countryclubwh0re - Tumblr blog

[countryclubwh0re]

thinking about how re4 leon fucks 🎀

ofc minors dni

we all know this man is pent up.

so its pretty desperate, intense, sometimes even needy

it’s cute, how he seems to deflate once he’s inside. the way all his stress and worries dissolve as soon as he gets you wrapped around him.

at first, his pace isn’t out of this world, but the hardness of his thrusts make you see stars. he pulls back, back, back and then slams himself back in.

his head is buried in the crook of your neck, fingers roughly gripping your hips as he tugs you down to meet his thrusts. he’s sucking harshly on your neck so he doesn’t release the sounds bubbling up in his throat, but kisses the area delicately afterwards. cutie

mostly fucks you in missionary, especially after one of his missions. he’s tired, exhausted even, of seeing so much death and basically being a government puppet. his respite is you, your body, your soul.

when he’s not in your neck, his pretty blue eyes are staring right into yours intensely. sometimes he’ll even reach up and hold your hand tightly. he tells himself it’s for you, to ground you whilst hes pounding you into the mattress, but it’s secretly for him too. you’re here, you’re his.

of course, being away from you for sometimes weeks at a time, leaves him all stored up. his pace will pick up, the lewd sound of skin slapping will grow faster, and so will your sounds. also the headboard banging against the wall… he will break your bed numerous times.

he’ll praise you, whispering how good you are for him, how good you always take him. calling you his pretty girl, his good girl, hishishis. not his to share with the government, not his temporarily, no. you’re his, and you’re not going anywhere.

when he gets close, his mouth will gape and quick pants and, if you listen closely, tiny whimpers come from him. his thrusts become sloppy, his hips and cock twitching, and he always always has to kiss you hard and wet to muffle the loud moan he makes when he cums.

most of the time, you’ll go for another round. okay, a few more rounds. a lot.

but sometimes, if you’re both too tired, he’ll clean you both up, and wrap his strong arms around you and hold you tight n’ close, almost in a suffocating way, and cuddle you to sleep. his hold leaves no room for movement, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you love him, and want to be close to him.

his pretty baby💕

[countryclubwh0re]

Take my hand and walk with me here

Imagine Art being a nerdy, little baby freshman at Stanford, tennis can only get him so far :((

And he literally drools at the sight of you, you're a junior/senior, a sorority sister, perfect and popular, and you sit two seats down from him in one of his classes.

You like Art, ofc you do, his mousy eyes and beautiful, unruly hair, he's adorable.

It doesn't take long before you have him under you in bed, and he's just so scared bc some woman who's hot and a few years older is straddling his dick.

And you refuse to get off when he cums, locking your thighs around his hips as he thrusts up into you, hands planted on his chest as you continue to rolls your hips against him.

You're gonna be the death of him.

[countryclubwh0re]

Breaking Dishes - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

🪄 re-uploaded because I had to make a new account

⭐ original published in January for context (<- it'll make more sense at the end)

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Warning: SMUT, lots of pet names, lovey Rafe, friends to lovers, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v

📖 Rafe’s best friend helps him make the best of his buzz cut era and he gets whatever he’d like in exchange.

✨"Do you think about me a lot, y/n?" He breathes.

"Yes," you press out the word through a moan.

"And you wanted to know what my hands could do. Didn't you? I've seen the way you look at me," he taunts. "Are they doin' it for you, Y/N?" He works you a little harder.✨

2.8k (<- mostly smut)

Readers POV:

“It hurts.”

“Does it hurt? Or does it itch? There’s a difference.

"Both, Y/N… This is fuckin’ stupid.”

“No. Nah. Nope… What was stupid was the fact that you, a grown-ass man, didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

“That’s what you’re for.”

You flick your eyes from his hair to the mirror, catching him with your death stare. “Keep going." He gives you a shit-eating grin, making you fight off a smile of your own.

"This has to be done." He looks at his hair in the mirror, the bleach altering his dark blonde buzz to an icy white.”

“Almost," you sing, running your polished nail through the bleach, eyeing your work.

"And I get whatever I want if I do this. Yeah?”

“Anything you’d like.”

Anything.

It started simply with you and Rafe. He looked like a pouty little man-child, holding his Ralph Lauren polo by the shoulders, his privilege showing as he eyed the streaked bleach stain across the front. This sort of shit had gone on for days. First, it was no detergent, then fabric softener only, followed by straight bleach on the third day. He looked pathetic, desperate to accomplish this simple task. You helped him on the fourth day, sparking a friendship in the process, making your first year at college a little easier.

There was so much stuff he just didn’t know how to do… Stuff that he could fully figure out on his own, but if he did… Then, he wouldn’t need you. And both of you knew that.

There was a spark. There always was. But this time, it was a loaded exchange. You do this for me, and I’ll do anything you’d like, Rafey.

“Purple shampoo?” He mumbles.

“I’m being proactive. Gotta tone it. Don’t question it,” you giggle, emulsifying the shampoo, watching the suds and bleach swirl down the sink. “Gah… Looks so fucking good." He grunts in reply. "Stay here." You run over to the rack, grabbing a fluffy white towel. "Stop!”

“What? Why? It’s my hair, Y/N. Jesus fuck.”

“‘Cause… It’s a surprise," you practically growl out the words through your excitement, swathing the towel around his head, pawing out the water.

"What am I gonna do if this looks like shit?”

“It won’t. It won’t," you smile. "What are you gonna tell Topper?" 

"That I lost a bet. I don’t know. You’re takin’ advantage of me, y/n.”

“You’re the only person I know with a buzz cut, Cameron. It fits your aesthetic. Lean into it.”

“I’m not leaning into shit.”

“Stand up.” You feel your cheeks redden as Rafe rises from his hunched-over position in the sink, his muscular frame bare, just a pair of gray sweats on his tight body. “You blushing, Y/N?" He asks as a cocky smile spreads on his lips. You bite yours, casting your gaze away as you try to collect yourself. "I look that good. Huh?" He taunts, hooking his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to his. You stare into reach beautiful baby blues, feeling your heart start to race.

"Yeah, Cameron.”

He bites his cheek, holding back an all-too-wide smile as his cheeks redden as well. You reach up, tapping the high point of his face, silently calling him out. “Got me," he whispers, making your heart flutter. "Alright… So, can I look?" You smile and nod. Rafe turns on his heels, eyes widening as he takes himself in. He goes through all the emotions at once, landing on a meh. His lip tugs slightly, shoulders shrugging in acceptance."It’s not that bad…”

“I love it," you praise, smiling brightly back at him.

"You’re way too fuckin’ excited about this, Y/N.”

“Nah… You wouldn’t get it.”

“M'Kay. What now?” He cops a slight attitude, unenthused with the rest of your request. You snatch your phone out of your pocket, flicking to your camera, turning it on record. “NO!" He rips it out of your hand, turning it off before passing it back.

"What…" You pout.

"The fuck do you have to record this for?”

“Me!”

“What are you gonna do with it, Y/N? This goes nowhere.”

“It’s just for me, Rafey. Jesus Christ. Calm your tits.”

“Don’t tell me to calm my tits," he huffs. "I’m so fuckin’ serious, Y/N.”

“I promise,” you answer earnestly. “And, you have to say the thing.”

“I forgot.”

“Bullshit.”

“When?” He crosses his arms before his chest, his hip popped slightly.

“After I start the song, of course,” you tease. “Alexa play Breaking Dishes by Rihanna.”

“This is weird,” he snips, looking down at you disgustingly.

“It’s alright, baby girl. You don’t have to get it.”

“Don’t call me baby girl, Y/N,” he huffs as the song starts to build.

“Fine. Alright, Rafey. Lights, Camera, Action.”

“A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an…”

Rafe rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth, throwing his arms to his sides. His ab muscles flex more than before, making you squeal internally. Fuck, he looks good.  Your eyes widen, threatening him with your glare to say his fucking line. “Snow always lands on top.”

“Ah! Yes, Rafey!” You press the little red button, ending the recording, letting out a delighted squeal before jumping into his arms. His eyes fall down your body, roaming back up nice and slow. Rafe’s gaze gets stuck on your lips, wetting his own, tension building between the two of you as you wait to see if he’ll ask for what you both want.

“You know, Y/N… I wouldn’t do this shit for anybody else," he mumbles. 

"I know," you smile. "So, what do you want, Rafe?" You ask, drawing his focus back to your gaze.

"Helped you set up that big mirror last week," he rasps.

"Mhmm…”

“Wanna fuck you in front of it, Y/N." You feel your stomach flip, your heart instantly picks up pace.

"Oh.”

“That okay?" He asks, leaning in slightly.

"Yeah… That’s okay.”

“You want that?" He smiles; his lips mere centimeters from yours, breathing softly against yours.

"Yeah.”

“Words, Y/N," he whispers.

"I want you to fuck me in front of the mirror, Rafe," you respond, voice hoarse and breathy as your nerves start to get the better of you. Everything fades away as Rafe’s lips crash into yours, taking your breath away, claiming your mouth against his. Heat rolls over your skin. Your body starts to tingle, hands moving from his neck, wrapping around his broad shoulders tightly, drawing him closer. His lips are sweet, just like you expected. A soft moan escapes your lips, landing in his. You feel him smile against your kiss, making you do the same.

"You sure this is okay?" He mumbles between kisses as he walks with you into your bedroom.

”Perfect.“ Rafe’s tongue slips through your lips, greeting yours, rolling softly with your rhythm. Fuck… He draws back from you, looking at the two of you in the mirror. 

"First thing I thought about when you asked me to put this up, Y/N. Been thinkin’ about it ever since.”

“Yeah?" You smile as you look back into his blue jean eyes. "Why do you think I bought it?" His smile shifts to a smirk at the sound of your admittance. Rafe sets you down, making quick work of your clothing, peeling it off between kisses. You bite your lip as your fingers dance over the indentations of his muscles, working down to his waistband, his slutty gray sweats. You work the material over his thighs and down to his ankles. He kicks them off, just a pair of white cotton Calvin’s on his large frame. You take your time, revealing his thick cock inch by inch. His dick springs free, standing straight; a bead of cum gathered on his swollen tip.

His rough fingers ghost over your soft skin. Rafe takes hold of your breasts, pressing them together. His touch lightens, feather-soft circle over your nipples. "Rafe," you whine as you throw your head back. His mouth quickly greets your skin, sucking harshly, skimming and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue. His hands roam down your body as his lips return to yours. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. It’s happening. Rafe’s hand disappears between your thighs, making you moan. He runs his finger along your silk. 

"So fucking wet for me, y/n," he hums, turning you to face the mirror. You feel your whole body start to pulse, every nerve firing hot. Rafe’s fingers meet your bud, circling softly. You’d always look at his hands, wondering what they could do. 

"Feels so good," you whine, causing him to chuckle sinfully. Rafe pulls another moan out of your parted lips, his dark gaze matching yours over your shoulder. He adds a second finger, curling it inside of you, thrusting in and out. Rafe moves his thumb to your clit, adding a little more pressure. 

"I’ve always wanted you," He growls, lips grazing your ear.

"Yeah," you mewl.

"Do you think about me a lot, y/n?" He breathes.

"Yes," you press out the word through a moan.

"And you wanted to know what my hands could do. Didn’t you? I’ve seen the way you look at me," he taunts. "Are they doin’ it for you, Y/N?" He works you a little harder.

"Yes! Yes." You cry. Your thighs start to tremble. Rafe’s lips lock on your neck, licking you, marking you as his own. "I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, baby. I know," he whispers against your skin. ”Can you be a good girl and cum when I tell you?“

”Rafe, I… S-Shit.“ Your eyes flick open, resting on him as you fight back your pleasure, Rafe working against you, trying his very best to push you over the holding.

"Cum.”

“Fuck!" You lose yourself, fluttering around his fingers. He continues to please you, toiling harder and quicker than before. Your lips crash into his, cries of pleasure against his mouth. The two of you are breathing heavily. Rafe sucks off your bottom lip slowly.

"I can’t wait to have you, y/n," he groans huskily. ”Fuck. That was beautiful.“ Rafe wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "How was that, baby?” He drawls.

“Fantastic… Holy shit.”

His hands fall down your skin, landing on your hips, turning you before pulling you close. Rafe circles your ass, squeezing you, giving you a little spank. Your urges are too strong. You just can’t resist.

You throw yourself in his arms, lips locking with his. He moans into your kiss, tongue rolling with yours. Your hands grasp the front of his thighs, nails sinking in slightly.

You drag your fingers down his tight body. A smile spreads on Rafe’s lips as you wrap your hands around his thick dick.

“Shit, y/n," he chuckles raspily as you fall to your knees.

"Can I suck your cock, Rafey?”

“Mmm… Mhmm," he groans, a lusty chuckle leaving his lips. ”Hell fucking yes, Y/N.“ You feel your confidence building by the moment. You swirl your tongue on his velvety head, collecting his precum on your tongue. Rafe takes a sharp breath, followed by a loose, drawn-out moan.

"I’ve always wanted you in my mouth, Rafe," you pant. You trace the head of his shaft, lips close, breathing warmly against him. "Do you want my mouth?" You whisper onto his tip, his lashes flutter.

"Ugh, Shit. Yes, y/n," he groans. "I need your mouth on my cock." His voice is coarse and delicious, driving you wild. You flatten your tongue, licking him from base to tip. Rafe’s fingers rake through your hair, his hands gripping the back of your head.

His hips thrust into your mouth slowly, pushing you to see how far he can go. He draws out, your tongue swirls to the tip. "Fuck me, Y/N," Rafe hums. The grip on your hair tightens.

Each thrust is deeper than the next, a soft swirl to his tip. Your eyes start to water. Rafe readjusts his stance, his eyebrows furrowing. Bringing your hands up to his balls, you play with them as well. Rafe bites his lips, grunting with each thrust as he starts to buck his hips into your mouth. You’re choking on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks. You bring your fingers down to your warmth, pleasing yourself as well.

”Y/n,“ Rafe grunts, taking notice; his breathing increases. "You’re going to make me cum, baby," he sears. He adjusts his stance, thighs quaking. ”Mmm… Y/n. I can’t wait to have you. I’m going to fuckin’ ruin you, Y/N,“ he growls, eyes pinched shut. Hollowing your cheeks, you increase your suction, causing his lips to part. You feel his dick twitch on your tongue. Rafe thrusts into you roughly, his climax spilling deep into your throat. He throws his head back again, holding yours against him as you scratch your nails along his ass. "Y/n, f-fuck," he pants, breathing rapidly. ”Ugh… Holy shit.“ You come off him slowly, eyes set on him. "Best blowjob of my life..”

“Stop,” you giggle.

“Fuck, y/n. I mean it." He helps you to your feet, quickly pulling you in tightly. He presses a kiss against your forehead, breathing rapidly, still coming down from his climax. "Can’t wait to taste you, Y/N?”

“M'so wet…" You hum, fanning the flame. His eyes darken, trailing your curves before tossing you down on the bed. You feel your pussy throb, craving Rafe’s lips; his fingers; his cock. He wraps his arms around your thighs, drawing you toward his face.

You throw your arms above your head, arching your back as his tongue glides through your silk. "Shit," you mewl as you feel the warmth of his mouth, and the whisper of his breath against your sex. Rafe buries himself between your thighs, nose brushing your clit; tongue dipping into your entrance. Your heart starts to race again. You prop yourself up on your elbow, meeting his stare. Drawing your hands up your body, you take hold of your breasts. Rafe moans against your pussy, watching as you play with yourself.

He whispers your name softly against your clit; you toss your head back. Feeling the roughness of his hand against your stomach, working higher. Rafe palms your breast, rolling your nipple softly between his fingers. You feel your pleasure building. Your body moves, grinding your hips to get a little more friction. Rafe’s hand lowers, your anticipation builds. He licks a line up your slit. His fingers toy with your entrance. "Rafe, please," you wail, your thighs widening, pressure building in between. "Ugh… Fuck!" You cry. Rafe sinks two fingers deep, his soft lips sucking roughly. Your thighs start to quiver as he thrusts his digits in and out.

”Can you cum on my fingers?“ He breathes. "Can you soak my hand for me?”

“Yes… Yes.”

“Mmm… My cock’s gonna feel so good sliding in and out of this pretty pussy, Y/N.”

“Yes!" You punch out the word, back arching off the bed. You feel your release, just like he asked, making a mess of his hand as you grip the sheets. You can hear the sound of it. His fingers working sloppily, in and out.

"Baby…" You stutter, relaxing around his fingers, craving more. Rafe grips your hips in his strong hands, tugging you even closer to the edge. You tilt your head up, watching as he takes a grip on his cock, hard and throbbing. Your eyes shift as he guides himself closer. He seizes himself by the base, tapping his dick against your clit. Your thighs tremble with each touch, spurs of pleasure, your sensitivity at an all-time high.

"So fucking wet," he praises. Rafe’s hands shift, taking a harsh hold on the back of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. "Mmm… Hold these f'me," he groans. You relax your head to the side as Rafe runs his tips through your silk, his eyes meet yours in the mirror, a smile spreading on his lips.

His mouth parts, mirroring yours as his cock starts to stretch you out. You let out a soft whimper, your eyebrows knit as he gives you all of him. Every inch pushes you to your limit; your eyes roll back as he draws out, quickly thrusting back in.

Your hands grab his forearms, holding on tightly, drawing him closer, pulling him deeper. "Look at me, Y/N," he moans, his eyes shifting from the mirror, driving into yours. He leans into you, folding you in half, pinning your thighs against the bed as he kisses you deeply. Your tongues intertwine, moaning and blissful cries are exchanged between your lips.

You separate slightly, breathing rapidly, lips hovering close. His skin slaps against yours, your forehead, nestled against his. "You’re so fuckin’ beautiful," he pants.

”God, this feels so good.“

"So good, baby," he echoes. Rafe picks up speed, feeling your walls drawn in around him. His strong hands grip your hips, using them as leverage to drive deeper.

You throw your head back, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself about to fall apart. Your mouth draws open, a string of curses and praise flow freely. Rafe’s lips lock onto your nipple, sucking hard.

"Rafe. Fuck!” Your pleasure releases, your body pulses around his shaft. Your hands reach for him, pulling slightly, tugging him toward your lips. Rafe picks you up swiftly, taking a seat on the bed, his cock still deep inside.

“Are you okay?" He pants with a smile.

"So good… So fucking good.”

You start rolling and grinding your hips on top of him. Rafe starts to bounce on the mattress. His breathing increases; you can tell he’s close. Grabbing his shoulders, you press him down on the bed. Rafe’s hands squeeze your ass tightly, guiding you, setting a rapid tempo. “Fuck… Ugh," he whimpers. "I’m gonna cum.” He takes you by surprise, drawing out quickly, rolling you to your back.

He plunges back in, reaching for air as he grunts and moans incoherent words. “I’m cumming… Shit," he groans as he climaxes. Rafe continues to drive his release deeper. He presses his lips and body against yours, rocking slowly to a stop.

"Holy shit…." he pants, holding you close. Rafe nuzzles himself into your neck, breathing rapidly as he kisses you softly. You sigh blissfully, relaxing into the bed, giving him better access to your skin. His lips work over your neck, moving up to your jaw.

"So…" he whispers.

"So," you giggle, your heart racing rapidly against his.

"I like you, Y/N, if that’s not clear. And that… Fuck. That was so damn good," he groans blissfully.

"I like you too," you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently.

"And, just so we’re crystal clear, you pictured yourself fuckin’ me and not…" He points to his hair, narrowing his eyes on yours.

"Rafe? No, President Snow. Of course, I pictured myself fucking you and not Rafe Cameron.”

“Brat." He spanks your ass, making you yelp.

"Fuck, Rafe!” You whine as you look back, watching the print shift from white to red.

“Ah, shit. You don’t like it rough, Y/N?" He taunts through a snickering laugh. You lower your lips to him, brushing gently.

"You owe me now, Rafey… Round two. I like it rough.”

For fic drops please follow and turn on notifications for @curtainbangs-updates

my masterlist 🔮

[countryclubwh0re]

flashing rafe during an argument.

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀/𝐍: this is based off a comment i got on my recent blurb about rafe being a tits man! -> link!

you sat down on the bed, letting out a sigh as you slowly run at your temples. you and rafe had been arguing on and off all day, and at this point - you weren’t even sure what the hell you were arguing about. it’s like every little thing would set him off and a whole new argument would blow over.

“the fuck did i tell you about walking away from me?” rafe seethed as he followed after you into the bedroom. a quiet groan escaped your mouth, your fingers still rubbing at your temples. he stood there, a hand on his hip as he stared at you expectantly. okay, sassy.

when you don’t answer, rafe started rambling about what you had done to piss him off and your head was fucking throbbing. you just needed him to shut up for five minutes. so your fingers left your temples and hooked around the hem of your shirt, lifting your shirt just enough to let your tits out. you were desperate for him to stop.

“i mean jesus, y/n -“ rafe had started but immediately shut up the second he saw your breasts bounce as they released from your shirt. you tilt your head back, letting out a sigh of a relief at the final peace and quiet. still sitting on the edge of the bed, you hear rafe shuffle around and when you tilt your head back down, you see him on his knees between your legs.

“so fuckin’ perfect,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over your nipple as he stares as your tits in awe. your eyes flutter shut as your nipples harden under his touch. he gently sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the flesh. “so fucking perfect,” he whimpers around your nipple, repeating his earlier words. his other hand comes up, immediately squeezing and kneading your other breast.

rafe’s phone dings from an incoming text message. he lets out a low growl, hastily taking his phone out of his back pocket. but if you thought he was taking your nipple out of his mouth to do that, you’re sadly mistaken. his tongue flicks repeatedly over your hard nipple as he reads the text message from topper. he rolls his eyes and sends him a text back, tongue still swirling and flickering over your nipple.

“time to play with my girls. fuck off. 🍒” his text to topper read.

[countryclubwh0re]

challengers masterlist ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

here is a masterlist of most of what i've written about challengers! keep in mind that all works are fem reader insert as of now. :) i have also only included longer blurbs for now.

*MOST IF NOT ALL ARE NSFW; MINORS DNI

emoji anons: 🐞 🌷 🫒 🎀 ⭐💐 🐀 🫐 🦅

art fighting for you

facesitting w/ patrick x tashi

patrick & tashi corrupting you (continuation of the above)

fwb to lovers w/ patrick

best friend's brother!patrick pt. 1

best friend's brother!patrick pt. 2

patrick rimming you

patrick as your tennis coach

sneaking around w/ patrick

drunk sex w/ patrick

patrick taking your mind off your ex boyfriend

patrick showering you with praise

patrick and art eating you out

patrick x art x reader

patrick saying he can fuck you better

enemies to lovers with art

making out with tashi after a match

sub!art

patrick teaching you how to give head

matching with both art and patrick on a dating app

college!patrick

secret fwb w/ patrick

crawling after you (patrick x reader)-- friends to lovers, secret relationship

art x pregnant reader

degradation and makeup sex w/ patrick

finding perverted texts between patrick and art

perv!art & patrick x reader pt. 2

perv!art & patrick x reader pt. 3

perv!art & patrick x reader pt. 4

stepbro!patrick when you bring home a guy

stoned sex w/ art

art after he proposes

college!patrick taking your virginity

best friend patrick sabotaging your dates

argument w/ stepbro!patrick

riding patrick's thigh (stepbro!patrick)

college!patrick taking your virginity

patrick ripping your panties off

forbidden love w/ patrick pt. 1

forbidden love w/ patrick pt. 2

forbidden love w/ patrick pt. 3

forbidden love w/ patrick pt. 4

forbidden love w/ patrick pt. 5

ex!patrick fingering you behind the bleachers

college!patrick teaching you how to make out

college!patrick teaching you how to give head on art

college!patrick teaching you how to give head on art cont.

ex!patrick begging for you back

almost getting caught w/ stepbro!patrick

stepbro!patrick spanking you

joining the mile high club w/ stepbro!patrick

actor!patrick x actor!reader

art begging to fuck you

meeting dilf!patrick

jealous dilf!patrick

patrick joining your church and corrupting you pt. 1

^ pt. 2

art fucking you with nothing but his backwards hat on

escort!reader x divorced!art

escort!reader x divorced!art pt. 2

shy!art x shy!reader pt. 1

shy!art x shy!reader pt. 2

pornstar!artrick x virgin!reader pt. 1

pornstar!artrick x virgin!reader pt. 2

pornstar!artrick x virgin!reader pt. 3

ceo!patrick x reader

dilf!patrick spanking your pussy

dilf!art fucking you pronebone

running into divorced!art at a bar (x escort!reader)

college!artrick getting high w/ you (cw: slight noncon, somno)

patrick fucking you when you're doing homework

being academic rivals with patrick

giving patrick your purity ring after he takes your virginity

[countryclubwh0re]

art fucking me while wearing nothing but his backwards cap would have me like 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i would do anything for that slutty blonde man and his slutty backwards cap.

frat boy!art …. oh god…. he’s sweet art and he’s a gentleman but the fraternity has given him an ego. when he started college he was shy, timid, didn’t know how to talk to girls. and then he rushed to get more friends and girls started throwing themselves at him faster than he could keep up. he went from a shaky make out session in august to a body count of seven by halloween and that didn’t count the girls he wasn’t interested in.

and you like art; he’s smarter than he lets on even though he tells people he isn’t, that he’s only at stanford because of athletics. but you don’t want to fuck him because you know his type. the guy who realizes now that he’s hot and has a good body and he doesn’t wanna be held down by a whiny girl. it just screamed problematic to you. so you let him down politely.

but there’s something about how fucking charming he is. how he takes the rejection with grace. still invites you to the parties his fraternity is throwing, tells you and your friends to find him if there’s any trouble.

art sees it before you do. a creep from another frat who somehow snuck in the door and was about to grope your ass before art socked him in the face.

you hated to be so easy but watching him punch a guy with zero hesitation, shaking his hand and sucking his blood from the cut on his knuckles—made your previous rejection nullify.

because now you’re in his room asking him if his hand is okay but you’re pushed against his door and his mouth is opening so you can push your tongue inside. you do. his hands roam down your back and he carries you to his bed and then his shirt is off, his shorts, his tiny briefs.

his body is fucking perfect and you don’t want to ogle but jesus christ.

your hand quickly wraps around his cock and it’s so hard already. his moans and mewls tumble into your mouth as you milk him with both hands. head lolling back so you can kiss his throat, his bobbing adam’s apple.

but he wants to be in control. he wants your pussy wrapped around his cock—he’s been thinking about it since he met you two months ago.

you realize his hat is still on; it’s backwards and his curls poke out from the bottom, drops of sweat plopping onto your stomach as he pushes into you in missionary and god his cock is fucking perfect. why did you ever say no?

he pushes your knees back to get so deep that you’re arching your back and begging for more than he can even dream of giving you.

“it’s all in baby, you want me to fuck you hard?” he asks, thrusting in sharp, precise motions, a staccato. “or do you want me to fuck you deep?” he slows down, and that’s what makes you want to cum right then and there, the feeling of every inch of him. in and out so fucking slow and deliberate.

but then he wants you to ride him and you do, clawing at his pretty pale chest, marking him up. reveling in how his big hands feel on your tits, your ass, the small of your back.

it’s uncomfortable for him to lay down with his hat still on so he puts it on you instead. you’re not sure why it turns you on. you ride him hard and fast.

“fuck—you’re so big—“ you hiss, throwing your head back.

art pulls you into him so your stomach is flush against his, your tits pressed against him. he palms your ass and fucks into you and you’re squeezing him harder and harder. you’re about to cum, and so is he.

“yeah? want me to fill this little fucking pussy up?”

you’ve never heard art be so vulgar.

[countryclubwh0re]

Do you write for sub!art? 🫣

oh yes

that boy would be so horny and obsessed with you... if you both had busy days he would text you and call you all day

can i please come over later??

let's watch a movie

and then 4 texts throughout the day about how he's so excited to see you.

you did end up watching a movie, combing your fingers through his hair. but it turned you on how he moaned and whimpered when you did that, especially when you rubbed his sore shoulders. kissing his neck and watching his hips buck up into nothing, as if he had no control around you, no control of his desires.

he kissed you hungrily, but you knew you were still in control, grinding your pussy against his erection, barely clad underneath thin panties.

he looked up at you, lips parted. "please."

you laughed, your lips soft against his ear. "please what?"

"help me--i'm hard." he always begged, but could never quite find all the words to tell you want you wanted. you got off of him and sat to his left, tilting his head towards yours. he gave you wet, desperate kisses as your fingers fumbled with his sweatpants.

his cock was hard already; it had been all day. it strained against his boxer briefs and Art groaned when you released him. beads of precum soaked his red tip.

"wow," you cooed. his eyes were glued onto your hand, slowly stroking up. up and down and up and down again. "spit," you told him.

he nodded, letting a wet glob of spit fall into your palm. you stroked him harder, faster. his mouth fell open, hips bucking up to meet your movements.

"look at me." you tilted his face so his eyes met yours. tears pricked the corners; he was so hard. "good boy." you pushed your thumb into his mouth as his head fell back.

"holy fuck--" Art fucked your hand now. he was drooling onto himself. "let me cum, let me cum."

it was impossible to say no to him. ropes of cum spurt onto his stomach, as high up as his collarbones, sticky on your hand. he grabbed your wrist and sucked your fingers into your mouth.

[countryclubwh0re]

more inexperienced!art please please pleaseee i beg😔😔

i'm thinking after you make out with art and he cums in his pants, you suggest to first start with a handjob. you don't trust him inside you; you're sure he'll cum immediately.

you really talk him through it. on his bed, you touch him softly. your hands roam through his golden curls as you pull him closer to you. you brush your hand down the side of his face and he leans into your touch. just watching you, waiting for you. he won't make any moves on his own; he's far too scared to. doesn't want to mess anything up.

"do you want to kiss me?" you ask, softly.

art nods quickly; you don't even finish the inflection of the question before he's leaning closer and you're running your thumb over his bottom lip just to feel how soft he is. you pull the plump flesh down and lean in to kiss him.

he moves slower this time. he realizes that his issue last time was how excited he was getting in such a small amount of time. riling himself up and thinking about what was going to happen, what could happen.

so he figures he'll stay firmly planted in the present moment. he tries his best, curling his fists into the sheets as you cup his jaw and deepen the kiss, prying his mouth open with your tongue so you can taste him.

he moans prettily. you lift his arms and place his hands on your body, craving him.

they only ghost over the small of your back; you can feel the tiniest brush of his pinky against your skin but you pull them onto you completely.

"you can touch me. i want you to." you punctuate your sentence with another kiss. he tastes so fucking good, so innocent.

his grasp on your body is firmer now. he creeps his hands up only a little, feeling under your shirt. his breath hitches as he feels your breasts. he massages them well, as if he has been practicing. his thumbs brush across your nipples and your head falls back. art hold the back of your head and pushes you against his mouth again.

"do you like touching me?"

art flutters his eyes open to look at you. "yes. i love it."

"do you want me to touch you now?"

"yes, please do."

he sits in front of you--patient, waiting. you untie his sweatpants and he lifts his body to help you take them off. he's wearing his boxers still and you can tell he's nervous to take them off. to be vulnerable while you're still clothed.

"don't be nervous. it's just me." you admire the tent in his boxers, wondering how his cock will look. how it will feel.

art nods and pulls them down. his cock slaps against his stomach, red. you can see how pent up he is in the sheer color of him, how the precum glistens at his tip.

"so pretty." you say.

his face and neck are stained in a deep red blush.

"th-thank you." he replies.

"i think we should get you nice and wet, huh?"

art agrees. you move forward and push your fingers between his lips. he's confused at first, but he licks and sucks on them expertly, coating them in the drool that was already pooling in his mouth. he whimpers as you push them deeper, hitting the back of his throat. his eyes flutter and you say good boy. his cock twitches; you smirk.

your fingers are soaked. you wrap your hand around his cock and he sharply inhales. he's so sensitive; it feels like all the blood is in his cock and he just needs to cum.

noting how much he liked your affectionate name for him, you say it again.

"now i'm going to start stroking you. are you gonna be a good boy and last longer?"

he twitches in your hand.

"yeah--i'll do my best."

"good." so you start to move. you're slow and deliberate. your thumb passes over his cockhead and his hips jerk. he's already close. he was before you even started touching him. he feels his balls contracting and then as your hand moves down again, you cup them. fondle them.

"fuck--fuck."

he grabs you by the shirt and leans in to kiss you. he needs to muffle his moans. his roommates are home and god he just wants to fuck your fist and say your name over and over and over.

instead, he mewls into your mouth, into his kisses to you. swipes his tongue inside your mouth as you stroke him faster, grip him tighter.

you give a look. one that says, it's gonna be harder to keep it in now.

but you want him to let go. you want him to moan loudly and unabashedly. you want him to fuck your fist and cum and apologize like he just broke some kind of law. you want to make it hard for him to stay composed.

you jerk him off faster, focusing on the top of his cock, his most sensitive areas. the parts that make him curse and bite his lip, his adams apple bobbing as he struggles to keep his head upright.

"i'm--" he fists your shirt. his lips brush against yours.

"you're what?"

"i'm close--i think i'm close."

"hmm--do you think it's been long enough?" you're just torturing him now. you know he'll listen to anything you say, believe anything you tell him at face value.

"i dunno-- what do you think?" he can barely get a word out. his cock is twitching. a broken sigh tumbles from his mouth.

"one more minute. can you do that?"

he really doesn't think so. doesn't even think he can hold it for another second.

"y-yes."

"good boy." you whisper it against his lips. it tickles. and then you feel the warm rush of his cum coating your fingers, spilling onto his abs. you're quick to cover his mouth. god, he's loud.

[countryclubwh0re]

thinking…. thinking about being on art’s lap but refusing to let him fuck up into you. he’s so hard and leaking and has been for so long but you can’t give in so easily. he’s mindlessly babbling stupid shit because he genuinely has nothing in his head but the feel of your hot cunt teasingly sliding over his cock keeps him coherent enough for a fuck me please baby, just sit on it please. and then youre laughing at him and pressing his tip to your clit and rubbing it around, slapping it on your pussy a little bit and he begs you to stop. you play with his tip and pull it back to open his little slit up and it has him mewling, a breathless oh my fucking god please leaving his mouth. you’re minutes away from finally sinking down on him and offer him relief but then one particular jerk has your swollen clit catching in his slit and he glances down at the sight and just explodes… making a mess all over you with his dick jumping like it has a mind of its own and him nearly passing out after :((

[countryclubwh0re]

thinking about mean tennis!coach art donaldson. u wanna throw a tantrum about whiffing your match? you wanna blame his coaching and not your lazy fucking playing? you’ll stop whining when he yanks your skirt up your tight little ass. bends u over the net like the good for nothing slut you are. forget tennis. could be a hooker with that pretty fucking ass. look at you, thighs quaking. cunt dripdrip dripping onto the tennis court. you’re just begging to be fucked by the handle. but only good girls get that, no? only winners. he’s gonna spank your ass so red and raw with the back of his racket you’ll have the crosshatching burned onto your skin. oh, don’t cry. it’ll look pretty. he hasn’t even started yet! now, ass up, sweetcheeks. unlike you, he doesn’t miss.

[countryclubwh0re]

thinking about. being sat in patrick’s lap while he keeps giving u drinks… making u drink… all so he can feel u squirm when ur bladder gets too full and he holds u with his big strong arms…. until it becomes too much and u piss ur little pink panties on his lap:) art watching too bc i said so:)

PEE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ him making you do it in front of art too :((( just to humiliate you even more - need it to be stanford era art, his little backwards cap on - biting his lip as he watches the fabric of your panties darken as you piss all over patricks lap - he hisses, "shit." and palms his stiff dick. he shouldn't find that hit but he does -

gets even harder when patrick shoves down his jeans and pulls your panties to the side and art can see the fat juicy cock of his best friend rubbing against your slick pussy - he makes you bounce on it, and you're just so fucking desperate for it at this point - embarrassment gone as you slide down that thick cock you're in love with. "fuck, I love your pussy -" your boyfriend grunts - you're facing art so he's watching your ass bounce up and down on his lap - "you all sensitive now that you pissed yourself? know you fuckin' love that shit - can feel you clenchin' on me."

honestly it's like art isn't even there - but you know it turns him on, having him watch. he loves being watched - loved showing off. and you love being shown off - making eye contact with art as you ride patrick rough and dirty -

hes palming himself, the heel of his hand rubbing back and forth over his obvious bulge. his cheeks are flushed and you wanna see it - you wanna see it -

you squeeze your boyfriend with your pussy - hot and pulsing. "tell him - tell him to pull it out - "

patrick groans behind you. you feel his chest come up to your back. even through his shirt you can feel the heat of his skin. you wish you were all naked so you could feel his bare chest, his hair against you. "my girl wants to see your dick, art. give her a fucking show like we're givin' you. be a good boy -"

despite arts grumbled 'fuck you' he's fumbling with his belt, the hiss of his zipper dragging down and reaching inside to fish his cock out. you whine at the sight of it, flushed and hard. pink at the head - you hear the rumble of patricks groan at your back. his big arm coming around your waist to tug you back against him, you think, to see art better too - he drags you up and down his dick faster -

"you like lookin?" he speaks in your ear. "you're such a dirty girl - this wet little pussy just likes everything, huh?" the wet in question is evident by the slick slap of his balls against your pussy.

you could tell him he's just as dirty. hard and fucking thick inside you fucking you in front of his friend so vigorously after you just pissed all over him, but you don't. you love being degraded too much.

so you just nod and rock back and forth against him. your puffy clit is throbbing, it has its own beating heart, his balls are drawn up and you can feel them against your clit everytime you wiggle down -

"say it." his hand comes down on your ass and you yelp. "tell art you like how his dick looks, you little slut."

your thighs burn with the exertion of how fast you're bouncing up and down, but you can't stop. he's hitting that spot inside you - you're so fucking wet, your gushy cunt sucking on patricks cock - and you can't take your eyes off art from across the room. at his pretty pink dick and how good it looks in his hand as he pumps it up and down at the sight of you -

"I like it." you whine, tits bouncing. "I like your cock art - look so big - so fucking pretty, fuck -"

the blonde moans. his cheeks flushing deeper and you wish he was closer - wish you could bend down and take the tip of his dick into your mouth. you have a feeling patrick would be more than okay with that, would encourage it even. you just know he'd taste good on your tongue - with his intense food regimen and his health kick you'd just know he'd leak across your tongue and taste so sweet and you want it stuffed down your throat, want them both using you for their pleasure - want patricks grunts at your back and arts moans at your front, between both of them just a warm hole -

"m'gonna cum" you cry. "patrick I'm so close -"

"yeah, baby. cum on this dick - make another fuckin' mess -"

you squirt - something you'd never done before patrick - it's basically just another stream of piss at this point, gushing out of your pulsing pussy so intensely it makes patrick slip out - your eyes roll back into your fucking skull -

both the boys curse - patrick groans - "fuuuuucking fuck - that shits hot, baby - "

and art from across the room - "oh my god - " the sound of his hand on his cock slick as he fists himself harder and more aggressively. his other hand delving inside his jeans to paw at his throbbing balls. he doesn't think he's ever been this turned on by anything in his life - watching your swollen cunt get pounded, watching you fucking squirt - he's leaking all over his knuckles - fucking just his head now - so close to blowing his load and wildly he thinks this should be going inside you -

"- c'mere " patrick pulls you back down on his cock - pushing right back inside you. slides in so fucking easy, "give me that sloppy fucking hole - shits gonna make me cum so fucking hard -"

it's kind of poetic, you'll think later. how they both come at the same time. two boys who have shared everything - shooting ropes of cum at the same time over the same girl. patricks load deep inside you - arts painting his fist -

it feels right.

[countryclubwh0re]

The idea of Art kissing up your whole body, not missing a single inch, somehow already needy as you slowly wake up in the morning 🤭🤭🤭

This idea has consumed every fiber of my being for the past few days 💁🏾‍♀️

every available morning, when art doesn't have to wake up early for training or physical therapy stretches or to get prepped for an interview, he's all over you.

he's a light sleeper of course, so he generally wakes up before you do anyways. he'll turn his head on his pillow and smile as he sees your eyes still closed peacefully. not only is he a light sleeper, but he always gets horny as soon as he wakes up. it's genuinely like clockwork.

he will gently and quietly slide down the covers from your body and move to place one of his knees on either side of your hips so that he can lean down and start to kiss you. he'll lathe his tongue over the side of your neck that's exposed before suckling softly as he starts to grow in his underwear. he'll kiss tenderly at your collarbones, and then he'll maneuver down and back so that he can slide his hands up under your shirt and start to nip and kiss your stomach. he doesn't miss a single limb of yours. every inch of your soft flesh is met with his needy mouth. and god, you smell like warmth and love and everything he's been missing since he's been asleep. he'll kiss you until you start to stir, and then he'll crawl back up to passionately press his lips to yours. he might even slip his tongue in.

"lean back, baby," he'd whisper shakily, his tone dripping with desperate arousal which he'd shove aside in favor of pleasing you first, "let me take care of you.."

[countryclubwh0re]

♡ Taboo; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/femme identifying reader, mommy kink, taboo perceptions of the kink, established relationship, mentions of masturbation (m), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dacryphilia (crying; tears), degradation, begging, praise, oral at the end (reader receiving), general filth

wc: 1.9 k

prev. art donaldson fics: sub!art donalson, dom!art donaldson <3

Art wasn't really sure when or how it started.

'I have a great relationship with my mother,' he had thought -- albeit confusedly and slightly disturbed -- to himself one time after he had just freshly jerked off to the idea of calling you by the unusual honorific, 'so why is this hot..?'

He had stewed on the fantasy for months after it had first popped into his brain. He'd fist his cock to it when you weren't around to ease the pain between his legs, biting his pulled-up tee shirt between his teeth as he moaned out a muffled cry of the perverted nickname with his eyes squeezed shut and his head tipped back. Whenever he came down from his high with a sticky hand and stomach, the taste of the taboo obscenity still on his tongue, he would always feel a bit odd. While the whole mommy/daddy kink thing was relatively common nowadays, he had still felt ashamed. He never dreamed of telling you. He wouldn't dare.

And then it happened.

It was a complete accident; a slip of the tongue, really.

You two had been fooling around on the couch, as per usual, shedding pieces of clothing as you went, and after a few gropes and caresses it had swiftly dissolved into your guys' usual depraved quickie.

He was rutting into your wet cunt, rolling his hips with an air of desperation that he always had when he was balls-deep inside of you.

It was already established between the two of you that you were the one in charge, not him. It was something he accepted and craved, and you were happy to indulge him. You enjoyed bossing him around, calling him degrading names (slut; whore; bitch), and making him beg for release.

As such, this was exactly the kind of thing that was happening during this instance of sex. He was moaning into your neck with his brows pinched up, whimpering out pleas for permission to 'let go' while you addressed him with filthy words. All of it wasn't surprising.

What was surprising, however, were the broken cries that poured from your boyfriend's mouth the second you denied him the ability to finish.

"Please, please-- Ahh, please!" he squirmed, "mommy!"

And everything stopped for a moment. Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting, a warm fuzziness flooding every cell of your being. Art felt it too, but for him it was tainted with a hearty helping of painful humiliation. He felt himself flush a bright red from the base of his collarbones to the tips of his ears.

'Oh no,' he had thought, his cock stilling inside of you as he froze. His breathing was shallow and quiet in the crook of your neck. He didn't want to speak.

"What did you just say?" you panted softly, your hand in the back of his shaggy, shiny strawberry-blonde curls.

Silence.

One beat.

Then another.

"Art," you spoke up again, your voice a bit louder now as you tried to verbally shake him out of his stupor of embarassment.

He shook his head, his nose brushing your pulse point.

"Sorry," he murmured quietly, assuming you already knew exactly what he had just moaned out. It had been kind of hard to miss.

You ran your fingers through his hair, sliding your hand down over his upper back to scratch it softly. Your own back arched slightly underneath him as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, even though the interruption (and his sudden self-consciousness) had caused him to soften quite a bit.

"It's okay," you whispered to him, "I didn't know you were into that."

"I'm not."

"..."

"..."

"It's genuinely okay if you are.. it's not that obscure."

"I'm really not.. I don't know why I said that, sorry," he whispered back, still breathing delicately against your skin and still refusing to make eye contact.

"Stop apologizing."

"..Okay.. I just feel weird now."

You pause, your fingertips tracing circles over his shoulder blades.

"I'm kinda into it," you shrug gently, speaking tenderly and coolly to him.

A short, shaky breath escaped his lips right against your ear.

"... you are?"

"I think it's kinda sexy," you whisper now, "it sounded nice coming from your mouth.. it suits you."

You felt him start to harden against the inside of your gummy walls. A small smirk graced your lips as you bit the shell of his ear.

"You wanna fuck mommy some more?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ.." he moaned out softly and breathily, his hips pressed flush to your body for only a moment more before they started to shallowly thrust his length in and out.

You grasp onto his back, wrapping your legs around him.

"That's it, baby... fuck me," you encourage him in a way that sounds like a command. He loves when you do that.

His dick jumps and throbs as he moves.

"--fucking mommy like such a needy whore," you moan as you rock back against his bucking pelvis.

"Oh.. Ohh.. OH..!" Art shudders, his lips and teeth grazing your upper shoulder.

You smile, moving your hands from his back to dig your nails into his tense, trembling biceps.

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps urgently, his hips already stuttering as he lets out a frantic whine.

"Ask."

Even if his head and his cock were lost in his biggest fantasy-come-to-life scenario, Art wasn't about to disobey.

"Please," he murmurs, resisting the urge to bite down on your neck to distract himself from the orgasm that was bubbling up in his groin quicker than he'd ever experienced, "Please let me cum.."

"I want you to say it again."

A whimper from him meets your demand as soon as it leaves your lips.

"I... Please, let me cum.."

"No."

"What?"

You push your palms up against his arms to urge him to move his head up and out of your neck so that he can look down into your eyes. He complies, and his watery blues gaze helplessly into yours as his erection pumps in and out of you. You can tell that he can't hold on much longer.

"Say it," you whisper up at him.

He knows exactly what you're asking from him now.

Art swallows thickly before he speaks up once more.

"Please let me cum, mommy," he pouts, his eyes pricking with tears.

Crying during sex was also an unsurprising occurrence when you were intimate with Art. He gets overstimulated quite fast, and is quick to become emotionally overwhelmed when he feels pleasurably out-of-body, but you knew his limits by now. You wouldn't give him more than he could handle.

You smile, reaching up to cup his face in both of your hands. The heat from his cheeks was practically radiating off of them.

"You really wanna cum?" you smirk teasingly. His hips jolt.

"Yes-ss-!" he sobs, his bottom lip wobbling as fat tears start to wet his bottom lashes and spill down his cheeks.

"Go ahead and say it then," you whisper, deliberately bearing your hips down to squeeze around his cock as he fucks you sloppily into the couch cushions.

He squeezes his eyes shut above you, hanging his head, and you watch as his arms that are holding himself up over your form start to tremble like a wet kitten in a rainstorm. He collapses down onto one of his elbows with a sharp hiss through gritted teeth, still shaking like a madman. He's just barely keeping his body up enough to prevent himself from smushing you completely. His blood is boiling, his head is spinning, and he is so, so close.

"I wanna cum for you, mommy," he cries out pathetically, practically vibrating all over with the effort of staving off his orgasm in favor of waiting for your approval.

Your touch returns to his upper back and you nod against his warm body.

"Okay, baby.. I've got you.. give me just a little more.." you coo gently.

You hear him sniffle weakly against your shoulder, his hips moving at a rapid, uneven pace. He's desperately clutching the leather underneath the two of you, squeezing it under his one free palm, as he comes so close to just letting everything go with a few final pushes of his length into your warm, wet core.

And then you speak once more.

"Alright.. go ahead; you have permission."

In that instant, every bit of restraint within Art collapses. He lets out a guttural groan before it quickly dissolves into a mess of stuttered whimpers and whines; he can feel you clenching around him, and a familiar but strong ache of pleasure quickly licking up and over his twitching cock.

"I'm cumming, mommy-!" he moans out loudly, "oh please, oh g-god, ohh fu-uck!"

He can barely slur out the warning before his entire world crumbles underneath him, and wave after wave of red-hot ecstasy floods his entire nervous system. His vision goes black for a second, he's sure of it.

Your eyes flutter as you tip your head back, the sensation of his thick sticky load filling your pussy as he has the most intense climax of his life. His abdomen is convulsing against yours in an uneven pattern of movement, his eyes rolling back in his head as he practically weeps into the warmth and comfort of your shoulder.

"Good boy, Art," you whisper to him after his orgasm begins to slow down and all you're left with is a shaken, flushed, whining mess of a boyfriend above you, "i'm right here.. shh, take it easy.."

He breathes and pants heavily, like he just ran a marathon, but he doesn't even care. His mind and body haven't even touched back down on Earth yet. He'll need a few minutes. Once again, unsurprising. He usually needed to be lovingly coaxed down from his high by you -- especially if it was a powerful one.

"Ididgood..?" he slurs out weakly, his hands moving from the couch to your waist as two stray tears drip down onto your skin from the tip of his nose. You can still hear his heart pounding in his chest; poor thing.

"Yeah, mhmm.. so good," you soothingly assure him, knowing he'd need extra aftercare this time around. After all, he'd been so vulnerable with you-- more than usual.

He smiles wearily and nods, burying his face into you as he goes fully limp on top of you. Your gentle hands rub his back.

"Thank you. I love you," he breathes out shallowly.

"You're welcome," you whisper, "I love you too.."

You hadn't cum, but it was fine. Ten minutes from now, he'd have his mouth on your cunt, happily pulling climax after climax from your pretty pussy like it was nothing. You'd let him, of course; fisting his hair softly between your fingers as he makes you cum for the third time, and then the fourth, and then the fifth. With each spill of your juices over his tongue, he'd get a taste of his own load dripping out from the deepest parts of you. He'd relish in the taste of it; the way that you and him mixed perfectly.

And then you'd hear it again. It would tumble out through his parted lips, spoken between the lewd licking and squelching of his tongue over your folds and your clit, but you'd be sure that you knew what you heard. With his brows all pinched up, and his light blue eyes gazing up at you, and his tennis-calloused hands gripping at your thighs, he'd murmur one specific word into your pulsing heat that would send you quickly into another orgasm. It all felt so fucking good, and it all felt so fucking right -- the way that the kinky nickname slid so effortlessly off of his sticky lips reminded you of something you could hear in a porno. And this time, he didn't even try to take it back.

notes; whew!! finally got this edited + posted :,) this idea wouldn't leave my head ever since i watched the scene in which tashi tells art "i'm not your mommy" and then he looks at her with the most pathetic expression ever. mhm.

++ this is for anyone who watched tashi duncan say "what am i? jesus?", to which art responded with "yeah", and immediately wanted to reduce him down to a whimpering little puddle ! hes so cute.

divider credit @benkeibear

tags; @idontevenknow1359 @odyseesnape @theoldsports @mitskilover23

[countryclubwh0re]

♡ Nice Guys Finish Last; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: soft dom!art donaldson, sub!reader, afab/fem reader, porn w/ a little plot, penetrative sex, unsafe sex/pullout method, slight edging (reader!receiving), equal desperation, praise, general filth, art is a softie until he's not

wc: 4.2 k

*does not include challengers spoilers!*

prev. art donaldson fic : <3 here <3

It was currently 11 PM in the state of New York, and Art Donaldson was in your hotel room.

-

Earlier today, you had competed in a long singles tennis tournament for a cash prize, and had beat every other girl in the bracket. You walked away from it with five-hundred more dollars in your pocket than you had walked in with, and a smug grin on your glossy lips.

Art Donaldson had competed in a similar tournament at the same venue, except it involved doubles teams playing against one another. He had played with his typical partner, Patrick Zweig, and they, too, had beat everyone in their bracket.

Tomorrow, they would be playing against one another to determine the ultimate winner.

You had watched them play, and they had watched you play too.

After the venue had shut down for the night, you had begun to wander back to your hotel a few blocks away and coincidentally bumped into the two boys heading back to the same building.

You three talked--or rather, they had buttered you up with compliments as you all went up the elevator, and suddenly you were in their hotel room drinking cheap beer from cold metal cans.

They both flirted relentlessly with you for about an hour or two, before Patrick had called it a night (and had given up on trying to woo you) and told you and Art that he was going to sleep.

Art had given you a look and nodded towards their room's door with a small smile, silently suggesting something. Thirty seconds later the both of you were standing alone in the hotel hallway. He chatted you up and praised your tennis-playing for about ten more minutes, his blue eyes staring into yours with an earnest desire to hold your attention. You had laughed and flushed with a nervous heat while he sang your praises, and then a bout of silence came over the two of you. He looked down to his shoes, letting out a soft chuckle, and then back up to your eyes.. and then down to your lips. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above made the silence seem more tense than it already was.

After tossing the reality of this interaction around in your head, you had realized that his kind, sensitive, charming persona was effectively rendering you weak in the knees..

"You're really pretty, by the way.. i don't know if i've said that yet, but you are," he had spoken in the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the wall as a lock of his strawberry-blonde curls hung in the center of his forehead.

And that was it.

Five minutes later he was in your hotel room.

-

The both of you kicked your shoes off in the doorway, and then moved to sit on the edge of your hotel room bed. Your chest and hands felt strangely hot as the young, talented tennis player sat there next to you. After a few moments of shared bashful glances, you started to notice things about him that you hadn't before.

Sometimes when he smiled, only one corner of his lips would lift up. When that happened, it looked more like he was smirking than he was smiling, which made him seem either disingenuous or disinterested -- even though it seemed that neither of those things were true.

He smelled like generic aftershave, faint sweat, and warm skin, which was a pleasant contrast to the smell of the hotel room. While the hotel was clean, it was also old, which made the permeating scent of the carpet akin to something like the stale basement of a childhood home.

He fidgeted subtly with his hands, staring into your eyes before averting them to look around at your luggage and tennis bag on the floor.

"So.. you said you're going to Stanford this fall, right?" you say, leaning back on your palms.

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, turning his head to look back to you again with a sheepish smile, “and you’re going to Harvard?”

“Mhm,” you hum, smiling back at him, “is Patrick going with you?”

He laughs a little, his brows furrowing, “Patrick? Hell no.”

You shake your head, “why not?”

“Patrick isn’t the college type. He wants to go pro immediately.”

“Ohh.. right, i forgot he mentioned that.”

“Yeah,” Art shrugs, still giving you a soft look as he shifts a little in his spot on the end of the mattress.

“I think you’re better off at Stanford without him,” you tease slightly, a playful smirk on your face.

He smiles wider, “Why?”

“I think he’d just get you into trouble,” you chuckle.

Art laughs again, a tiny bit harder than he did before, and you’re not sure if it’s because he genuinely likes your playfulness or if it’s because he’s a little nervous.

"You don't think I can cause trouble?" he asks with a small smile.

You shake your head after letting a soft giggle bubble up and out of your chest in response.

"Nah, not really."

"Why's that?"

"You're just so.. so nice."

He scoffs lightly and gently rolls his eyes, reaching up to tuck some of his messy hair behind one of his ears. He chews a little on the inside of his cheek.

"What?" you laugh.

"Everyone me and Patrick meet thinks he's this cool 'bad-boy' and I'm just this.. meek little 'nice guy'," he chuckles, matching your body language now by also leaning back on his palms.

Your smile falters slightly when he does this, but only because now the sleeve of his gray tee shirt was brushing against your bare shoulder, and your faces were a short distance apart. If you tried, you could probably just lean in and kiss him..

"It's not a bad thing to be a nice guy," you smirk, continuing your guys' little back-and-forth.

"Yeah, but there's, like, connotations behind that idea of a guy."

"What 'connotations'?"

He lets out a stiff chuckle, averting his eyes down to his legs before he returns your eye contact once again as he speaks, "I don't know.. that I'm 'shy', or that i 'cant be assertive'.."

You smile, feeling another wave of warmth creep over your stomach just from the way he was looking at you. His eyes were soft but steadily looking into yours, and each second felt like three years.

"So you're saying that those assumptions aren't true?" you tease gently, subtly moving to lean your shoulder against his. He noticed this immediately.

"God!" he laughs, slightly offended but still playing along, "do they seem true?"

"No," you say a bit softer with a smile, your eyes unintentionally drifting down to his pink lips. He noticed this too.

"Okay, good," he leans in a little more, your lips only a handful of inches apart now ".. 'cause they're definitely not."

"Really?" you chuckle, still teasing him.

He nods, "Really, really."

You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your ribcage, and then you started to wonder if he could hear it. Your lips part, little breaths being let out as you lean in an extra two inches. He smirks, and then you feel him move his right hand off of the bed and over your thigh. Its gentle and almost hesitant; giving you the opportunity to say 'no' if you wanted to.. but you didn't. you definitely didn't want to say no.

Your breathing hitches a little and your thighs shift slightly to capture his fingers between your limbs, and he looks steadily into your eyes as his digits squeeze your flesh softly.

"I'm not that shy," he murmurs lowly.

And then his lips are on yours, hot and hungry and eager to please. Your brows furrow as you kiss him back with equal ferocity, and his other hand moves to gently cup your cheek.

His tongue lathes over your bottom lip, and you open your mouth wider so that he can slide it in and taste you better. He groans softly against your smooth, parted lips, his hand between your thighs sliding up to press his palm against your clothed heat. A shaky, barely audible moan escapes your lips as this happens, and he swallows it down as he kisses you harder.

Art's hands then move to slide under your athletic tank top, and he pulls away with lidded eyes to mumble lowly and warmly against your jaw, "can I take this off?"

You nod feverishly, breathing heavily, as you lift your arms above your head while he pulls your shirt up and over. He tosses it aside once it's off like it's trash to him, and then he's diving back in to kiss and suck and nip at your neck. You're sure that he'll leave marks, but you can't find the strength or willpower to deny how hot it would be to look in the mirror later and see all of the little red blotches that his pretty mouth left behind. A few soft "ahh"s and "oh"s slip from your parted lips as his tongue flicks over your pulse point like its a clit, and you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. Without further warning, both of his hands slide up to grope your breasts over your sports bra, and your back arches instantly.

"I want to see more of you," Art whispers against your neck, one of his hands moving back to gently grope your thigh right under the hem of your shorts, while his other starts to hook one of his fingers under the elastic band of your bra.

"Yeah, yes," you mumble and nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel his silky tongue lap gently over the sensitive spot on your lower neck again.

He pulls back, his lips shiny with his own saliva, and he lets out a small huff of air as he stands up from the bed and shifts to stand in front of where you're trembling on the edge of it.

Your eyes meet his, and you now fully realize that his whole "nice guy" thing was a facade.. maybe it was just a protective cloak he put on until he got comfortable..

Regardless, he looked different now as he stood in front of you, breathing heavily as his gaze drank in the sight of your body. He takes a step closer, his knees touching the end of the bed as his legs stood steadily between yours. He looks down, shifting his left knee to push your legs farther apart, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a whine.

Not a moment later, he's reaching down to pull your tight sports bra over your head. It drops from his grasp onto the floor, his breathing hitches as he looks down at your exposed chest, and then his hands are moving to roughly knead and squeeze at your soft flesh underneath his palms. You shudder and bite your lip. He thumbs your nipples.

His eyes move back up to return your gaze, and he leans down and starts to crawl on top of you, his body gently coaxing yours to lay back flat over the patterned comforter. You don't need a verbal cue from him to know what he wants and what his goal is; his body did all the talking -- just like it did when he played tennis.

"Fuck," he breathes out, his erection straining against the inside of his boxers as it presses against your bare abdomen. A lift of your hips is all the indication he needs from you to tell him that you're as desperate for this as he is right now, and so he gingerly begins to slide one of his hands down the front of your shorts. His touch dips under the waistband, and then before you can process the sensation, you realize that he's moving down into your panties too. One thing that you are painfully aware of, though, is the fact that he never tries to break eye contact while he does all this..

"Ahh.." you moan, your brows pinching up as you feel his warm fingertips brush over your throbbing, sensitive nub. He was hardly touching you, but it was enough to get the fire roaring in your guts. It was more than enough. He knew all the right ways to touch you.. and all the right spots to squeeze and caress.. which seemed crazy considering you two had never spoken to one another until about three or so hours ago.

He smiles gently, his eyes now moving to gaze down at your lips. The pads of Art's fingers begin to play with your clit, rubbing soft and incessant circles over the ball of nerves as you start to squirm on the bed. His head leans back down to kiss your neck and your hands shakily grab onto his shoulders. A laugh escapes him, coating your flesh in a bath of warm air, while he feels your nails dig into him. Even over the fabric of his cotton tee shirt he can feel this, and he winces slightly before the sting of your grip dissolves into pleasure and he starts to moan along with you.

A few more minutes of this go on, and the band in your stomach is stretched more and more until it feels like it's about to snap, and then-

"I really want to fuck you right now," Art murmurs against your skin, his fingers coming to a pause as he pulls his face from the crook of your neck to look down into your dazed eyes.

You blink a few times, feeling the numbing pressure in your pussy start to fade as he unintentionally edges you.

"yes, please.. I want you to.." you softly whimper, your hands reaching up to needily tug at his shirt.

"I don't have a condom," he whispers breathlessly, shaking his head softly as his gaze falls onto your lips now.

"I.." you pause, taking a second to breathe as you attempt to think over the predicament you're now in, "uhm.. I- well, I don't really care.. as long as you pull out.."

It's almost as if just the idea of him being able to be inside of you-- skin to skin; raw--sets him off, because the moment the words leave your mouth, he's letting out soft breathy moans and grinding his clothed pelvis against your thigh. You can feel him throbbing through the fabric, and now you're certain you can't wait much longer. Neither can he.

Your hands pull on his shirt again, forcing his face back down close to yours, "I want you inside of me.."

A groan and a grunt later, he's scrambling to pull his shirt off, and then his shorts, and then his strong calloused hands are gently tugging yours down as well. Art doesn't want to waste time on the act of undressing. Sure, he liked being tender and going slow most times, but this occasion was different. The more that he felt himself leaking into his underwear, the more he needed to feel your silky cunt grip around his cock. Maybe if he got your number after all this, he could go slow next time, but not now. Not when he's like this and you're like that.

When your panties are pulled down with your shorts, Art lets out a groan as he sees the fabric connecting with your delicate flesh via a glistening string of arousal from your heat.

"Jesus Christ," he huffs, his tongue moving to dip out over his bottom lip involuntarily. He pushes your shorts and panties down the rest of the way, and you urgently kick them off onto the room's carpet.

After he moves back up, one of his hands reaches down once again to your cunt. His fingers gently brush over your slicked-up folds, causing your body to jolt and shudder as you struggle to remain quiet. In the next instant, you feel his touch leave your body and you watch in awe as he brings his digits up to his lips and sucks your juices off of them. He rolls your wetness around over his tongue and his eyes roll back a little. He can't help it -- you just taste so fuckin' good.

"Art," you whisper, your voice dissolving into a soft whine, "c'mon.. just- I want you to-"

You're cut off when the man hovering over your form moves his fingers from his mouth and down to yours, effectively shutting you up.

"Suck," he whispers.

You do as you're told instantly, parting your lips to engulf his middle and ring finger in wet heat; your drool pools over his fingertips as your tongue swirls around them and tastes the mix of his saliva and the remnants of your arousal.

He watches with bated breath as you do this, his eyes never leaving your face, and he cant stop himself from pushing his hard, clothed dick against your bare cunt. Your eyes flutter. A string of whimpers echo out into the room from your chest, and you can feel more of your wetness slide down from your entrance.

Art keeps his fingers in your mouth as he uses his other hand to pull his hard-on out of his black boxer briefs, groaning as he taps your clit with the tip of it a few times. Each time his leaking cockhead touches your sensitive parts, your hips buck up. He didn't think it was physically possible to get as turned on as he was right then.

He shifts his pelvis back so that he can slide his dick over your sticky body, not pushing in quite yet, but just teasing your greedy hole. The feeling of your heady moans around his fingers cause them to vibrate, and he leans down close to your face on instinct.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your eyes blink open and you whimper as he uses his digits to gently force your lips to part so that he can shove his tongue past them. Art licks at the inside of your mouth, groaning while he subtly removes his fingers and brings them down to your clit once more. He slots your bundle of nerves between his index and middle finger, sliding them up and down to effectively stroke over your most sensitive area as you feel his cock prodding at your hole.

While his tongue laps over yours, his mouth eagerly swallowing the obscenely loud moans you're letting out as your climax approaches once again, he begins to slide his tip into you. Your eyes instantly open wide before your face scrunches up in pleasure and your hands desperately paw at his shoulders.

He slides in another inch.

And another.

And then two more.

And then he bottoms out completely, filling you wholly with his twitching length as he pulls his face back from your lips to gasp softly.

You look up at him as his brows furrow, and you wriggle underneath him as he lets out a soft growl.

"You're so tight.. shit, you feel so good," he murmurs lowly, his eyes on yours as he starts to slide himself slowly back out before thrusting back in. You can feel him hit your cervix. You'd let him bruise it if he wanted to.

And he wants to.

"Fuck me harder," you moan softly.

"Yeah?" he smirks, breathing heavily.

"Yeah."

He leans up so that his back is straight, and he gazes down at you while he slides his hands under your form to gingerly cup your lower back.. and then he's pounding into you without further warning.

Your back arches up from his hold, and every thrust of his thick cock into your cunt is sending explosions of numbing heat throughout your lower half.

Each movement of his hips results in a lewd squelch as his pelvis slaps into the underside of your ass, and every movement sends you closer and closer to the edge. He's groaning and moaning above you, watching your every move as you squirm around and take him properly. You want to be good for him; he can tell.

Whimpers and needy whines are forced out of you as he fucks you with abandon into the mattress, and your mind is forced back into reality once you feel his hands move from your back to your sensitive tits.

"Are you gonna cum? You're squeezing down on me," he breathes out, a loud groan cutting his words off as he tips his head back. His thrusts grow sloppier, "oh god, oh fff-u-uck.."

"Ye-- Uhh- Ahh-!" you hoarsely and brokenly moan out, unable to fully give him an answer. Your hands fist the cool sheets under you as your legs start to involuntarily squeeze together with the onslaught of your impending orgasm.

Art brings his head back up to look down at you, and he shakes his head, sliding his hands down from your breasts to your legs to lift them up and spread them apart gently but forcefully.

"Keep them spread.. I know you're close," he says softly to you, "I promise I'll let you come.. just keep being good for me.. I'm almost there.."

Once his words fill your fuzzy head, you can't help but let out an obscenely loud---borderline-pornographic---moan as your thighs shake in his hold. His cock slams into you faster, but with less and less precision. He bites his lip before his jaw slacks and he lets out an equally loud moan to accompany your filthy noises.

"You're so fucking pretty... you're so-- you feel so damn good," he babbles gruffly, his touch digging into your legs as his hips rashly thrust his throbbing length in and out of your sopping pussy.

You nod, unsure of what to say or how to even respond in the state that your body is in. You're somehow limp and tense at the same time, your body shivering as your back arches up again.

"I-- I'm gonna--!" you gasp out in a shaky whimper.

He moans at your words, fucking you deeper and messier, before he leans down over you and you can feel his broad toned chest press against yours.

"Say it.." he breathes out against your ear in a soft groan.

You moan, shuddering under him as your cunt starts to rhythmically tighten around him.

"I'm gonna cum," you whine, nearly sobbing.

"Fuck," he groans, "yeah? Say it again for me."

"I'm gonna cummm-!"

"You wanna cum on my cock?"

You nod helplessly, your arms wrapped around his flushed upper back as his cock slides in and out of you; his tip constantly brushing up against that special spot in your velvety walls hidden just a couple inches inside.

"Yess-s-!" you moan, your body absolutely writhing on the bed under his heavy form.

"Okay.. alright," he breathes out hotly into your neck, "go on and cum for me."

Before you can process what's going on, your body is overwhelmed with an overpowering heat as the last thing you distinctly feel is one of Art's hands moving down your lower abdomen to then rub circles over your swollen bud with his thumb. And that's all it takes -- You’re thrown over the edge.

"Fuck! OH MY GOD, OH--!" you cry out, your nails digging into his back as he fucks you through your climax.

He groans harshly and loudly against your warm skin before his hips stutter with the feeling of your hole pulsing around him. He keeps his digit rubbing incessant, soft circles over your clit to prolong your orgasm as he forces himself to pull out with a gasp.

His balls draw up and he reaches down quickly with his other hand to stroke over his length just as he feels his release start to rise up.

As you moan tremblingly and bask in your afterglow, you try to catch your breath as you shakily push yourself up onto your elbows just in time to watch Art squirt out a thick load over your torso. Rope after rope of sticky white fluid drips and gushes from his cock and between his fingers as he jerks himself off; shuddering deeply over you and letting out little "fuck"s and "oh my god"s and "yes"s.

After a few more shaky moments tick by, his thumb comes to a halt over your clit as he watches the last drops of his cum fall onto your stomach.

He breathes heavily, biting his lip as he watches your body shake. He loves the way his cum looks on your beautiful body.. it's like liquid pearl splattered all over you. He takes several mental pictures of the scene in front of him before he collapses on top of you with a soft grin.

You chuckle breathily, wrapping your arms around him as your warm bodies stick together in the aftermath, and he presses two soft kisses to your neck. One of your hands slides up from between his shoulder blades to run some of your fingers through his messy curls. He shivers and sighs, sliding his hands under your body to hold you closer to him.

A small period of comfortable silence is held between you two as you both work to catch your breaths, before Art is the one to break the quiet with a soft murmur into your shoulder.

"So.. can I get your number?"

"After round two," you whisper with a smile.

"Deal."

note; this is for everyone who voted for soft dom!art donaldson in that poll + the anons in my inbox asking for this sort of dynamic w/ art <3 much much much love !

divider credit: @benkeibear <3

[countryclubwh0re]

the cuntification of art donaldson: a thesis

in this essay i will —

[countryclubwh0re]

art is the MESSIEST kisser ever like if u make out his spit is literally everywhere. like he'll kiss u on the mouth then keep on kissing ur neck but w the wettest kisses ever. and i JUST KNOW he def drools. like when u give him head and his head is resting against a pillow, he's so lost in it that he can't even think. like the only thing he can do anymore is whimper and moan like a little bitch. and when u look at him u see him drooling all over the pillow😭

art donaldson has a messy mouth. he drools when it feels too good, he kisses with almost too much tongue when he's desperate, and his warm, eager lips are always on your skin whenever he gets a chance to touch you properly.

he practically salivates like a thirsty puppy on a hot day. it pools under his tongue whenever he catches a glimpse of the more intimate areas of your soft skin; the nape of your neck, your stomach, your inner thighs. and he has to try desperately to swallow it down when you two are in public and he can't get his lips on you.

the first time you and art made out, it was very sloppy. you thought this mightve been a result of minor inexperience on his part, or nervousness, or excitement, so you let it happen. you let him moan into your open mouth and grab at your shirt while he slid his pink tongue over yours. you let his sticky saliva mix with yours as your mouths mashed together. you let him kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until he came in his pants.

the whole ordeal lasted about 7 minutes.

after that, you had assumed that—in time—he'd get more reserved with his mouth as you two continued to be intimate.

but this didn't happen.

if anything, he only got more comfortable with you, and thus only became more orally-fixated and messy with his mouth.

he liked to suck on your fingers during sex.

he liked to slather your arousal with his spit when he went down on you.

he liked to kiss you wetly all over your body before bed.

he liked yearned for it all.

when you'd give him head, your slick lips bobbing over his tip and swallowing salty dribbles of precome, he'd drool all over whatever was near his mouth. it was just too hard to focus on not drooling when the warmth of your tongue got him close so fast. his eyes would get lidded and his knees would grow weak and his mind would turn to mush the second you started to blow him. sometimes you'd have to hold his hips to keep him steady. he was very predictable.

one thing you two like to do together is have art get on all fours on the bed, knees spread apart with his cock hard and hanging between his thighs. his hands will go up and squeeze onto the pillows as he lowers his head and lets you jerk him off.

it’s kinda demeaning, in a way; being milked like a cow.

but you like doing it to him, and he likes whatever you like, so he loves this.

when your hand starts to stroke his cock, strings of pre leaking from his slit, his arms will usually start to shake. it'll start at his shoulders, and then go down to his elbows, and then end when his wrists can't hold him up anymore. he'll let himself collapse down onto the cushions without more than a whine of protest and a renewed tint of pink across the bridge of his nose. his head will lay on one side of his face, his lips parted to let out whimpers and whines as his hips jolt, and then it’ll start.

he’ll drool.

all over.

down the side of his face, over his bottom lip, down his chin. it all happens depending on how his head is positioned. but he always, always, always slobbers on the pillow a little.

just as his eyes start to roll back, and his pelvis starts to shallowly move to thrust his cock into your moving grasp, his sweet and sticky saliva will dribble down his face someway and soak into the pillowcase.

he can't help it.

because, again, you make it hard to pay attention to anything other than how good you make his dick feel. it throbs in your hand.

when you catch a glimpse of his drooling, you usually smile and speed up your touch.

"Art, baby-" you'll coo to him, "drooling."

and he'll know right away what you mean.

"Anghh— feel s'good, s'good— 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he'll inevitably slur.

he'll try to wipe it with the back of his hand, but he's usually shaking too much for that to do much of anything. it more just smears the transparent fluid across his flushed face.

slurp. wipe. whimper.

a few more strokes of your hand, and a thumb pressed right under his cockhead, is all he needs to let go after that point.

his eyes will roll back as he cries out and bucks into your fist, shooting and coating the bedding underneath with his load. he'll tremble and whine until his hands grasping at the sheets below have the instinct to fly between his legs and stop the overstimulation. you generally let up soon after he makes that known.

after you clean him up and ease him into bed, he'll make sure to kiss you goodnight. and it's messy and needy and a little bit too much, but you let him do it anyways. he's eager to please, and he's eager to show you how much he appreciates the way you take care of him. he’s just eager.

maybe one day you'll get sick of how much tongue he uses when he kisses, but you doubt it. it’s just so perfectly him.

[countryclubwh0re]

OMG THIS IS SO HOOTT i loveeeee sub art 😫

Puppy art squirting 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

art’s laid out on his back with your hand around his cock, three loads pooled and shot out over his toned abdomen, and you’re still stroking him.

he’s whining and letting little punched-out gasps escape his chest, but it’s no use.

he knows you won’t stop.

i think the words you had used were ‘milk you dry’ when you had explained what your plans for him were tonight.

the blonde’s hands stayed behind his arched back, right where you told him to keep them, and tears pricked at his eyes as he squirmed and bucked his hips up into your first. sweat dripped down his trembling thighs, but you ignored it from where you sat between them.

“shh, puppy,” you coo, “relax for me… a lil bit came out last time, so you still have at least one more in you, ok?”

he shakes his head vehemently, trying his best to protest, but his swollen cock is doing most of the talking as it throbs and jumps.

your hand strokes him a little faster, and he all but wails.

“noo—! oh, god, please—” he sobs, tears threatening to spill over.

you only stroke him faster at the sound of his cries and focus your attention on his oversensitive tip.

“Art,” you say lowly, almost a warning, and you swear that you can imagine a tail tucking between his strong legs just from the look on his face.

he’s withering, pouting even, and then he’s back to moaning. you knew how to push him back into his place, and he enjoyed that. even if it sometimes made his dick feel like it was being scratched and tickled at the same time.

pain and pleasure. he could, and would, take it all for you if it made you happy.

a few more moments go by, and you then move your palm to glide right over his leaking slit.

art’s body convulses like he’s being electrocuted and his eyes go from being screwed shut to flying open.

“AH—” his hands fly out from behind his back and reach down for your wrist without his permission, wetness finally dripping down his cheeks from his flooded eyes as he shudders and hisses with oversensitivity.

“no, no, wait— wait,” he pleads, shaking his head, and he shakily retracts his touch from yours, but his palms hover over his twitching length, “that’s gonna be too much, it’s too much, it’s so much—”

he’s babbling now, gasping and slurring like he’s drunk, while your hands stop for the longest (and first) time since this whole thing started.

you look to his eyes, one hand wrapped around the base of him.

“you’re going to be ok,” you say softly, using your other hand to lean forward and wipe the tears from his cheeks, “you’re just gonna cum again.”

he shakes his head, sniffling.

“no, no, that felt weird,” he tries to explain between breaths and jolts of his spent body, “like something was gonna happen..”

you quirk a brow and then your entire body heats up as you realize what he’s describing. you’d seen it once or twice online, but you had no idea that art was able do it. and now, you were realizing, maybe he could.

you smile softly and breathlessly, giving him one firm stroke up and down before you pause your hand again. he curls in over himself and keens.

“do you trust me?” you speak gently.

he whimpers, but he nods. there’s a bit of hesitation in his head’s movements, as if he’s processing that you’re about to make his body do something that he’s never experienced before.

“hands behind your back, please,” you hum sweetly, but authoritatively nonetheless, and he complies without question.

all it takes is that one little indication of obedience from him, and your other hand is gliding up to swiftly start rubbing circles over the very tip of his cockhead with the flat of your palm.

he instantly sobs and cries out, shaking his head and digging his heels into the bedding while his head tips back into the pillows.

this only goes on for about fifteen seconds before he's gasping and lifting his head up to look down to you.

“oh my god, oh my god— oh— OH— no, no, something’s gonna come out, i’m gonna— it feels like i’m gonna—!”

your hand squeezes his tip now, and you begin to swipe the pad of your thumb rapidly over his slit.

“OH F-FUCK!” he yelps.

his legs kick out frantically on either side of you, his whole body arching up towards the ceiling as the strange coil in his gut finally snaps. he lets out one long, rushed, strangled moan, and then he squirts.

your jaw drops open as you watch the clear, watery fluid gush and fly out of him like a geyser, and you chuckle breathlessly.

“holy shit,” you murmur.

your thumb continues to glide back and forth over his tip as he releases more liquid, your digit faltering the stream, and he sobs harshly as he grasps at the sheets under his curved back where his hands remain.

after a couple long moments, the rush of fluid tapers off and he moans and whines little dopey, fucked-out words that make no sense.

you stop touching his tip, and glide that hand down to meet the one still holding his base. you sigh breathlessly as you sit there completely in awe.

art’s body collapses and his chest is heaving like you’ve never seen; for a second you’re worried he might pass out or hyperventilate, but he comes around.

his cheeks are flushed a bright red, tears muddling his baby blues, and his mop of shaggy blonde curls is a mess against the satin cushion under his head.

“Wh—” he mumbles, clearly still in a haze as the liquid trickles down the sides of his torso where most of it landed, “what just happened to me..?”

a breath.

“did i just… did i pee…?”

he whines softly and you remove your hands from his cock to lean down over his shaky form and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“you just squirted, it’s fine,” you try to reassure him, but this only seems to embarrass and confuse him further. although, the kiss helps ease some of this internal discomfort, even if just slightly.

he removes his hands tremblingly from under his back and pushes himself upright a little to look down over his wet stomach. he drops himself instantly back down and covers his eyes with his hands.

“i just pissed,” he says, his soft voice cracking with humiliation and exhaustion.

you frown and shake your head.

“Art, no, i promise you that you didn’t,” you tell him, trying to further soothe him, “it can happen when you get overstimulated, it’s okay.”

he tries to process your words, he really does, but he doesn’t have the brain capacity for it yet. he just moves to wrap his arms around you and push his face into your neck.

“i’m sorry,” he wheezes.

you kiss him some more. twice on the side of his head and then once over his shoulder. he relaxes a little more.

you return the embrace and sigh, rubbing his upper back as you pull his heavy upper body into your arms a bit further.

“don’t be sorry,” you whisper, “you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all fine..”

he doesn’t say anything but you can tell that he’s too busy recovering to really take your words to heart.

you can take a quick shower with him, make him some dinner, cuddle and dote on him, and then maybe—just maybe—he’ll be open to talking about it. maybe he’ll even want to do it again.

who knows?

after all, he’ll do anything for you.