, his eyes boring into you.

“Yyyeaaaah, you - you think I didn’t notice? Tell me and don’t lie, I’ll know - do you - do you finger that little pussy at night and moan my name? Think about this - this old cock filling you up, f-fucking you open, my cum dripping from that wet cunt?”