#&. ART DONALDSON x reader

[jesuistrestriste]

Sage hear me out...

Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy

art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.

he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.

sigh.

when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.

“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.

“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.

he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.

and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.

“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”

he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”

the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.

“can i… can i please have you now?”

a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.

“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.

“you’re forgetting something, Art.”

it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.

“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”

the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”

“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“

his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.

“what do you want?”

god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.

but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.

there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).

but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.

“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”

you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.

you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.

you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.

“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.

art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.

you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.

you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.

his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.

he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.

“please, mommy”

“come in my mouth, mommy”

“give it all to me, mommy”

“i can take it, mommy”

you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?

he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.

and holy fuck, you come hard.

a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.

“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”

you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.

but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.

“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.

he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.

your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.

you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.

“so good, baby..”

art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.

he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.

something that he’s earnestly dying to say.

something that he knows you deserve to hear.

“thank you.”

[minnie-cai]

having soft sex with art for the first time and be starts crying?

but not dacryphilia or because he’s in pain or sad. he’s crying happy tears. because he’s just so overwhelmed by the affection and the attention and how gently you touch him and he suddenly realizes that he’s just extremely grateful to have you.

that’s why he was crying, emotions just bubbled up and one thing led to another and as he was slowly moving his hips, his cock smoothly pushing into you, you realize that the groans coming from his mouth as he’s hiding his face into the crook of your neck, have turned into whines and whimpers and when you hear a sniffle, that’s your last straw.

you hum, whispering his name as you place your hands on either sides of his head.

“…look at me, please?”

you murmur and he meets your eye. soft bloodshot gaze looking desperate but more alive than ever. he blubbers and he sobs and he mumbles little apologies as you try to speak to him.

“art, stop. i just want to know if you’re okay. what happened?” you say and he responds in a muffled, raspy voice, his words cracking. “i’m okay… i love you so much… i don’t- i don’t know why, i just felt like crying. i’m sorry.”

[parkerluvsu]

omg super silly but like maybe art finishing in his pants or even finishing untouched… think about it… think about it… just a quick lil blurb idc but like … think about it

YESSS i have all the time in the world to talk about this...

he's just so sensitive he can't help it :( it makes him so embarrassed, he feels like "less of a man".. the first time it happened was one of the first times you were making out.. art is a very passionate kisser, from the moment your lips touch he's practically drooling against you <33 and he can't help but buck his hips into the air while he kisses you, caressing your soft skin and letting out soft whines into your mouth... he stops moving his lips very abruptly, taking a beat before pulling away and rushing to the bathroom, leaving you to sit on your bed and wonder if you did something wrong.. meanwhile art is in the bathroom.. face tomato red as he carefully pulls down his boxers, strings of creamy cum scattered on the front.. he almost hisses in pain when he has to pull them back on and walk back out to you.. he always gets so sensitive after he cums.. he'll tell you what happened eventually but for now he'll just say he got light headed <3

[challenger-fan-club]

fwb Art who's absolutely in love with you and obsessed with you and who asked to be your boyfriend many times and taking you on many dates but you kept rejecting until one day he gets to know that you're going on a date with someone else so he tries to stop thay date from happening and showing you who you belong to by having the most passionate sex and finally convincing you to accept you as your boyfriend

you can say you don't want this to be Stanford Art but it is.

You've turned him down so many times. But you can't stay away from him. The way he kisses you, the way he touches you. You're needy for him but you know that you can't be in a relationship with him. He's not good for you, not good for you to be distracted. You're not exactly the dating type and Art is almost ready to be a husband. All your friends think you're insane, you know that they're ready to settle down but we're too young and you want to be carefree for just a while. Art is also so very nice, and sweet and kind and you don't want to hurt him when you inevitable self destruct. You rationalise it to protect yourself, it would be like torturing a puppy. You don't want to waste his time and effort. You're doing this for him.

But you can't keep yourself away from Art. You always end up at his door at the end of the night, and he's so obsessed with you, he'll never tell you no. He just makes you cups of tea and cuddles you and keeps you warm. Giving you everything that you want, whenever you want it. "We're just friends with benefits." You tell him and repeat to yourself and Art nods his head as if to say "i know." He invites you to the bar with him, says Patrick and his new girlfriend will be there but they always seem to mysteriously cancel. Patrick was either the worst friend or just didn't exist. "This is not a date Art." He gets you both drinks. He gives you the "i know" nod, slightly hurt, given you a face, slightly like you've stood on a puppys paw. Art asks to be your boyfriend a lot. And you know that you should cut him off and let him go but you can't help yourself. It's like you and Art are magnets or somehow cosmetically intertwined.

Art walks up to you and your friends standing talking. It kills him because he wants to wrap his hands around you like he did in his bed last night. But because you're just fuck buddies, he can't kiss you. He's not even sure if your friends know that you've been seeing each other for the last while. You try to ignore him as you're continuing the conversation as one of your friends starts speaking to him. "Do you know where youre going? and more importantly, what are you wearing?"

Art's ears perk up at the conversation and you try and ignore him again. "I think we're just going for drinks, nothing special." You say softly. "and then back to his? I'm so jealous, he's so fucking hot. I can't believe he just asked you out." You tried to hold back a wince when she said it. You didn't mean for Art to find out about it, at all. Definitely didn't want him to find out like this. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to look at him and you didn't know when he was looking at you. "You should wear that black dress you wore a few weeks ago... and those boots, you'd look so hot!" Your friend continued but you had already withdrawn from the conversation. You knew that outfit worked because Art wanted to take you to the nearest empty room when he saw you wearing it. "I'll text you later, let you know how it goes." You left the conversation. Art stood, making small talk with your friends.

It was around half past 8 when you were getting ready. You were stupidly nervous. You didn't really go on dates, especially with people you didn't know. And you hadn't heard from Art all day long which made you nervous. You didn't want to hurt Art, you didn't know if Art was hurt. He was sensitive so you could only assume that he was sulking in his room. There was a knock at your door as finished fixing your make up. You looked at yourself in the mirror before answering the door. "Hi Art, what are you doing here?" He looked at your face for a moment before letting your eyes gaze over your body. Your curvy hips and cleavage was on show, dress hitting just above your thighs. Art thought you looked perfect. "Are you not going to invite me in?" Art smiled at you. "uhh... actually I'm just getting ready to go out." You were confused. Had he not heard the conversation earlier? You watched him as he followed you into your room. "Yeah, I know... I just thought I could convince you to stay here." He was being very confident, somewhat dominant which he normally isn't it. "Art, cmon." He sat on the bed as he watched you putting your earring in. "Cmon what?" You stood in front of him as he ran his hands on the outside of your thigh. "tell me, you don't want to cancel on him and stay here with me." You were biting your lip as he touched your thighs. "Art..." His hands rubbed up your body to your hips as he pulled you closer, separating his legs, allowing you to stand in between them.

He starts by kissing your stomach. He looks up at you as he pulls your dress up your thighs slowly, his kiss moving slowly down your body. "You know he can't make you feel as good as I can..." he continued to kiss down your body before placing his kiss on your underwear. Your hands were in his hair, rubbing his head, encouragingly. He started to pull you down your underwear as he guided you to the bed. "Art, he's going to be here soon." He just smiled as he started kissing your neck and his hands started rubbing your clit, dipping his fingers into you as you moan against him. "Good, he can hear how good I make you feel." He started to bite at your collar bone, trying to leave a mark. "Artttt..." you almost moaned. "Thats it, say my name, say who you belong to." He moved his fingers faster until you were begging for him to fuck you. Art was really playing a very good game, making you moan, making you a mess underneath him. "You're so good." He swiftly moved his boxers down and allowed his cock to bounce free as he rubbed it against your wetness. He started to push himself inside of you, inch by inch as you moaned. He kissed your mouth, passionately before moving his kiss back to your neck, down to your chest where he pulled your dress down so your breasts were exposed. He started sucking, licking and biting on your nipples as he slammed into you. "Art, fuck I'm gonna cum." You moaned as he quickened his pace. "That's it, good girl, cum on my cock, cum for me, you're all mines." He moaned as he switched between kissing you and playing with your nipples. "you're so good, fuck, you feel so good." He couldn't stop as he started to fill you the second you let your orgasm go. He continued to kiss you and move the hair out of your face. "You're literally so gorgeous." He whispered in your ear as he held his cock inside of you. "when are you finally going to admit that you were made for me?" he kissed your neck. You sighed. "Art, you know..." Art kissed you again. "Don't do this, whatever your worries are about me, we can do it, together. I want you. All of you and you want me, very clearly." He kept your gaze as he held you. "It's all of me or none of me, I'm not playing seconds." The words hurt you and you got a brief moment to think about this being the last time, that the other option was no Art in your life. "I'm happy to wait." He pulled himself away and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You were alone for just a moment. You didn't want you and Art to be over. But you thought you knew how you felt, what you wanted but everything Art said and did, just made your heart hurt. You wanted him. You needed him. When you thought he was mad at you, you felt weak and now he's here. Saying it's him or nothing. You thought you had the power, always telling him no to a relationship but being faced without Art, you didn't want to do it. The thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shit. Your date. This was your sink of swim moment.

Art popped his head out of the bathroom. "should i hide in the bathroom or tell him to go away?" Art was topless looking down at you with just his boxer shorts on. "Tell him to go away, then take your shorts back off?" His face almost lit up. "So you're finally gonna be my girl?" You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. "I'm all yours Donaldson."

[niya-writesshit]

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

cowboy!art donaldson x fem!reader

TW: use of y/n (1), smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), swearing, not proofread

word count: 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n: uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference! and this is kinda shit im sowwy

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there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotched. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties with a crooked finger. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.' the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

¡! ❞ a/n: i believe this is the longest thing i've written on this blod everyone applaud!

[0anonnymouslyours0]

stanford!art who needs a rebound after tashi and patrick officially get together 

he’s seen you at games before, in little white tennis skirts, with your friends. one time patrick even pointed you out and said you were hot. so after a game, he approaches you. makes you laugh,and then blush when he compliments your outfit. your friends all nag you to leave, and you go before he can get your  number. he goes home and stalks your insta, until he finds a coffee shop you frequent. he spends a week going every morning, waiting in a booth to see if you show up. and one morning you do, in a short skirt that makes him shift in his seat. you spot him, go sit down. he orders and pays for your coffee. you ask about tennis, he asks if you have a boyfriend. you smile and bat your eyes when you say no. he asks for your number, and you laugh, saying he doesn’t get that quite yet. and then you leave, and art is left to his own devices. that being, convincing his professor to let him switch into your class. he comes into your class, acting all confused and lost. pretends to be surprised when he sees you sitting in the front. you wave him over, he sits down next to you. 

and the game begins.

every glass he sits a little closer to you, touches you a little more. once a week he pretends to study in the coffee shop. he walks around the gardens in front of your dorm in the afternoons. 

when you start showing up to all his tennis matches he knows he’s scored a point.

when he walks into the coffee shop and sees you already sitting in your seat in the morning, he knows. and when you rest your head on his shoulder mid-lecture he’s certain.

[melancholicmelanin]

Compress/Repress | Teaser

Four lives collide in a decades-long whirlwind of love, rivalry, and buried secrets. What begins as a chance encounter between seeming strangers quickly spirals into a web of hidden truths, shattered dreams, and the kind of messy relationships you only read about in the pages of Us Weekly. As the years pass, the bonds between them—fueled by ambition and desire—start to unravel, forcing each to confront a haunting question: Can you ever outrun the past, or will it inevitably catch up to you?

Chapter 1 - Coming Soon, 22 September 2024

Chapter 2 - ???

Chapter 3 - ???

Chapter 4 - ???

Chapter 5 - ???

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[sequoiaisstrange]

Bonding with ice skating!art outside of practice

Many platonic ice skating duos don’t spend their free time together because they spend so much time together, but that was the complete opposite for the two of you since you guys got over your “hating” each other phase.

A lot of your time spent together was being lazy, like watching a movie and overeating, because you two were the only other person who wouldn’t tell your couches that you were cheating on your diet.

At first, it wasn’t your guy's choice because you guys were told you needed to bond more, but it became so regular to you guys that you’d show up to each other's houses without making plans because you were already expected.

You guys started out sitting as far away from each other as possible because you spent a lot of time with your bodies very close, fighting and sitting on your phones, probably texting your friends about how much you hate each other. But now you guys sit right next to each other, sometimes touching and not caring what you are watching as long as you get to spend time with each other.

Your guys' other “free time” is probably spent working out together, trying to burn off all the junk food you guys ate the day before. It didn’t require your couch, but it was always better to have someone to work out with so it wasn’t so boring.

And like before, you started with you guys having headphones on the whole time and only talking to each other when you needed a spot, but now you guys pretty much talk the entire time and know each other routines to the point that you don’t even ask for a spot anymore you just automatically do it.

I love that this little cheese au is what is getting me out out my writing rut and I have so many more planed. Also the Patrick one is being started but I'm still trying to figure out the dynamics of it. Also the next part of this au will have angst.

[diyasgarden]

bows 🎀

Tashi would let you tie a bow to her racket. You bring it up as a joke one day, saying it would be for good luck. In response, she just shrugs and ends up letting you do so. You get a ribbon in your favorite color and make a bow with it when you tie it onto the handle. You do it tight so it doesn't fall off and she plays with it the entire game! After the game, you expect her to take it off, but she never does. In some way, it does become a good luck charm for her. She keeps it with her for all her games. Even after her career ends, she still keeps the racket with the bow attached to it.

You have made Art and Patrick wear bows in their hair before. With Art, you asked him couple of times and he finally gave in. He let you bunch up his curls (braid some even) and tie in little bows. You pick a dark color to contrast the blonde of his hair, and he looks very cute. This is before his hair cut of course. After retirement he stops getting his hair cut like that and let's it grow. It's not as curly any more, but still enough that you could tie bows into it again. At that point, Lily puts bows in it at least once a week.

As for Patrick, it was a dare. You were playing truth or dare with him and Art, and of course he picked dare. As a result you made him wear bows in his hair for a week. You had asked him before (just like you asked Art), but Patrick always said no. Naturally you were going to take this opportunity to do this. You end up tying ribbons in his hair each day that week, and true to the dare he doesn't take them off. After this point, he kind of realized he liked it and then every once in a while let you do it again for fun.

[newrochellechallenger2019]

mmm imagine punishing art by staying silent during sex.

he loves when you're loud, when you can barely breathe between your moans, only he can make you like this, when his cock slams into the exact right spot that makes your toes curl, or when his tongue flicks over your clit and sends you spiralling into orgasm, moaning his name over and over.

but today he messed up, he blew his match against Berkeley...again, and you can hardly look at him as you both walk back to his dorm.

'Baby please-' he begins, his voice pleading.

'He beat you in straight sets! How does that even-' You cut him off, pissed.

He hangs his head in shame, 'I know, I'm sorry, I just got in my head.'

You fold your arms over my chest, 'I thought you were getting better at not letting that happen.' You say firmly.

'I thought I was too...' he says despondently and your heart aches a little.

He looks up at you then, eyes wide and submissive. 'Can I make it up to you?' he says softly, undisguised hope in his voice.

You consider his request, this normally works, he'll fuck your brains out and you'll forget why you were ever mad at him.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, shifting your thighs apart slightly as an invitation, 'Come on then' you coax gently as he all but scrambles to sit at your feet, gazing at you hungrily as he tugs your shorts down your legs and tossing them aside.

He shuffles forward, kissing your thighs, 'so pretty...so fucking pretty' he murmurs between kisses, before biting down hard on your inner thigh.

You yelp in surprise and he looks sheepish as he licks the bite mark soothingly, returning to kissing up to your panties.

He looks up at you, eyes wild with lust and a devilish smirk spreading across his face, 'all for me?' he teases, fingertip lightly brushing your pussy through your granny panties, since you hadn't planned on fucking him today.

'Funny' you deadpan as he pushes them aside, his nail brushing over your clit and you shudder.

He smirks wider at your reaction, feeling prematurely victorious.

He lowers his head again, hands digging into your thighs as he laps at your entrance teasingly.

You stifle a whimper as he continues, tongue swirling around your clit eagerly.

He looks up at you for a brief moment, confusion growing in his eyes before he slips his tongue into your entrance and you jaw clenches as you fight to stay silent.

He seems undeterred as he tongues your g-spot and you arch your back, still refusing to make a sound.

He starts to fuck you with his tongue more aggressively, eager to incite a single noise from you, but you lips remain firmly pressed together.

He whines then, pausing to look up at you pleadingly. 'Baby...come on...you know i love your little noises'.

He takes his middle and ring finger and presses them into your entrance, watching intently for a reaction, 'Please...I wanna hear how much you're enjoying this' he whimpers as his fingers increase their pace.

'Come on...i can feel how much you're enjoying it!' he whines as your walls clench around his fingers and your head is thrown back.

He adds a third finger, desperate to push you to climax, knowing you'll moan for him then and you inhale sharply.

A slow grin spreads across his face as his fingers curl against your cervix and your eyes flutter closed.

'Baby...I know you want to...' he coaxes, fingerfucking with renewed vigor.

Your legs start to shake, a sign you're reaching climax and his tongue flicks over your clit eagerly.

A moan slips out as you cum, 'Oh fuck...fuck...fuck', gripping his hair as he continues to finger you through your orgasm, slowing until he removes his fingers, a overjoyed look on his face as he licks his fingers clean.

'I'm the only one who can make you moan like that, aren't i?' He says, eager for praise.

You pant as you come down from my high, 'Yeah...yeah you are.' you smile dazily as he stands and captures your lips in a kiss.

'Not cool by the way' He teases playfully.

You laugh, 'It worked...one of the best orgasms i've had.'

[jesuistrestriste]

art donaldson who is obsessed with his looks.

just less in a vain way, and more in a “i desperately want them to notice me” way.

he buys body scrubs and protein-rich hair masks and salicylic acid facial toners and sheet masks and luxurious lotions and—

everything that he’s seen people use online; all in hopes of catching your eye.

he wants to look clean. he wants to look soft. he wants to look smooth. he wants to look good. he wants you seeing his bouncing blonde curls and shiny muscles and moisturized body, and think ‘wow, this guy is exactly what i’ve been looking for!’

i mean, what purpose would he serve for you if he wasn’t attractive?

he doesn’t even have to end up becoming your boyfriend, he’d settle with just being able to touch you under the covers if that was all you wanted from him.

a little piece of the whole you would be better than nothing.

sometimes he gets a little embarrassed when he’s in the middle of shaving his chest in the shower, but he reminds himself that it’ll all be worth it when you take one look at him—shirtless on the courts—and see how much he looks like a model from a designer catalogue.

because he does.

…doesn’t he?

[tinytennisskirt]

Chrysalism

noun. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm

summary: you wake up on a particularly dark and dreary early morning, needing to head into work a little too early for your liking. not to fiancée! art’s liking either- in asking you to stay, there’s the privilege of partaking in your morning routine in a sweet, slow, domestic, display of connection n a little smut. maybe you don’t really need to go to work anyway-

warnings: super sweet!!! kissing, having hair washed, easy touches- balance of fluff and smut: super slow n sexy unprotected shower sex <3

“I have work,” you groaned, hitting the alarm button. Art stretched out as you returned your torso to the bed, sighing heavily. It was still dark out and the rain pattered heavily against the window. You could hear the wind as it hit the side of the house and blew the trees outside. “I don’t want to go.”

“So don’t,” Art sighed, slinking his hand over the bare skin of your waist. Smooth hands over your smooth skin. It would be a dark day, clouded over, the weather had said. The first step was to shower but with Art’s arm around you, it felt wrong to move. You looked at him, his eyes shut, perfectly eyelashes resting closed. You admired his nose, his eyebrows, the curve of his lips. He was so pretty. His inhale, his exhale, in the blue static darkness of the room.

“I have to go,” you whispered, running your hand through his hair. You’d slept with your ring on, you noticed- and you smiled.

“Stay,” he shook his head just slightly, his fingers dipping into your skin a little tighter. “Please.” He planted a soft kiss on the skin of your shoulder. Non-sexual, yet entirely intimate. You hated your responsibilities more than anything, you hated needing money to live because if it wasn’t needed, you’d stay in a heartbeat. You’d stay and sleep again, no hesitation. Every bone in your body wanted you to stay, to sleep, to lean over and kiss him for as long as you wanted, but you had to go. His ‘please’ echoed around your head.

“Mmm- I want to, I promise,” you exhaled softly. “Can’t.”

His eyes opened just the slightest bit, his mouth twisting to the side a little. “Okay.” You could hear the slight rumble of thunder outside your window, soft shadows of drops of rain patterning the white comforter. He was so pretty, eyes closed again, face against the pillow, arm still around you.

You leaned in and kissed him gently. Lips soft, a kiss so perfectly delicate. Reciprocated, just the same. His other hand pushed your hair behind your ear before cupping your face, a tired motion, noted from how slow of a motion it seemed to be. The kiss was also slow- and warm. Warmer than outside would be. Warmer than leaving this bed would be. Slow and all-consuming.

His hand on your waist, fingertips less gentle, but still keeping that same pressure as they stayed on the soft skin of your back. Your hand rested on his smooth chest, sliding down around his ribs and back again. Your eyes stayed closed, it felt like maybe you were still sleeping. You wished you were still sleeping.

The kiss was only a moment long, but it was hard to pull away from. The disconnect of your lips felt wrong. On a day like this, you were meant to stay. The rain was telling you so, the thunder outside was yelling at you, most importantly, Art had wanted it. Your hands slid up the back of his neck, coming to rest partially in his hair and to cup his face just slightly. His tired smile and closed eyes, those gorgeous eyelashes fluttering just the slightest bit.

“I love you,” you reminded him, kissing him on the nose. His grin spread wide across his perfect face as he kissed you again properly.

“I love you too,” he told you, then kissed you on the cheek. Your hands slid down from his face, one of them trailing down his arm, squeezing his hand when you got to it. His smile stayed as you squeezed his hand.

You slid off the bed, hand still in his, the blankets falling around you. As you stood, his hand fell from yours. You crossed the room, grabbing a towel off the newly folded pile from the day before, and you grabbed a second towel thoughtfully. Of course, Art, in love with you, was watching you stand across the room in only your underwear. His smile was still there, of course. “You coming?” You asked him cheekily, opening the door to the bathroom. His eyes widened just a little, both at the light pouring from the bathroom, and at your offer. You didn’t wait for an answer, but you turned on the shower and best believe he was up and out of bed in a second. He might have been rubbing his left eye of the sleep, but he was up.

You smiled and he chuckled as he swayed into you, arms slinking around your waist as you shut the bathroom door. “Sorry I’m waking you up with me,” you smiled. He grinned back and you swayed just slightly back and forth another moment.

“I don’t mind,” he nodded, grinning before he bent to kiss you just once. You pardoned him in order to strip down the rest of the way. He tested the water while you did so, standing in only his boxers. The moment you were entirely naked he glanced over and grinned the widest he had yet today, before shutting the light off. It was more ambient that way, you figured. Plus, it probably helped Art with the boner he sported the moment you asked him to come shower with you. You placed the ring on the counter safely-

Wordlessly, too early for too many words, really- you both stepped into the shower. You grabbed the soap and began to wash down. The warm water was a dangerous threat to fall back asleep. You heard Art yawn behind you, using his bar of soap, known by the familiar apple-y scent. Soap and rinse, easy enough. The thunder outside could be heard just slightly over the sound of the running water. “What time are you off today?” Art asked.

You felt a cold liquid on your head and you flinched just a little before realizing it was only Art putting shampoo in your hair. His hands followed, gently putting it through your hair. You allowed your eyes to shut. “4:30,” you replied. “It’s not too bad today. We can get dinner if you feel up for it.”

“Italian?”

“I’ll be thinking about it all day,” you hummed. His hands felt good on your scalp. They were slow-moving but had the perfect pressure. Gently getting the shampoo in every place it was needed. He was sweet for this.

“I’ll pick you up then,” he answered. “4:30.”

“4:30,” you nodded. His hands left your hair so you turned around to rinse it out while he started on his own hair. Eyes shut, water running down your body, shampoo rinsing down the drain. Once it was all out, you wordlessly swapped places with Art to let him rinse himself off. Sleep still hung in the air, the white noise of the water and the thunder and the warm of the water was not helping it disappear. You were both so slow-moving it was apparent you weren’t the only one feeling it.

The outline of his body in the dim of the darkness was so pretty. His hand slid around your waist as you switched spots once more for you to put conditioner through your hair and rinse it out. The moment it was rinsed, you felt both of his hands slip around your waist and find places to rest on your lower back. He stepped closer to you, bodies pressed together, water running down the channel that was made where your skin met. You grinned, “Art.”

“Yeah?”

You looked up at him, seeing his smile, even in the dark. The smile he sported even as he kissed you. The kiss was slow again, gentle, slightly slippery but entirely calculated. Your hands slid over his chest, up over his shoulders and around his neck. The water poured over the both of you as the kiss deepened. He was so gentle, the way his hand slid back up your waist and down your hip again, over your ass. Wet skin on wet skin, an open-mouthed kiss that somehow sent shivers down your spine even in the warm water.

The kiss stayed tame, though it didn’t stop any overwhelming emotion from seeping through. You could feel him getting hard against you, a second time, but still appreciated. You giggled through the depth of the kiss. “Shhh,” he grinned into another kiss to silence you. Still slow, still tame, still easy. Cold shivers replaced by warm wanting. Removing your body from flush against him, your hand slowly sliding down his arm, over his hip, coming to rest on his shaft. He flinched, just slightly. He wouldn’t stop you, of course not. His kiss faltered for just a moment.

Your hand slowly began to push up and down his length. You took a step backward, pulling him with you with your back against the cold shower wall. He kissed you no harder as you worked him gently, however, he sighed harshly as you did. Between breaths and water was pure magnetism and an undeniable course of action. Undeniable in the way he gently moved your leg upward and you didn’t stop him either. Slowly. So slowly. Coming to rest in his arm, partially set foot on the edge of the tub.

It was slow, how your hand moved in order for him to properly line up and sink into you. With a slowness that begged not to be, but sent a warm flush through your entire body, through every vein. You let out a mutual sigh as he sank into you entirely against the wall. Levelled just perfectly, one hand of his now resting on the wall above your head. You grabbed onto his back, the open, bare skin the only thing you really could grab as you felt him slowly fill you. A little out of the plan but god, you’d never stop him.

His breath was shaky a moment, but gained pace as he slowly moved back out, then slowly back in. The pace was steady, sleepy, and so fucking good. His lips against yours felt just a little less calculated, as were yours, sharing air with him as the droplets dripped between your lips. This angle seemed to work for the both of you- all too well. Both of you, muffling the noise of the thunder with heavy breathing at such a slow… pace… that… every… feeling… dragged… itself… out… to… every… nerve… ending… in… your… body.

You kissed him just a little harder but never any faster. Grabbing at him like he could get any closer, buried inside of you, slowly thrusting in and upward. He never failed to make your head spin just a little. Even this… as slow as it was, added to just how good it felt. It saved you from thinking about work another second- god, you had to work after this. He kissed you back just the same, god, his kiss was so perfect. All of this, perfect.

Your other arm slid up his back, up behind the back of his shoulder, hooking on as best you could, keeping him close, so close, god, you were so close. Handlessly, so close. He wasn’t even- “God-“ You breathed.

“Fuck,” Art muttered. You were on the same page, you felt him get slightly sloppier and slightly faster. Only slightly, still all-filling and still perfect and every thrust was so-

His lips met yours again, strong, careful not to push your head against the wall, but enough to consume you the way he needed to. You were teetering on a rare edge, one that usually didn’t come around without extra help. You were chasing it up, so was he. It was almost simultaneous, the way it happened, unravelling slowly like rope drawn by a boat. Every wave of pleasure built and joined into one big wave that spilled over.

The both of you came undone, his grip on your leg tightening the same way your grip on his side and his shoulder increased. He was good, he was so good, too good. He groaned against your lips, breathing heavily. You kissed just a few more times, small, easy. His forehead rested against yours a moment, only a moment, small smiles resting as the both of you tried to catch your breath. He was good. “Call in sick?”

“I feel a cough coming on,” you breathed with a giggle. You kissed him again, just quickly. Might have been the quickest thing about the entire morning. He grinned that perfect crooked grin, visible even in the darkness.

He kissed your forehead and after a moment of rinsing, the water got turned off, you got wrapped in a towel and you were on the phone with your boss, who completely understood. You hardly ever took any days off and you were well-loved, so of course she let you go. The moment that phone was down, you jumped back into bed, right next to Art, who had kept the lights off.

Your head rested on his chest as you wordlessly traced patterns in the droplets on the soft skin of his stomach. The thunder continued to rumble outside and the room seemed to continue to dim. Still so early, you didn’t mind that you knew you were falling back asleep. Art kissed the top of your head, just gently, but sweetly. “Italian still?”

“Dreaming of it.” You replied tiredly. The two of you fell right back asleep, safely, soundly, and together. A little damp, but still warm on a cold, dark morning.

- I keep losing track of taglist, let me know if you want to be on it <3

taglist: @ellzbellz18 @swetearss @iluvsmut36 @colorful-teaparty @ke4s @lalalandofive @ladystardust-thinks

[parkerluvsu]

i’m DOWN BAD for bsf!Art he’s such a good friend but he just can’t stop thinking about her naked no matter what they’re doing he’s just in awe of her!!! i need him biblically 🙏😩😩

no you're so right.. i need him to be my bsf who's secretly such a perv <3 but art feels so guilty about it :( ever since you were kids he was the one to protect you from bullies or creepy guys.. now he's afraid that you'll never trust him again if you find out all the things he thinks about you...

imagining you naked is his favorite past time <3 a couple years ago when he was watching a match of yours, you were grabbing your tennis racket and the wind blew up your skirt a little bit.. he's been a goner since then.. it only annoys you because you just think he's not focused or not listening to you, when really his mind is imagining how good all of your clothes would look on the floor..

(nsfw)

and when art gets back from study sessions with you he always has to jerk his cock so furiously, scrolling your insta page for that one photo of you in a bathing suit on vacation.. its easier for his brain to imagine you naked in that picture.. and god he's drooling and humping into his hand and before he knows it he's got cum all over your face on the screen :( the blush on his face as he grabs a tissue is so furious.. he doesn't know how he'll ever meet your eyes again... (but of course he comes over that night when you ask.. and of course the cycle repeats itself <3)

[judeable-brainrot]

@cricketcanelane i see you 👀

Patrick and Tashi bring their two puppy boys out to the park to run around since it’s been raining a lot this week, leaving the two stuck inside and pitiful. once the sun hits their skin they instantly are up and energized, running about and climbing things while their owners sit off to the side and chat, keeping an eye on them.

eventually, they notice that their pups have gotten really quiet and as they turn to look for them, they don’t see any sign of them being on the park. instantly, their up and searching, yelling their names and whistling, trying to get their puppies back. Patrick’s off near a rubbery cave tunnel that pups run through quite often when he hears a faint yet echoey panting sound. and a slapping sound.

he kneels down and looks inside to see Art mounted on the back of his puppy, shorts pulled down hastily to his knees, driving into them. he’s sweating and whining, biting into the other pup’s neck as his balls smack against their plump ass. Patrick’s pup is whimpering, shorts around their ankles as they lay ass up in the mulch for Art. Patrick feels his stomach twist at the sight, slowly backing away to get Tashi to come see.

they both return and Tashi’s face hardens as she sees the display. both puppies are too far gone to notice the small audience they’ve gathered. Art’s going harder, faster and the pup below him is moaning higher and higher. just as he’s about to reach his peak and spill into Patrick’s puppy, Tashi speaks up. “What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” they both freeze instantly, big puppy eyes wide with guilt. Tashi reaches inside and grabs Art by his collar, dragging him out of the tunnel (and out of Patrick’s pup)

she dusts him off and drags his shorts back up around his waist, putting his boner snuggly into the waistband. Patrick gently guides his pup out as well, doing the same for them. “you two are in big trouble.” Tashi chides, as Art whimpers from the shame and his ruined orgasm. Patrick nods, his puppy shifting their feet, hole slick and clenching around nothing. they know they’re in for a hell of a punishment.

[saintzweig]

going back to your dorm late at night after studying all day, not even bothering to change your clothes as you lay down on your bed with your eyes closed. your bag and books on the floor, and your make up still on. art comes by with some take out because he knows you're exhausted and probably haven't eaten dinner yet so he left practice early just to get food for the both of you.

he sits down beside you and you immediately shift on your bed to place your head on his lap, eager to feel his comfort. without a word, he takes your make up wipes from your bedside and begins to gently take your make up off for you. even with your eyes closed, you could tell he was doing his concentration face, his eyes focused and the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. he loves taking care of you and you love being taken care of by him.

[chlmtsdoll]

i would love to see mood boards about reader and art or just readers aesthetic that would be so cute !!

OMG YES. Aesthetics are my thing bestie !!

Let’s start with Art x my kind of reader ;) preppy pink park avenue princess on the tennis stars arm 🤍 or in other words, basically Art x Sugar!baby mood board 🎀

Surprise trips around the world, bouquet of flowers waiting for your arrival at home, pre-warmed robes after a bath, dinners at upscale five star restaurants, your dream designer bags and jewelry, plus a ring to sit pretty on your finger. Art was always one step ahead of keeping you, his adorned princess, the happiest girl in the world. ♡