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this is simply to satisfy myself

[appledotfawn]

you’re no good for me, but baby i want you // declan o’hara

cw•professor x student, angst, smut, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart and darling), infidelity.

summary•your favorite professor reads over an essay that you accidentally slipped too much truth into, revealing your feelings for him.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

declan o’hara, esteemed journalist and your best friends dad. which was always jolting to remember when you were sat on his desk watching him grade papers. you were his favorite student, everyone at the school knew it. what they didn’t know is that you were in a relationship with him. if that’s what you could even call it, you didn’t really know what you two were. there was flirting, occasional touching, and eye contact. or, eye-fucking, as caitlin once said when referring to maude, declan’s wife, and her newest eye-candy. “she’s eye fucking him,” caitlin had muttered in the kitchen as you helped taggie shuck corn husks for a party last month.

declan is concentrating on the papers before him, muttering things to himself like: “who the fuck says the pope is the epitome of righteousness?” and “oxford commas are being utterly abused.” while shaking his head in disbelief. this was your ritual, after the herd of students filters out after his last lecture, which you conveniently were in, you’d walk down the steps and take a seat in the chair across from him. it started off as him asking if you’d be coming around for dinner that weekend, or if taggie had mentioned a party. then it became a habit of small talk, keeping you there for longer than appropriate. and soon, your seat became his desk. his second chair was stolen by some “cunt” of a TA, in declan’s words. and he let you sit upon his dark wood desk. so it shouldn’t have come as a shock to you when mr o’hara invited you over for the holidays.

and as your feet peddled up the long driveway to the o’hara’s, you noticed a lack of cars in the driveway. taggie must be out, and maude must be too. you knock lightly, and a messy haired declan opens the door. you had seen him casually dressed, but this? he was without a shirt and with damp hair pushed back. you tried not to gawk at him while he swung the door open. “shit, forgot you were comin’. everyone else went ahead and fled the scene after maude and i got into it.” he explains and you continue to stare. unsure of what the next move is here. would it be too selfish to waltz right into the devils den? or is the appropriate thing to do here to cut your losses and head back home?

declan laughs with a shake of his head, “probably shouldn’t have told you that last bit.” and you shake your head quickly, jumping to ease his embarrassment. “oh god, no really it’s fine. i get an ear full about it from tag anyways.” you laugh and go wide-eyed at the slight confession. “all within reason of course.” you expand and declan’s smiles and opens the door wider. you step in, he shuts it behind you.

as you stand in the doorway, uneasy—you have been in this house often, in fact it was like your second home but without taggie… it felt like a strange foreign place. declan stalks into the kitchen, grabbing a button up from the kitchen chair, buttoning up quickly before coming back to you. “i’m sorry, i know you expected tag.” he sighs and you shake your head. “it’s no worries, honestly. the drive back is short enough,” you explain and declan’s smile drops. “oh you don’t have to do that? surely you could stay for a bit? i promise i can sometimes will myself to be slightly less of a dick.” his words make you laugh. he is a dick. half of his students hate him for his harshness and sarcasm, but that always seemed to charm you. “i’ll stay for a bit then.” you hum and he smiles warmly.

you find yourself on the couch, the fireplace roaring and crackling. a mug of tea in your hands while declan sips on rum. he’s leaned back, completely comfortable. you’ve never seen him like this, he’s usually so uptight, so tense from maude and her infidelity—which is most likely something you should be oblivious too, but the fact that you’re not only adds to the element of obscenity. “i read your essay earlier by the way,” he hums, his voice has grown raspy with the alcohol. you fight off the embarrassment. “oh,” you hum. you weren’t sure what to say. “it was brilliant,” declan murmurs and your eyes catch his dark brown ones.

“seriously?” you ask and he nods slowly. “i’ve never read anything like it, sweetheart.” you have no choice but to give in to the flushing of your cheeks. “that really means a lot,” you scramble to find words and declan grins while taking a sip of rum. “s’for that creative writing class, yeah?” he questions and you nod. “yeah, we were told to write about the grappling of morality.” you explain, and he hums in understanding. “and you chose to write about an affair?” he questions with a bit of humor and you nod slowly.

“yeah, i guess it’s just the first thing that came to mind.” you shrug and declan grins. “an affair between a student and a teacher no less. i bet that ruffled feathers.” he notes and you shake your head. “professor cauldlin was understanding of the topic.. even complimented me on the complexity of the situation.” you brag. declan cocks his head, “the complexity in the married man who’s wife cheats on him, and the feelings that fuel his side of the affair. i think s’brilliant.” he smiles again, and you feel your stomach flutter.

you always had a thing for that. the compliments. it was intoxicating hearing this from him. “thank you.” you hum. “so, you and maude aren’t in the holiday spirit?” you knew it was tricky to bring her up. you knew it might be wrong. might set the wrong impression, might set this beautiful delicate paper house you have on fire but you couldn’t resist it. “is maude marie in your essay?” you jerk back at his slow words. eyes wide. “the adulterating wife?” he continues.

his brows raise. and you sit in silence. your eyes communicating things your mouths can’t. do we want to go there? can we? “yes.” you sigh and declan nods his head. “and that’d make me danny?” you chew on the inside of your cheek while you think of a way out of this. because this humiliation.. it was cruel. “not exactly,” you fight back. and declan nods with a grin. “what’s that mean?” he leans forward. your eyes catch his. “i’m not the narrator.” you explain but it’s useless by now. he’s got you all figured out.

“but you are the writer, aren’t you, darling?” his voice is deep and gravelly now. it sent shivers down your back. “it’s fiction.” you explain and he nods its head. “i’m painfully aware of that.” he murmurs.

“declan,” you sigh and he looks down at you. “i’m sorry if i’ve offended you, and your marriage—i never in a million years would have wanted that—“ declan’s hand comes up over your mouth. a smug grin on his face. “do you have any idea how worked up those pages got me? reading about all of this filth you’ve conjured up?” your cheeks burn under his palm. “i’d sneak out of bed to go read those pages. my one and only vice. i’ve tried to stay loyal to maude and keep out of trouble when it comes to you but you sat this dirty prayer in the form of a manuscript on my desk and i lost it all that day. all of my will, all of my honor.” he mutters, almost furiously. it’s been eating at him, you can tell just how distraught this has made him.

your brows furrow at the confession. “i—“ you mumble into his palm as your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling his hand from your mouth. “i never meant for this to happen,” you explain softly while his eyes look at up at you servilely. his eyes beg for a release. “you did,” he whispers and you shake your head, refusing the truth. “i didn’t,” you counter and his hands come up to cup your face. “you did, for fucksake what else did you think would come from me reading it?” he puts you on the spot and you blank. christ, is this what you wanted?

“i… i don’t know,” you fumble over your words. “hey,” his eyes catch yours as he dips to your eye-line. your eyes catch onto his an this feeling of complete peace washes over you. if this is wrong, you don’t want to be right, ever. your hand rests on his cupping your face while you look into his eyes. “declan,” you sigh again and he smiles softly. you were some sort of drug to him. “what sweetheart, tell me.” he whispers.

“we can’t do this. taggie and—and maude.” you shock yourself with the guilt overpowering the intoxication of him. his eyes close and he sighs. “i know. i know.” he huffs. you nod slowly, your thumbs sweeping over the back of his palms. his eyes open and they’re soft. they’re warm and inviting. “you’re right,” he whispers, going to pull away but your fingers tightly on his hands, holding them to you. he comes back with force, his lips meeting yours in a rushed collision.

it’s messy, it’s heated. your hands paw at his biceps and shoulders, slipping to the back of his neck as you pull him in. his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you groan, relaxing into him. declan guides you to lay down on the couch, your lips never leaving his. your hands climb into the back of his dark curls, tugging on the roots roughly. declan moans into your lips, and between your legs pulses with want and need. “we should stop,” he pants as he kisses down your jaw, your head tilting back as you nod, slightly agreeing. his lips drag down the side of your neck, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “tell me to stop,” he pants into the curve of your neck as he sucks and presses kisses into the soft skin there. your back arches into him, gripping at his hair once again. “declan,” you whimper softly while his hands slip up under your shirt.

his rough hands scraping against the softness of your skin. “you’re so perfect,” he murmurs as he kisses down your collarbones. “i don’t know how i kept myself from you all this time,” he continues as he nips as the skin of your chest. your shirt lifts and gathers just above your chest as declan kisses down your navel. “i won’t be able to stop myself now that i’ve felt you,” you moan at his words.

his lips trail down your stomach, his facial hair scraping you satisfyingly. his lips and hands stop above your jeans. “tell me how to stop,” he whispers pathetically, desperately. you can see the struggle in his eyes. the conflict you so empathetically wrote about in your essay. your legs spread for him, and he groaned at the gesture. his fingers quickly undid your pants, slipping them off before he could second guess himself. he had thought about this more than once with his hand wrapped tightly around himself, but this moment didn’t compare to those.

his fingers traced the delicate lace of your underwear carefully before pulling it to the side. his fingers trace up and down your core slowly, causing your hips to buck ever so slightly. “christ, you’re wet.” he whispers, looking up at you with want-filled brown eyes. you whimper at the feeling of him. your arm hooks over his shoulders and you pull yourself up onto his knees. straddling his waist. the action makes his fingers hit your clit just right.

your head falls into his neck, whimpering softly. “jesus christ,” you sigh. declan’s fingers circle your clit slowly, applying pressure. “i can feel your cunt beggin’ for me.” he whispers into your hair and you grind your hips onto his fingers. “declan, please, i need you.” you beg.

his fingertips slip down to your entrance, circling there. you whimper and try to grind onto them but he pulls them back each time. “patient,” he hums. you whine, shaking your head. “you have no idea how much i’ve wanted this, i can’t—“ you beg pathetically and while you do, declan slips two fingers into you. your cunt immediately clenches around him, throbbing.

“holy fucking shit, you’re so tight.” he huffs, his fingers moving slowly inside of you. “gonna cum just thinking about that pretty cunt of yours wrapped around my cock,” he pants against the skin of your cheek as you grind onto his fingers. you moan in response to his dirty words. his fingers stay put for too long, far too long. you grind your hips but he stills them. “please,” you whine and he only presses a soft kiss to your jaw as he grinds his thumb roughly against your clit.

“declan,” you groan, getting impatient. you lift your hips and slide back down his fingers while whimpering. finally getting the friction you need. declan watches in amazment, staring down, watching your cunt take his fingers so perfectly. “jesus christ, baby” he moans. your hips keep riding his fingers, your back arching and hitting that soft spot inside of you.

your body tenses as you, and declan starts bouncing his knee beneath you. hitting that spot over, and over. “that’s it, baby” he taunts. “that feels good, yeah?” your eyes pinch closed as you whimper and moan breathlessly. your orgasm hits you in waves, your body clenching and relaxing against him as you shout his name. he pushes hair from your face as your come undone, murmuring how beautiful you are. how long he’s pictured this. it’s all a blur as you come down.

panting together, his fingers pull out of your slowly while you wince. your fall onto his lap, and you cannot ignore the bulge pressing against your sensitive cunt. you grind slowly against it and he moans roughly. “don’t,” he grips your hips. “not tonight, not now. i don’t want to rush this.” he murmurs. you nod your head, slowly coming to a stop with your hips.

his hands come up to cup your face again, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “that was incredible.” he murmurs while running his hands through the mess your hair has become.