Work Text:
I opened the door softly, holding my breath, even though it was pointless as the door lead right past his desk. He glanced up as I stepped into the room and I willed my face to neutrality.
The look on his face had my chest aching. His eyes were wide as he looked up at me through his dark lashes and heavy lids and his lips paused in mid sentence.
"You're late. Again." He raised his brows. Frustration built. I was obviously aware I was late. And the "again" was simply unecessary.
"I know, I'm sorry." I spoke nervously, his gaze burning into my back as I walked to one of the few open seats in the back, walking up the stairs to the last row. I resisted the urge to pull down my skirt, standing as straight as possible as I walked up and up, the class soon losing interest. But Professer Murphy waited until I was seated, his beautiful sunken eyes lingering on me as I grabbed my laptop and notebook.
He leaned back over his desk, one arm propping him up, while the other flipped through pages of his textbook. "As I was saying, this chapter covers..."
I zoned out. I knew what this chapter covered. In fact, I already had my assignments written up, waiting for the right moment to turn them in. While my time management skills definetely put a dent in my work to impress the great Cillian Murphy, I made up for it in the quality and quick completion of assignments. I didn't necessarily enjoy it. The work. But the bits of praise... The gentle smile when I walked up to his desk moments after he assigned a paper, knowing I had already completed it. The way his eyes danced over my face as he told me his thoughts. Told me I did a fantastic job. That I was doing amazing.
Would he still say those things if he knew I imagined him saying them in a completely different scenario. The image of his hand in my hair, my knees scraping on the floor, his eyes glazed over as he watched me pleasure him. "Such a good job..."
"Y/N." I snapped out of it, clenching my thighs together as I realized the heat that had built up in my core and the slickness appearing in between my legs. The pressure made my stomach warm, but I willed myself to pay attention. "Do you have an answer?"
Shit. I shook my head no, the dread building in my chest. It was probably a simple question. I was so stupid. His brows furrowed as he watched the emotion that must have been evident on my face. He chewed on his lip. I frowned.
"Dostoevsky." A girl at the front of class answered for me, breaking Professor Murphy's gaze from my own. My heart dropped as he nodded at her. I loved Dostoevsky. I should have known that one.
"Good job, Avery." He nodded, flipping a page in his notebook.
"My name's Allie." She corrected.
Professor Murphy glanced up at her. "Right, sorry." He looked back up at me... Amusement danced in his beautiful eyes. He looked back down at his book and my cheeks heated. Although I had a habit of taking any bit of attention from the man as something more, I couldn't ignore the look he gave me. As if he had gotten her name wrong on purpose. As if he knew I was daydreaming, like he knew I was obviously knowledgable enough to answer the question.
As if he knew... I pressed my thighs tighter together.
...
"Alright, I'm going to use the last 15 minutes to get you started on the assignment that way you can ask questions and I can explain as you go along with your outline." I watched every movement of his lips. Every glimpse of his tongue behind his teeth.
I looked down at my completed paper, having to practically tear my gaze away from his face. My head was still spinning. I wasn't paying attention. Allie answered for me. Of all people. And Professor Murphy called her Avery.
"Y/N." Professor Murphy was walking to my desk, going up the last step. He watched as I glanced up and quickly straightened my posture. He stepped closer than necessary, looking down at me. My heart sped and I wondered if he could hear it beating against my chest so viciously. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I said, raising a brow. Sensing my confusion, he sighed.
"You were late again. You weren't paying attention either, normally you're very attentive." He spoke softly. While I knew it was to avoid the attention of the other students, the gentle tone of his voice warmed my stomach and made me lightheaded. I shifted my thighs again, his gaze falling momenarily to where my skirt hiked up slightly before meeting my eyes again.
"I'm sorry." I muttered, looking down at my paper again, tears threatening to fall. I yelled at myself in my head. There was no reason to be crying. He was just a guy. He was just a teacher. This was just school. I needed to get myself together.
"It's alright, just try to be on time." He responded even softer. "Did you have any questions about the assignment?"
I sat back in my chair, surprised he even bothered to ask. My shoulder brush against his hip. He didn't move. Professor Murphy placed a hand on my desk, leaning over me. His eyes ran over my paper and I watched him. His jawline and cheekbones were so sharp and his eyes were so blue. Pieces of his dark hair escaped the gel meant to slick it back, hanging over his forehead. I quietly and deeply breathed in through my nose, inhaling his cologne. Cherry. Almond. Liqueur.
"Very good, Ms. Y/L/N. Wonderful work." He practically whispered, his warm breath reaching my neck from his downward gaze. He turned his head, his face so close to my own. My tongue darted to wet my dry lips and his eyes flicked down to my mouth at the movement. He clenched his jaw.
"I'll see you in class tomorrow, Y/N." Professor Murphy stood. I let out the shuddering breath I had been so desperatly holding. His hand I hadn't realized gripped the back of my chair ran over my upper back as he stepped away, his fingers gently brushing the back of my neck. I felt the desperate urge to take his lingering hand and pull him back. To place his hand to my slick heat so that he knew what he did to me. To do anything to make him moan praises to me.
"I have a question." Fucking Allie called out, catching Professor Murphy before he got back to his desk. He made his way to her desk and I quickly noted the way Allie turned towards him, pressing her chest out. Her legs parted slightly, her skirt falling loosely between her legs. Bitch.
Professor Murphy stopped a good foot from her chair, leaning only to grab the paper from her desk. She watched him through hooded eyes, her friends watching the interaction in amusement. Professor Murphy skimmed through the obviously long paper, listing off a few critiques. Allie's eyes widened in surprise, her lips turning up in a shocked grin. She reached up for her paper, her fingers brushing his.
Part of me felt the urge to strangle her. But I knew I was over reacting. I couldn't be the only one with the deep infatuation with him. He was georgous. Quiet. Analytical. And any word that left his mouth sounded dirty with his deep throaty voice and beautiful accent. Anyone would fall in love with that.
"I guess that means I should stay after and get some help." Allie offered, smiling slightly. Professor Murphy pulled his hand back.
"That won't be necessary, just do some quick revisions and bring it back tomorrow, you should be fine." He replied, putting his hands deep in his pockets and walked back to his desk.
Allie's friends couldn't hold back their amused laughs and Allie huffed in frustration. I smirked. And as I gazed back at Professor Murphy, now sitting in his chair, elbows on his desk, hands clasped under his chin and index fingers lightly covering his lips, he was already watching me. His eyes quickly darted away, looking to the papers in front of him.
...
The next day I was two minutes late. Only two. I quickly opened the door, hoping he was somehow late or at least hadn't started yet, but as I walked passed his desk, he didn't stop talking, obviously already beginning a lesson. I returned to my seat in the back of the room, quickly grabbing my laptop and notebook, not daring to look up at him. Not wanting to see the dissapointment in his face. I watched my notebook, reading over invisible work, my fingers turning white agains the pressure as I gripped my pen. I crossed my legs to keep my knee from bouncing, which barely worked.
Suddenly a book slammed shut at the front of the room and I glanced up to find Professor Murphy holding together his textbook, eyes meeting mine. His brow raised in what I most likely imagined was concern. I looked back down. I was late again.
While Professor Murphy taught a lesson I had already read, I worked on the next weeks assignment. The words coming easily, no need for drafting. It was simply how I functioned. I allowed his voice to enter my brain, somehow soothing my anxious thoughts. But it didn't keep them from wondering.
I couldn't remember when my pen had lifted from my paper, when I only stared at the next blank line of white paper, my eyes glazing over in deep thought. The way he leaned over me yesterday. The touch of my shoulder on his hip, of his fingers on my back. What may have happened if I had leaned forward during the moments our lips were mere inches apart.
"You guys can leave early today, nice work." Professor Murphy announced, the only thing that broke me from my thoughts. I saw Allie go to his desk, talking too quietly for me to hear. Suddenly my thoughts turned against me. I imagined Allie staying after for help on her writing. Professor Murphy leaning over her. Allie breaking the space between him, her glossy lips moving over his sharp jaw, his hands roaming over her body. My heart ached and I rolled my eyes at myself, dismissing the thought. Professor Murphy would never do anything like that with her, or any student for that matter. No matter how much I wished it.
I gathered my things, keeping my gaze away from his desk as I walked towards the door.
"Y/N, can you stay after? I have some critiques on your writing I forgot to bring up yesterday." He interupted Allie, looking up at me in what I could almost discern as hope. I let out a shaky breath, nodding. Allie glared at me as I passed earning a sharp look from Professor Murphy. I held back a smile as I sat at a seat in the front.
"Do you mind if we finish talking on Friday, I wouldn't like to keep Ms. Y/L/N waiting." Professor Murphy offered, waiting until she had at least finished speaking this time. Annoyance quickly passed her features, but her smile returned too fast.
"Of course. Friday then." She tilted her head down, looking at him through her lashes. Her hand brushed dramatically over his desk before she lightly waved, moving her hips exaggeratingly as she left.
As the door shut I looked back to Professor Murphy, fully expecting his gaze to still be where she left. But he was watching me, his gaze darkened. The ache returned to my core.
Professor Murphy stood from his chair. I set my notebook on the desk, looking down to my writing. He never had critiques. Only praises. Would these feel the same? Or would I walk home crying?
I felt his presence at my back. He propped himself up over me, his other hand, instead of holding the back of my chair, went to my shoulder.
His warmth traveled through me, the sound of his deep breathing ignited me. The touch of his fingers near my neck had goosebumps appearing over my skin.
"I think I know what distracts you. What's been bothering you." He whispered, his hot breath reaching my neck. I held in my sigh.
"Is there something wrong with my paper, sir?" I turned my head, looking up at his dark and hazy eyes. The outright lustful expression on his face that was so very close to mine.
He looked down at my lips. His breathing was heavier. Shakier. His grip tightened on my shoulder.
"I think it's the very same thing that distracts me, Y/N." My name sounded sinful on his shaky breathy voice. My eyes have closed, my sigh escaped me. His breath mixed with my own. Professor Murphy lowered his head slowly, his lips lightly touching the base of my neck, his tongue darting between, wetting my skin. I pressed my thighs together tightly and he made a noise at the action. I brought my hand up, grasping at the hand on my shoulder, willing his fingers to travel over my body.
His lips pressed futher into my skin, kissing once before traveling messily up the side of my neck. I moaned, my head falling back against his shoulder giving him complete access to my neck. He groaned, the noise reverberating through my entire body. His mouth got more desperate, his tongue and teeth draggin over my skin. My quick and desperate moans fueled his own. I arched my back and he took his hand off the desk, wrapping over my chest to pull me closer to him, his mouth now traveling over the top of my neckine.
He finally turned my chair, now in front of me. His hands grasped my waist, pulling me up to him, kissing desperately over my chest, my collarbones. My head still lied back on the back of the chair, my hands pulling at his hair, pushing his head deeper into my flesh.
Without warning, his hand reached in between my legs, under my skirt. He used his entire hand to palm my mound, his fingers putting pressure through the thin cloth. I moaned loudly, doing what I could to grind into his hand.
"You sound so pretty." He sighed, sliding his hand over the wetness that had drenched my underwear. "Fuck."
He suddenly lifted me and I practically fell into the desk.
"No, my desk." He pulled me by my waist, dragging me towards his desk. He shoved everything off the desk, pushing me onto it. I groaned as my chest pressed against the wood, my ass raised slightly in the air. He pressed his groin to my ass, moaning as he shoved his hips against me. Still clothed he ground himself against me and I gripped the edge of the desk tightly.
"Please." I moaned, needing more.
"Please what?" He asked and my knees buckled. His grip tightened on my hips.
"Please, sir. Fuck me, please." I begged, my heart pounding so hard my chest ached. His hands pushed up my skirt and practically ripped my underwear down my thighs.
"Good girl." I whimpered at the words. They felt so good. I heard his belt come undone. His dick shoved into me so fast i didn't know if I screamed or made any noise at all. My legs quivered. He pulled out slowly before slamming back into me, his hips smacking against my ass. He repeated the gesture and it was moments later I felt the beginning of my release.
"Fuck." I whimpered into the desk, the entire thing sliding against the floor as he slammed into me again and again.
He leaned over me, his chest lying against my back. "Go ahead, darling. Cum for me."
He kissed my neck as I finished, arching my back into him. His hands gripped my chest, his fingers sprawled across my breasts as he shoved himself into me again and again, the desperate moans coming from his mouth showing he was close as well.
"Do you want me to-" I knew what he was implying before he finished.
"No. Please, cum in me. Please." I held his arms to my chest and he groaned against my skin. The warmth of his seed traveled through my core. His head lie against my back, his breath fast and heavy. Slowly, he pulled out of me and he stood, pulling me with him. He held me against him, holding me up by the hips. He pressed light kisses over my shoulder and up to my neck.
"Lie down, I want to taste you." He whispered against my jaw, sucking and nipping at my skin. Heat pooled back between my legs, slick dripping down my thighs following thick threads of cum.
"Yes, sir." I replied, quickly turning. I sit on his desk, but he grabs my arm before I lay back. Slowly he lifts my shirt over my head, his eyes heavy against my still clothes breasts. His hands graze over the cups of my bra and he finds his way to the clasp in the back. It immedietly falls loose over my shoulders and he tosses it aside.
He leans forward, his mouth aggressively grazing over my chest, making me hold myself up with the edge of the desk. He licks a line between my breasts before moving to one, immedietly sucking harshly. He holds my waist towards him before pulling back slightly.
"Lie down." He whispers. I quickly do so, my back cold against the wood. He smirks at my immediete compliance. "Good girl."
I moan at the words alone. His mouth moves down to my stomach, pulling my skirt up enough where it wouldn't be in the way, but for some reason, not taking it off. His hands brought my underwear completely off my legs, stretching them over my shoes. He quickly shoved it in his coat pocket and I gasped as his lips quickly met my skin once more. He pressed my thighs apart, pushing them upwards to allow more access.
His head dipped down, his tongue gently starting at my base before deeply licking up my folds. I arched, my hands gripping his hair tightly, pushing his face into me. He let go of my thighs, only to press them on the other side, holding them against his head. I took the message, squeezing his head tightly with my thighs as he ate me out like a starved man, his tongue drawing circles and sucking. His tongue entered my aching hole and I clenched tighter. He moaned and I shook with the pleasure.
His hands reached around me, lifting my hips to his mouth
"Fuck, Cillian!" I yelled. At his name, he groaned so deeply within me, I had immediete release. His face remained, lapping up every bit of my cum. He came up for breath quickly before leaning back down to press a kiss to my thigh. I ran a hand gently through his hair, worried I had possible pulled too hard in those last moments.
He stood, pulling me into a sitting position.
"You called me Cillian." He muttered.
"Sorry, sir." I whispered, not really sorry. His first name felt right, falling easily from my lips while I came on his mouth. As if able to tell, his gaze darkened. He reached down, grabbing my shirt and bra, watching closeley as I put them both back on. I waited for him to hand me back my underwear but he only eyed my neck, licking his lips in anicipation.
Before he glanced at the clock.
"You should probably go." He muttered and my chest ached. I didn't want to leave. ever.
I walked to the desk, having to sidestep him. I grabbed my bag, shoving my notebook in before throwing it on my back. I ached to kiss him goodbye.
I began to walk towards the door, worries filling my mind. But he stopped me.
"Be on time to class tomorrow." He sat in his chair, looking at the spot on his desk he just fucked me agaist. "Wear a shorter skirt. No underwear."
I smirked, the wetness on my thighs sliding against each other as I walked away, already imagining what would happen tomorrow.