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jam3sacaster · 2 days ago

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“Ya’ want me to touch ya’ like that?”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by my dearest Miranon🩷 / A budding author, you are introduced to Declan O’Hara by your friend Lizzie, and realise your new book has a profound effect…

18+ FANFIC / SUPER SMUT! Finally some more Declan! Super long, I’m so sorry. Reader character aged at 21. As always, request what you wanna see in my asks 💋

“Bloody hell.” Lizzie Vereker remarks, flipping through pages of your first ever publication. “This is… this is porn!” She speaks through a flustered grin. “Oh God, Lizzie. Don’t say that.” You roll your eyes and tut, anxiously chomping at your fingernails as you intently read her expression. It had been 2 weeks since you had published your first book — something of an erotica. You had recently been taken on by Angler Publishing, Lizzie’s agent. Something to be overjoyed about, but you couldn’t help but be frightened about the public reaction you were to receive.

“Well, I can tell you, it has been quite the hit in Rutshire. I’ve handed out a copy to quite literally everybody I’ve met.” Your foxy-haired companion informed you. A wry smile painted your face, half-petrified by the thought of an entire village dispassionately flicking through your novel. “Well, let’s hope it goes down well.” You sigh.

Declan O’Hara, recently unemployed and hopelessly bored, was sat in his arm chair. Lighting a cigarette and huffing out the biggest exhale manageable, he picked up the novel that Lizzie has passed to him in the village shop earlier that week. “What a load of shite.” He quipped to himself as he scanned over the title. Starting the book from halfway through, he happened to land upon one of your more risqué chapters — detailing the most erotic and fantastical scenes. Reaching down to adjust his growing bulge, Declan groaned and spoke into the air, “Fuck me, she’s a dirty girl. Mind of filth.”

It had been a while since he’d been intimate — Maud had took off a few months ago now, with no contact or intention of returning. He was a red-blooded mammal with a carnal instinct, he needed to get his release sooner or later, and it wasn’t going to be over a fucking book. He arose from his chair, closing the book and camouflaging it within his bookshelf. A short snap of the letterbox irritated his ears as he began to stride towards the front door. “The fuck is this?” He asked to himself, bending down to retrieve the small, glossy leaflet that had been pushed through his door. The leaflet advertised your book signing, with a guest appearance from established author Lizzie Vereker herself. “Fuck that.” He rolled his eyes, balling up the leaflet between his palms and tossing it into the paper bin.

“Will anyone actually come?” You ask as you watch Lizzie, frantically laying out pens and copies of your book on a fold-up table, carefully prepared outside of the village hall. “Of course!” She lies, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. Lizzie desperately wanted you to succeed and had personally posted a leaflet through every house door in Rutshire. Whether anyone actually turned up, however, was a different story entirely.

Declan, an ever pessimistic look engrained on his face, began to trudge past the stoned driveway of the village hall, furiously puffing on a cigarette and muttering to himself. “Declan! Declan!” Lizzie began to call, and you immediately rested your head in your hands — today was going to be mortifying. The moustached man appeared to ignore her, but Lizzie would not give up. “Come on Declan, come on Declan.” She shouted, waving him over with every word. The man muttered to himself once more, turned on his heels, and began to walk towards your crudely prepared desk. “Hello, Miss Vereker. How can I help ‘ya today?” He asked, feigning friendliness. You took a quick glance at the man and immediately regretted it. Darkened chocolate hair, rather tedious tweed outfit… but an incredibly intoxicating face. “This is my friend,” Lizzie begins to introduce you, but you chime in with your name and give Declan a small wave, to which he shoots you a small smile.

“I gave you her novel the other day. Did you get a chance to read it?” She asked, speaking in a hushed tone in order to avoid embarrassment.. she knew the answer would most definitely be a no. “I did, actually. I flicked through it last night.” Declan replied, raking a hand over his curled hair. Lizzie looked at you with wildly optimistic eyes, to which you nervously grinned. “Wh-what did you think?” You peeped, clearing your throat immediately after. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t ya’?” He smirked down at you, avoiding Lizzie’s unsettlingly persistent eye contact. Blushing wildly, you giggle and pick up a novel from the top of your almost-toppling pile. “Care for a signed copy?” You ask, a sanguine smile controlling your mouth. Declan scratched at his beard hesitantly and exhaled thunderously. “Go on then.” Clapping her hands in excitement, Lizzie pushed out a small ‘yay’, and equipped you with a pen. Scribbling your signature into the book, you pushed the copy towards him, keeping one hand on the cover. He repossessed it from you, brushing softly across your hand and smirking at you.

Figuring he may as well take his chance, Declan cleared his throat and pursed his lips in speech. “If ya’ free tonight, why don’t ‘ya come for a drink with me and go into more detail about ya’ filthy book?” A rare smile interrupted his question. “Oh… okay. Where’s good for a drink?” You question, flipping your hair to one side. “Ah, nowhere around here. Lizzie’ll tell ya’ which my house is. If you’re comfortable, I’m free tonight.” He murmurs, turning around and walking away from the table.

“Fuck. Me. Lizzie. He is gorgeous.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You couldn’t have been more embarrassed at how you handled the situation. “Oh God, Declan? No, no. Dirty.” Lizzie grimaced, turning her nose up at Mr O’Hara.

Some few hours after what seemed to be a semi-successful public appearance, you lay on your bed in solitude. Declan hadn’t left your mind the entire day. After some careful consideration, you decided to at least visit him for a very quick, very small drink. Curling your intricately long eyelashes and swiping gloss over your lips, you scanned yourself in your dressing table mirror — chestnut hair curled delicately and a tight floral dress hugging your curves, accessorised with a delicate pearl necklace and earrings. Taking a quick glimpse at the scrawled address that Lizzie had written for you, you begin to make the bitterly cold journey to The Priory.

Gently knocking on the front door of the luxurious country home, you waited nervously and replayed your earlier conversation in your head — unpicking on every stutter and incorrect word. “Oh. I didn’t think you were gonna come.” Declan spoke as he opened the door. Not quite the grand entrance you were expecting. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just thought-“ You begin to panic, instantaneously blushing and backing away from the door. After a few painfully uncomfortable seconds, Declan allowed himself a stifled chuckle as he extended the door to let you in. “Ahh, I’m just jokin’. Come in. Lounge is the first door on the right.”

Taking a demure seat on his sofa, you kept your hands bunched up in your lap, afraid of taking up too much space. “What do ya’ drink? Whiskey? Vodka?” He bellowed from the kitchen, voice overcome only by the sound of glasses chinking against each other. “A vodka and lemonade will do, thank you.” You smile, watching intently as Declan entered the living room, pouring out two drinks with a trembling hand. “Did you really like the book?” You ask, pulling your cigarette case from your petite, leather clutch bag and lighting it. Declan followed suit, and subsequently swiped the signed copy of your novel from his coffee table, opening it a quarter way through and reading a sentence aloud.

•

“Alice howled in intense sexual gratification as Edward swirled his fingertips across her swollen clitoris,” Declan began, voice assertive and proud, “Jesus Christ, how are ya’ even allowed to publish this?” He asked, barking out a laugh. Rubbing your lips together in self-consciousness. Declan took note of your diffidence and halted his laughter, coughing brashly from the fumes of his cigarette and reading the next sentence of your book inwardly. “Sorry. I, uh… didn’t mean ta’ embarrass ‘ya.” He sighs, as you knock back the entirety of your vodka. “Can I have another, please?” You ask, and Declan obliges, filling more than half the glass with vodka, and replicating the insane measurement in his own.

“It’s erotica, Declan. It’s very popular. Really, it reflects all of one’s needs and desires.” You tut, tucking a strand of chocolate hair behind your left ear. Halfway through a mouthful of vodka, Declan paused and glared at you. It was the first time he had noticed you — really noticed you. The hopeful glint in your lazuline eyes, the gentle undulations of your shapely figure, the sultry pursing of your reddened lips. Your cheeks glowed the most charming shade of rose as the vodka coursed through your veins. “So, what are your needs and desires?” He whispered, voice gravelly and coarse. “Read the next line.” You hush, taking another large swig of your drink. “Her wetness coated his fingers and his erection grew at the smell of her.” He reads, shifting himself in his seat uncomfortably. “It’s how every woman wants to be touched.” You whisper, inching closing to him and resting your head on your hand.

“Ya’ want me to touch ya’ like that?” Declan growled, pulling your knees apart gently and creeping his hand up your thigh. The heat emanating from your pussy made him grunt in pleasure. Shuffling slightly to allow your dress to ride up to the top of your thighs, Declan pulled at your knee once more until your legs were widely spread. He brought his finger to your clit and gasped, “No pants? Fuckin’ dirty girl.” You softly bite your bottom lip at his words. Nimbly swirling circles around your pink clit, you felt yourself dripping in excitement. You panted desperately at your heightened sensitivity. “Does that feel good?” He asked, delving two fingers inside you and moaning at your constriction around him. You squeaked out the smallest yes possible, pleasure making it impossible to formulate coherent sentences.

Removing his fingers from you and standing up, Declan unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his wildly hairy chest. Gazing at him with adoring eyes, you watched as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his boxers from his ankles. Sitting back down on the sofa and motioning for you to copy, you pulled your floral dress over your head and off — substantially large breasts bouncing through the rhythm. Grabbing your hand and pulling you onto his lap, Declan fervidly crashed your lips together in lust — tongue fighting it’s way into yours and hand reaching up to grab a tight handful of your left breast. Desperate for friction, you began to grind your clit against his firm cock, moans escaping through the gaps of your kiss.

Grabbing your petite waist, Declan hoisted you up slightly and lowered you back down onto his cock. A powerful groan left your lips, your pussy slowly stretching open over his girth. Moving his hands to grab handfuls of your area, flesh spilling between his fingers, he bounced you up and down, his head lulling back in pleasure. “Declan, you’re so fucking big.” You exclaim, steadying yourself on his shoulders. “Am I breaking ya’, my girl?” He grunted into your ear, setting the pace of a madman. The way he could so easily raise you up and down created the most powerful knots in your stomach. “Yes, and it feels so fucking good.” You moan.

Feeling you clench tighter around him, Declan moaned under his breath and released his hand, allowing you to set your own pace. Uncontrollable with ardour, you bounce on his cock with a frantic pace, evermore spurred on by his lustful reaction. “Keep goin’, my girl. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum inside ya’.” The Irishman grunted, keeping his hands by his side and allowing you to ride him to release. “Fuck, Declan. Cum for me. I want it so fucking bad.”

Lowering his head to take a nipple into his mouth, Declan moved his right hand to wrap around your waist, thrusting into you sloppily as he neared his ecstasy. “Are ya’ fuckin’ ready for it?” He asked, cock already twitching in anticipation. You nod lazily, losing control of your function. Grunting carnally as he shot his hot ropes of cum inside you, his grip around your waist tightened and you both panted together, relieved and exhausted. Slowly, lifting yourself from him, Declan watched as his seed dripped from your entrance — a successful symbol of your lovemaking.

“You look so fuckin’ good with my cum inside ‘ya.” He smirked, playing a firm smack on your arse. This would most definitely not be the last time you saw each other…

#rivals #rivals fanfic #rivals fanfiction #declan i fancy u <3 #declan o’hara x reader #declan o’hara #declan o hara #aidan turner #my own dreadful writing

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luvvyouforever · 10 days ago

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i am my father's daughter - declan o'hara x rupert's daughter!reader

synopsis: you knew you shouldn't be doing this, flirting with your dad's friend and business partner. but he's so irresistible!

content: age gap relationship (ages not specified), maud doesn't exist au, not very canon compliant just ignore it, nsfw themes, dbf trope, accidental tense switching (ignore it)

author's note: declan is sooooo hunky #needthat also this is a rather short piece but if you'd like to see a continuation of dbf declan, i would absolutely provide <3

you're quite positive that nobody has looked as good in a t-shirt as declan o'hara does now in the front of the priory's living room, leading an open discussion about what is next for the budding production company. his biceps flex underneath the thin material when he lifts his arm in a gesture and despite your efforts to remain focused on the conversation at hand, it's difficult when all you've been able to think about since he moved in is declan.

for a month or two after he and his two daughters moved in, he had been the sole object of your daydreaming. he was so strong, so intelligent, so witty on the television, so...everything.

however, there was little that you could do on that front, considering the last name that appears on your birth certificate and the fact that rupert campbell-black, your father, and declan hated each other. it was a rather difficult watch, the night declan interviewed him, but with rupert bonding with declan over their love for their small families, it became much easier to slink your way into his presence. thankfully.

then, it became regular to see declan in your home, or to see you and rupert in his. he was hard to depart from, what with his deep, thick accented voice and his wavy hair he kept running his hands through, and that t-shirt, that damn t-shirt. you lived in pure, unending agony for a while, having to be so close to him all the time without being able to give in to this torturous desire.

but then he started blatantly running a large hand over your back as he passed behind you and then he started making eye contact with you across the room and then he helped you with car troubles where he stood tantalizingly close behind you while showing you how to check your oil.

your father doesn't need to know that you've kissed and made out with and sucked off his friend and business partner. right?

when declan finishes his speech in the front of the living room, he makes his way through the crowd to the table in the back with a few drinks and refreshments laid out by taggie where you just so happen to be standing.

his eye contact with you is unwavering as he comes closer and closer to you and there's a smirk growing on his lips.

"could you be any more obvious with your ogling there, dear?" he says quietly once he reaches your side.

you scoff, but you know what he's saying is true. "i wasn't doing anything of the sort, mr o'hara. i'm just admiring your leadership and passion for venturer, is all," you whisper.

he leans against the table, then, watching as the crowd before him mingle with each other, completely oblivious to the conversation happening between you and him. even your father seems to be swept up into conversation on the other side of the room. he turns his neck side-to-side, clearly aware of the way that his shoulders and back tense underneath the tight shirt. your eyes betray your previous statement as they immediately flick to the sight, then flick downwards.

he chuckles and takes the smallest of steps closer to you. "so you like the shirt, then, i take it?"

a small blush overtakes your cheeks and you refuse to meet his eye. suddenly, you feel his body tilt towards yours, lips just before your ear.

"i can let you take it off me if you come over tonight."

his deep voice reverberated through your body, sending chills down your neck and spine. subconsciously, your back arched from the table you were learning on and he let out another laugh.

a few hours later, you found yourself slipping quietly out of penscombe, positively giddy. the walk to the priory was one you had done plenty of times and you knew it like the back of your hand, really. slowly, the centuries old building came into view and several feet up the wall was a window with its lights still on. declan's.

as he'd done before, he met you at the back door of the home, one that leads into the kitchen, a smug look on his face.

"you took my offer quite readily," he said. his big frame leaned against the door and he crossed his arms. still adorning him was that damn t-shirt.

"as if you weren't kicking your feet waiting for me," you retort, then come to stand before him.

he shakes his head then and a sly smile tilts the corners of his mouth up. he removes his body from the frame and steps to the side to let you inside. as you pass him, a firm hand comes down on your ass, making a small yelp escape your lips.

you turn suddenly and shoot him a glare. he just pats you again, a gesture to keep you moving forward. "get on up there, little minx. before your daddy realizes where you've gone, huh?"

you turn then and head for the stairs that lead up to his bedroom. declan didn't have to tell you much twice.

#declan o’hara #declan o’hara x reader #declan o'hara fic #rivals #rivals x reader #rivals fic #declan o'hara smut #aidan turner #rivals smut #rupert campbell black #declan o hara

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