Posting This Here Bc Tiktok Sucks And I Really Like How It Turned Out

nothing scarier than being a fan of a fic and then becoming mutuals with the author. like hi shakespeare. big fan of your fake dating au

PACKING IT UP ⌗ rafe cameron part 3

౨ৎ hockeyplayer!rafecameron x sportsjournalism!reader

the one where rafe cameron is the captain of the hockey team at university and where reader is a sports journalism student and needs to follow the hockey team around for the season and has the captain wrapped around her finger in no time

taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post

warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо

main masterlist ౨ৎ rafe masterlist ౨ৎ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ౨ৎ 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓

— 🎧 !! song of the day

💌 ﹒☆﹒ yourinstagram！ ✿

new instagram story

🏒 ﹒☆﹒ new twitter post

💌 ﹒☆﹒ yourinstagram！ ✿

new instagram story

🏒 ﹒☆﹒ rafe’s phone

new message notifications in gc ‘puckbunnies’

💌 ﹒☆﹒ yourinstagram！ ✿

new instagram story

💌 ﹒☆﹒ yourinstagram！ ✿

new post has been added

🏒 ﹒☆﹒ rafe’s phone

new message notification from ‘sarah’

💌 ﹒☆﹒ your phone

new notes saved

taglist - @mbella607 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @judesgfirl @4vanaa @lilithblackkk @kulekehe @akobx @barnesboo1967 @charli123456789 @fruitcakerafe @malibuhearts @heartsforrafecam @mrsdrewstarkeyy

Forbidden

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class.You're not too bothered by him, he's just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It's every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

3.0k

Add yourself to my tag list | Masterlist

I II III IV V

Tobey Brown is not a gentleman. You learn this more than once, all reasons congregating into one big fat turn off. Firstly, he’s late. By an hour. You’re sat waiting in your living room, no text, no call- and you think you’ve been stood up. You’re about to get changed again when your phone buzzes on your dresser, a text from the man of the hour saying here here. Secondly, he doesn’t apologise. For anything. For being late, for not texting. Thirdly, he eats like a pig.

The restaurant you’re in is fancy, flowers in a vase and candles lit on the table. You’ve opted for a glass of red wine, as well as a salmon plate that Tobey promised he’d pay for. He chose the greasiest burger on the menu, two sides of fries and a beer you’ve never heard of- and he did not hold back on eating like a famished child.

Despite all the above- you had to give it to him. He was very good at conversation and had a charming smile. You take a bite of your salmon, relishing in the flavour as you observe Tobey stuff his face before his eyes meet your own, and he smiles.

“How’s your food?” He asks and you nod, picking up some asparagus with your fork. “It’s really good, very flavourful. Yours?”

“Fucking wonderful, you should try some,” he holds the burger in your direction and you shake your head, picking at some more food on your own plate.

“Your loss,” he shrugs, taking another bite. You fall into silence, finishing your food before Tobey pays for the both of you, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you walk out of the restaurant and towards his car.

He opens the door for you, allowing you to slide in and shut the door behind you. He clambers into the drivers side and starts the car, back towards your apartment.

“So, what’s up with you and Rafe?” The question shocks you, snapping your head towards Tobey. He looks between you and the road every few seconds, face stoic as if he’s done nothing wrong.

“Nothing- why would you even think that?” He shrugs, taking a left onto a busier road. It’s dark in the car but you can still see the question lingering on his facial features.

“You two just look at each other with fuck me eyes,” he says, looking over again. You scoff under your breath, looking out of the window. Reason number four: he has no filter.

“I don’t know about him but I certainly do not give our teacher fuck me eyes.” You respond, grabbing your purse as he pulls up outside your estate. You know he’s going to ask you if you’ve had fun, and you’re really going to struggle holding your tongue.

This was a mistake. Tobey would make a great friend, or maybe a friends boyfriend that you speak to occasionally- but you did not want to see him again. Ever, really.

He puts the car in park and turns towards you, clearing his throat. “I uh, had fun tonight.”

You give him a tight lipped smile, nodding your head. “Me too,” it comes out more forced than you would like, and you wince, gripping your purse tighter.

“Okay, goodnight!” He says, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. It leaves a little wet patch where his lips were and you cringe internally, wishing him goodnight too before getting out of his car. You scan your card and open the sidewalk gate, glancing over your shoulder to see him already turning around on the other side of the gate.

Such a gentleman.

It takes you five minutes to reach your apartment, and when you do, there’s a figure sat on your front step. Broad shoulders, buzzed head.

Fucking Rafe Cameron. He’s holding both his hands in his lap, staring down at them until he hears the click of your heels on the sidewalk and he looks up, quickly standing as you walk up the path to your door.

You don’t address him, shoving your key in the lock and opening your door. You go to close it, until his hand stops it, leaning down to look at you.

“Can I talk to you, please?” He all but begs, leaving in the doorway so you can’t shut it. You want to roll your eyes, pressing your lips together.

“No. Go away,” you go to close the door again but he’s just too strong, barely budging as you try your hardest. You see a glimmer of a smirk etch on his lips before it disappears again, scratching the back of his head.

“Please, five minutes. Then I’m gone,” he whispers, and you contemplate it. You don’t know how long he’s been sat there, or how he even got in- like when he left the flowers the other day. Five minutes of your time with Rafe seemed a lot more promising than whatever you had just had with Tobey, and you sigh. You couldn’t think of what he could possibly tell you that would make the situation any better.

“Five minutes and then you go back where you came from,” you announce, opening the door to let him inside. He nods and steps into your home, taking his shoes off at the door as you shut it. You let him follow you into the kitchen, standing at the sink as you fill up a glass of water. He drums his hands on the other side of the island, keeping his distance.

“You’ve got a nice apartment,” he mumbles, and you turn, eyebrow raised. “Four minutes.”

You lean against the island, waiting for him to say anything. He doesn’t. He looks down at you, eyes trying to find your soul, you’re sure.

It makes you shiver, but you refuse to fall under his spell again.

“Three minutes,” you say, checking your phone.

“Whatever you saw wasn’t what you saw,” he begins. “She came to the classroom with a letter from her father about her grades and I was laughing because she tried to buy grades from me,” he huffs, spitting out the words so fast you’re surprised you understood them.

“When she pushed my shoulder I told her to leave but she wasn’t having it. Nothing happened, I promise.” You take a sip of water, letting the information sink in. You nod, slowly. That doesn’t surprise you, considering it’s Kendra that he’s on about.

“Okay. Still doesn’t change what I said,” you respond, placing your glass on the side. He groans, and you can feel the exasperation in his tone.

“Look- I didn’t want her to be there okay, she just wouldn’t leave.”

Rafe’s knuckles are turning white where he’s gripping the counter top. “But that doesn’t matter, Rafe, because I’m not your girlfriend or anything along those lines. She can come and go as she pleases.”

He runs a hand down his face, eyes meeting your own again. “I don’t want her to come and go, I want you.”

Silence. You’re not sure what to say, throat closing. He rounds the island, closer than ever, and you can feel your resolve crumbling. You’re quickly losing a fight with yourself. He’s doing it again, being so- Him, turning you mushy and stupid and not able to form a thought.

His hands come up to your shoulders, closing the distance between you. “I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you since that kiss,” his hand grasps your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I know what it looked like, but it wasn’t that. She doesn’t matter to me.” The way he’s speaking to you sounds like he’s in love with you, and it’s so overwhelming. Your head is spinning and you pull out of his grasp, stumbling away. Your legs carry you to your bedroom door, opening it and taking a seat on your bed.

You can hear Rafe’s footsteps padding towards the door. Your mind is jumbled, not quite understanding what’s happening. You can’t wrap your brain around any thoughts. All you’d done is kiss the man. He couldn’t be this serious.

Rafe kneels in front of you. “You okay?” He asks, placing his hands on your knees. The touch burns, contrasting against the icy thickness everywhere else on your body.

You reach up a hand, rubbing your eye. “I’m not sure. Confused.” He nods, taking a seat next to you. It’s silent, giving you time to rearrange your head, when Rafe speaks again.

“Why were you at campus that night?” You’re staring at the wall, trying to find the best answer. I was coming to fuck you doesnt sound so great, you think- but then neither does anything else you try.

“I uh- I was coming to see you,” he laughs, shaking the bed beneath you slightly. “Yeah? What for?” There’s no more seriousness or heaviness in his tone and you’re thankful.

“Uni work,” you lie, hoping he believes it. He scoffs, folding his hands down in his lap. “And what about today? Where were you?”

You skim your eyes over to him, his gaze heavy down on you. “I was on a date,” he stiffens. You can feel it, through the bed, the way his body almost freezes.

“That’s- cool. Who with?” He asks. You can’t quite believe the audacity of the way he’s asking questions, like you owe him your entire life. You’ve kissed him once.

Once.

“Tobey, if you must know,” his jaw clenches, you can see from the corner of your eye. He stands, walking over to your dresser, picking up a picture of you and Molly. It’s like he’s trying to distract himself, the silence lingering over the both of you as you think of something to say.

Do you tell him to leave? Tell him that you’re not into whatever’s going on? You know you don’t want either.

“Was it good?” He asks, suddenly. You observe as he drums his fingers on the top of the dresser, turning to look at you. He looks angry.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Rafe.” His jaw ticks.

“Yeah, you’re right. My bad,” his tone has changed, face stone like as he looks around your room. Your phone buzzes on the bed, a text from Tobey himself, asking if he can take you on another date. You can see Rafe also looking down at your phone.

“He’s not a good kid,” he says, clicking his tongue. You ponder about responding to Tobey to piss him off, but with the way Rafe is looking at you right now, he could murder you. You think. And it scares you.

“You’re not much better,” you bite back, huffing and standing. You want him to leave now. You walk over to the door, about to reach for the handle to open it, when you’re pushed up against the door.

Rafe’s lips are on your own, clashing against you as you fight desperately not to give in. There’s just a way that he gets you, within a matter of seconds, like the last time you kissed- where you wanted more. And you’re feeling that now. More than ever.

It’s so erotic, the way he’s pressing all into you, kissing you- and you finally kiss back. He smirks into the kiss, hand coming up to wrap around your neck as his lips ghost up to your ear.

“I’ll show you I’m better,” he kisses you again, hands working on pushing your leather jacket down your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his neck, sighing as he moves his kisses down your neck where he can reach further without the jacket in the way.

“Don’t need anybody else when I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, plucking a strap of your corset off your shoulder and letting it fall down your arm.

“Rafe,” you sigh. “This is wrong,” you’re slowly finding your conscience, grasping onto reality about how wrong the situation is again- but Rafe just laughs.

“Bit late for that, sweetheart. Should’ve thought about that before you turned up in these outfits to my classes,” his voice is gruff and he presses inbetween your legs, hands wrapping around the backs of your thighs. He taps and you don’t protest, jumping slightly to allow him to lift you up. You can feel all of him at once and you gasp, head lolling to the side.

He’s right, you think. You’re way past the realm of reason. There is truly no going back. Rafe is staring into your eyes, like he’s waiting for what you say next, lips swollen. You can tell he’s trying so hard not to grind into you- to do anything, and it makes you swell.

“Fuck it,” you say, leaning forward and knocking your lips to his own again. He groans, lifting you from the door as he no longer holds back. He drops you onto your bed, slotting inbetween your legs, wasting no time. You’re moaning as he grinds down on you, kissing down your neck, pushing your other corset strap down and freeing your boobs from the tight material.

One of his hands reaches up and grabs a handful as his lips wrap around the other and you whine out, arching into his thrusts. Rafe groans again, swapping sides on your chest. His other hand reaches down between you, bunching your skirt up your waist and grabbing at the edge of your tights, almost yanking them down your legs.

He breaks away from your boobs, grinning as he slides down the bed.

“Fuck me, all this for me?” He questions, looking down at your panties. They’re soft pink lace, currently soaked with your arousal. He traces the pad of his thumb over the top of you and you jolt, leaning up on your arms to watch him. He’s painfully grinding against the edge of the bed as his eyes meet your own.

“Please, can I?” He asks and you nod, faster than you think you ever have. He grins again, thumb reaching to the edge of your panties and pushing them to the side. It’s lewd as he uses two fingers to spread you open, observing everything.

“Please, Rafe- touch me,” you all but beg, desperate for him to do anything. You wonder if you’re dreaming, with his unreal this feels- but then he sinks a finger into your hole and you know you’re wide awake. So, so wide awake.

You moan, his pace slow as he watches his finger sink in and out of you. “You’re a fucking dream,” he mumbles, eyes glazed over. You push your hips forward, trying to make him move faster, his other hand coming up to hold your hips.

“Not so fast, I’m enjoying this,” he says, grinning as you still try move anyway. He sinks another finger in and you moan at the stretch, hips stuttering under his hand.

“Shit, please Rafe, please,” you moan out, his pace slowing to a stop. Rafe is smirking over at you, eyes hooded, knuckle deep in you. “What do you want?” He asks, humour in his tone.

You breathe deeply, trying to move your hips again. “Please Rafe, please,”

“I’m not quite understanding, what do you want?” He asks again and you groan. “Please fuck me rafe, please,”

He grins. “I love that you’re not cocky anymore, sweetheart. Begging looks good on you.” His fingers are moving faster now, faster than you’d expected, and it shocks you. He reaches so deep, curling his fingers at the right place to make you fall back onto the bed. You can hear him rutting his hips against the bed but you don’t care, chasing your own high on his fingers.

“Such a good girl, look at you.” You hear him say, but you’re too focused and far away to actually respond. You hear him chuckle, a third finger prodding at your entrance. “Let me in, cmon, relax,” he mumbles and you do, feeling the burn and stretch from a third finger.

You feel so full, so close to the edge. Your hands grasp your sheets, whimper after whimper slipping out of your mouth. He curls his fingers in a certain spot and you cry out. “I’m gonna cum,” it’s almost a scream as Rafe shushes you, speeding up his fingers.

You finally fall off the edge, gasping and moaning as Rafe stills his hips against the bed, fingers slowing to match your clenching around them.

You finally relax, clouds at the edge of your vision.

“Fuck me,” you whisper and you hear him chuckle again, pushing your panties back to the side. You eventually sit up, leaning back on your palms.

“You were right,” you say, watching as he shuffles his pants. You don’t mention the wet spot on them.

“Oh yeah, about what?”

“You’re better,” he smiles at you, opening the bedroom door. You wonder where he’s going, why he isn’t staying- but then you remember. You just got fingered by your teacher, and he probably didn’t want to be anywhere near you.

“I’ll uh- let you out,” you awkwardly skim around him, pulling your skirt back down the hallway to the front door. Rafe’s hand captures your shoulder and he spins you around, his lips meeting your own. He kisses you for a second, before pulling back and looking at you.

“I wanna see you again.”

Notes ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Uhhhhhh hello it’s getting hot n heavy in here 🫣 more smut and more drama to come !!!

Tags ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

4 Everything

@dudenhaaa27 @outerbankspov @ayy1234567 @rxfecameronsslut @potter-head-phanatic @lilithblackkk @akobx @nina357 @percysley @kundaquarius @elyseesarchive @purplerose291 @saturneni @rafedaddy01 @cnnamongrl @blowbunny @hoelessyt @rafesdoe @ilovefiction4lmen @supernaturalwriter @wh0re4drewstarkeu @fals3-g0d @unsaidjaelinrose @janepetersonxxx @drewbears @twinklstarrrr @twinge-vix @itsthecline @slut4you @idgasb @demitralover @fishingirl12 @alesswift-blog @lost-in-1ife @princesseva @valeriaruins @acidfeens @folklorefy @daysis-stuff @cherryc0la93 @drewsphswife @hannahrlh @t0nkinz @xxorazz @meowmeowmeowmeow-meow

Just forbidden

@masonmountme69 @noobmazter69 @amaranth-writing @rafecameronswifeyy @hwaaholic @slutxuall @innocentmindedgirl @casoro1626 @hugposey @rafesgiirl @jaymesmaud @littlewhiterose @vanngguk @yeslifeofateen @trapistani @pillowprincess4him @lollylottie @pleasantgladiatorcreation @aaronstan @sarakpalsd @02010802 @maysgotbaes @addictedtothisyoungman @dkkhrr @Thoughfulboquetalpaca @cantbenamed @tortadeabobora @hauntswift @diarem @jodecivantee @10ava01 @lifeoffleabag @rafeshoeeee

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫

context: waking up alone in Rafe’s bed after hooking up the night before (female pogue reader)

warnings: a little nsfw so minors dni

character: Rafe Cameron from outer banks

m.list

taglist: @evelynffics

y’all my show is oonnnn

Kildare Elementary: Part Two

Synopsis: 7 years ago, you and your best friend got drunk at a party and you ended up having a baby. You guys gave your relationship a shot, but he has always been in love with someone else. So, you guys remained friends after your daughter was born and you moved to the next town over. Now, there's an opening at the school all of your friends work at, and you are itching to take it. Perfect, right? Well, it would be if your classroom didn't somehow get moved next to your childhood crush and you can't tell if he is flirting with you or just really bad with technology. Inspired by Abbott Elementary and @zyafics HB:L!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader/Past!JJ Maybank x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist:

@onelonelybitch @callsign-mirage @akobx @lilahrosee @jaydaaasworld @mileyraes @ethanthequeefqueen @pogueprincesa @davinashifts333 @daysis-stuff @leather-n-velvet @dearluuna @naylanae-0308 @vviolets444rroses @hadids-world @athenalovesgoodies @venic-bxtch @justdamnpeachy @my-name-is-baby @marleymarleymarleymarley @linasdiaries @sage-burrow @pastryboyyy @sunflouer04 @inthelibrarybtw @aesthetic-lyss @acidfeens @jun1p3rlol @beebeerockknot @voidangxls

trying to break up with your fuck buddy, rafe

rafe paces. back and forth. hand running through his hair, jaw tight, eyes sharp with something between frustration and disbelief.

‘you want to stop?’ his voice is even, but there’s an edge to it.

you nod, arms crossed over your chest. ‘yeah.’

‘why?’ his head tilts, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for an answer that actually makes sense to him.

‘i don’t like what this is turning me into,’ you say, voice steady. ‘it’s not who i am. and i don’t want it to be.’

he exhales sharply, turning on his heel and pacing again. ‘where is this coming from?’

‘i’m not blaming you for anything, rafe.’ you sigh, feeling the weight of this conversation sink into your bones. ‘i just realized i don’t want to be another girl in your rotation.’

he stops mid-step, turning to face you. ‘rotation?’

you hold his gaze. ‘you know what i mean.’

his jaw tenses. ‘you knew what this was,’ he says, voice low, careful.

‘i did,’ you agree. ‘and now i know i don’t want it.’

he drags a hand down his face, shaking his head. ‘i thought everything was fine.’

‘it was,’ you admit. ‘but i’m a ‘girlfriend’ kind of girl, rafe. i have boyfriends, not fuck buddies.’

rafe lets out a dry laugh, almost disbelieving. he starts pacing again, steps restless, like he needs to move or he’ll explode.

then, from outside, a familiar voice cuts through the tension.

‘rafe! come on, man, we’re waiting!’ topper, followed by laughter and girls’ voices, high and sweet.

your stomach turns, but you don’t react. instead, you nod toward the door.

‘you should go,’ you say softly.

a pause, a sharp inhale. his jaw clenches. ‘we’re not done.’

‘i said what i needed to say.’ you swallow the lump in your throat. ‘you have girls waiting for you.’

he stops pacing. his expression hardens. ‘you think that’s what this is about?’

‘i think it doesn’t matter,’ you answer. ‘because you’re not my boyfriend, and you don’t owe me anything.’

his hands curl into fists at his sides. ‘you’re doing that thing again.’

‘what thing?’

‘acting like you don’t care.’

you inhale sharply. ‘i do care, rafe. that’s the problem.’

something flickers in his expression. for the first time, he looks uncertain. like this wasn’t supposed to happen. like he never considered the possibility of you walking away.

he starts pacing again, steps quicker now, frustration rolling off him in waves. ‘so what? you’re just done?’

you nod. ‘yeah.’

he stops. looks at you. then, after a beat, he says, ‘fine.’

you hesitate. ‘fine, what?’

‘i’ll be your boyfriend.’

you blink, caught off guard. ‘what?’

‘you want a relationship?’ he shrugs, like it’s the easiest fix in the world. ‘done.’

‘that’s not how this works.’

‘why not?’ his voice is sharper now, defensive. ‘you said you don’t want to be just another girl— fine. be my girlfriend.’

you shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping. ‘jesus, rafe.’

‘what?’

‘you don’t even want to be my boyfriend. you just don’t want to see me with someone else.’

his jaw tightens, and for the first time, he stops pacing. stands still.

‘you can’t just decide to be in a relationship because you don’t like the idea of losing me,’ you say, voice softer now. ‘that’s not love, rafe. that’s possession.’

his lips part slightly, but no words come out.

‘you don’t know how to do this,’ you continue gently. ‘how to be with someone in a way that isn’t just about control.’

he exhales, slow and deep, fingers rubbing at his jaw as he looks away for a moment. when he meets your gaze again, there’s something different there. hesitation, sure. but also something you weren’t expecting.

fear.

‘i don’t want to lose you,’ he admits, voice quiet now.

your breath catches. ‘then be better.’

rafe swallows. ‘tell me how.’

‘you already know how,’ you whisper. ‘you just have to choose it.’

the silence stretches between you again, but this time, it’s different.

it’s not heavy. it’s hopeful.

then, from outside, topper calls out again. ‘rafe! you coming or what?’

rafe doesn’t even look toward the door.

‘nah,’ he calls back, eyes still locked on yours. ‘i’m good.’

your heart was about to try to break out from behind your ribs.

his gaze softens. ‘stay?’

you hesitate. ‘rafe—’

he shakes his head, stepping closer. ‘if i say i can do this, then i can do this.’

you search his face for the lie, the excuse, the escape route he’s bound to take. but there isn’t one.

he raised your hands to his mouth and kissed the tip of each of your fingers in turn. your thumb, your index finger, your middle finger, your ring finger, finally your pinky, and then, your gaze caught the black cross that rested on the centre of his chest.

you wonder if his heart beats steadily.

his lips twitch, just slightly, into the kind of smirk that used to make you roll your eyes. ‘i’ll be the last boyfriend you’ll have,’ he murmurs. ‘you’ll see.’

your chest tightens, but this time, it’s not with dread.

‘okay,’ you whisper.

he grins, triumphant. ‘yeah?’

you exhale, a small smile creeping onto your lips despite yourself.

‘yeah.’

an. inspired by rory and logan.

december will be full of abundance

december will be full of love

december will be full of family

december will be full of self care

december will be full of studying

december will be full of good grades

december will be full of fun

december will be full of discipline

december will be full of cute clothes

december will be full of winter shows

december will be full of makeup purchases

december will be full of cozy blankets

december will be full of hot chocolate

december will be full of fun activities

december will be full of working towards goals

december will be full of everything my heart desires and more

capital b, capital o, capital a, capital f. BOAF!!!

THEY EVEN FUCKING WALK THE SAME

FREAK LIKE ME .ᐟ

summary: you’re all leopard print, cherry lip glosses and the prettiest thing art donaldson had ever saw in his life. but behind all that, you might be the biggest sex freak he also had the pleasure to meet. inspiration: freak by doja cat.

pairing: dilf ceo art donaldson x younger fem reader.

cw: +18. mdni. 1.6k words. kinda plot kinda not. use of the word “daddy” sexually. mention of c!ckwarming. fem self-touching. slight chocking. oral s!x fem receiving. escort kinda reader.

You were a walking temptation from the very first moment he saw you.

Smiling with that sticky-sweet gloss coating your lips, gum popping lazily between your teeth, a leopard print dress hugging every curve like sin itself. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floors with every step, too high to be anything but unholy. You looked like a reward, like a treat—something made to be admired and ruined in equal measure.

Art Donaldson, forty-one, CEO, and already a man who had seen more than his fair share of pretty things, couldn’t help the way you caught his attention that night. Maybe it was the way you laughed too easily, how you tilted your head when he talked about business, all wide-eyed and sugary sweet, like you were just a little confused but so eager to learn. Maybe it was the way you wrapped your hand around his arm, all flirty and innocent, like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.

He should’ve known then—what kind of monster you really were underneath all that pink and pout.

But he didn’t. Not until you showed up at his place one night with nothing but that same gloss, a fur-trimmed coat, and matching panties that disappeared under the hem of a dress so short it could have been a belt. Not until you crawled into his lap and asked, in that breathy baby voice, “Can I just warm myself on your cock while we watch this, Daddy? I promise I won’t move…”

And he had said yes. Of course he had.

You were his weakness. A real, living indulgence. His little bunny.

He took you to dinners with his associates like a proud fucking trophy, watching them all try not to stare when you crossed your legs too slowly or licked sugar from the rim of your martini glass. You'd whisper something ridiculous in his ear—do they know I don’t wear panties when I’m with you, Daddy?—and he’d have to clench his jaw not to drag you under the table and shut you up with his fingers.

You were smart, and he knew it. Smarter than you let on. All that dizzy sweetness? The pouty lips and dumb-little-girl act? A weapon. A way to make him melt; say yes, buy you things, bend over backwards just for a chance to hear you whimper please again.

God, you were his undoing. And tonight? Tonight, you were in rare form.

He found you in his library, curled up in the window seat pretending to read some leather-bound novel you’d picked out just for show. One of his favorites—he knew you weren’t even five pages in. Not with your legs spread the way they were, one heel kicked off and the other dangling from your toes. No panties. Of course.

You were touching yourself, slow and lazy, like you were waiting for him to notice.

He didn’t say a word at first. Just stood in the doorway, watching the slow movement of your fingers between your legs. You were slick already—he could see it from here.

“You couldn’t wait for me?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You looked up from the book like you were surprised. Like he’d interrupted something terribly important. “I missed you,” you said, all sweet and breathless. “Needed a little help getting through this part…”

He was in front of you in seconds, yanking the book from your lap and tossing it across the room like it was worthless. His hand was around your throat next, not tight, just enough to tilt your head back and make you look at him.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he growled, thumb dragging across your bottom lip, pushing past it like he owned your mouth. “Always teasing. Always playing dumb. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, doll?”

You moaned around his thumb, eyes fluttering as drool slid past your lips.

He shoved you back into the cushions and dropped to his knees, tearing your thighs apart like he’d been starved for days. And maybe he had. Maybe it had only been hours since he last had you, but with you, it never felt like enough.

He buried his mouth in your warmth without a word, lapping at your sweetness like you were the only thing that could quench his thirst. You tasted like need, like candy and sin and everything he wasn’t supposed to want.

And you made the prettiest sounds—high, desperate whines, hips bucking into his face despite your shaky little hands trying to be good, trying not to move. Trying to not tug on his hair to bring his head closer and closer to where you wanted him the most.

“Daddy—Daddy, I was just—oh fuck, please,” you gasped, head thrown back as he sucked your clit between his lips, relentless. The pleasure felt like a sin.

“Quiet,” he growled, voice muffled. “You wanted to be a brat, now you take what I give you.”

You came like that after a moment—fast and messy, thighs trembling, lips parted to gasp. Art got up from the floor while licking his lips, moved you from the window seat by picking you up, letting you rest onto his lap where it was the most comfortable.

Your lashes fluttered as you leaned into him, curled on his lap like you belonged there—because you did. You always did.

His fingers slid up your thigh, not to tease this time, but to just feel. Possessive. Big hand gripping you tight. You sighed like a spoiled kitten, satisfied to be right where you wanted to be: draped over Art Donaldson like you were his prize, his good girl, his best mistake.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you murmured, voice barely above a pout, head tipping back to catch his eyes. “Like you’re about to eat me up.”

He smirked, thumb brushing along the corner of your sticky lip gloss coated mouth. “Because I might do, again.”

You giggled, but there was a flush in your cheeks that betrayed how badly you loved it. How desperately you loved him—that dark, commanding look he gave you when the world melted away. When it was just you and him. Your age didn’t matter. Your fake ditzy act didn’t matter. The whispers, the disapproval, the stares from women who wished they were in your place—they didn’t matter either.

None of it mattered when Art looked at you like you were the only thing that could bring him to his knees. “Was it always like this?” you whispered against his jaw. “With the others?”

He stilled, brows furrowing slightly, and that quiet weight settled in his chest again. He tilted your chin so you had no choice but to look at him. “No, doll. Not even close.” And you believed him. You always had.

Because no one else got this part of him. The man who’d built an empire from steel and stones now crumbled with just a look from you. His patience unraveled when you kissed the underside of his jaw. His control broke when you wore something too short just to test him. And God, you loved to test him.

“You ruin me,” he said lowly, against your temple. “And I let you.”

You smiled, smug and soft, because you knew it was true. You were his weak spot. His sin. The pretty little thing he should’ve resisted—but never could.

And deep down, you liked the way he broke his own rules for you. How he brought you into rooms you didn’t belong in and dared anyone to question it. How he kissed your shoulder in passing at business dinners, fingers grazing the back of your thigh like a promise only you understood.

Art Donaldson didn’t need a reason to spoil you. He didn’t need an excuse to fly you somewhere just to watch you twirl in front of him in another too-tight dress. He never asked why you were always pushing boundaries—because the truth was, he loved it.

He loved your chaos. Your softness. Your hunger. And maybe, just maybe… you loved him too.

You didn’t say it. Not out loud. But the way your fingers curled into his shirt said enough. The way your nose nuzzled into his neck said everything. That greedy, bratty girl who made him lose his mind was also the one who made him feel like a man again—not just a name behind magazines or a suit in a boardroom.

“Come home with me,” he said quietly. You blinked, surprised. “I already live with you.”

“No,” he said, voice rough now, like he was trying not to say too much. “I mean it. Come home with me. Let me show you I’m serious. I want… more than this.” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, mascara still a little smudged from earlier sins. “More?”

He nodded, thumb tracing your cheek like he was memorizing it. “All of it. Not just the games. Not just the sex. I want you in my bed every night, not just when you’re bored or bratty or begging. I want you mine—for real.”

You swallowed hard. And maybe you should’ve played dumb again. Teased him. Danced around the words like you always did. But instead, you nodded. “Okay.”

Art leaned in and kissed you then—not with the filthy heat of earlier, but something deeper. Slower. As if he was making a vow with his mouth pressed to yours. You could still taste your essence from his lips, and almost moaned at it.

You were still his freak. His bunny. His good girl in leopard heels and too much perfume. But now, you were something else, too. His future. And he’d never let you forget it.