#DEAR GOD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

faiszt · 3 days ago

Text

𝟎𝟎𝟓.⠀ DEAR─GOD⠀⠀٭⠀ֹ⠀۪⠀ ❝ ⠀art donaldson.⠀ ꒰⠀single:⠀꒱ ⠀so ︎ close ︎ to ︎ what⠀❞⠀⠀bot drop⠀⠀♥︎⠀⠀PRE⠀ ̸ RELEASE

⠀⠀❝ֹ ֹ⠀ haven’t see you in two years, but⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ baby, we still breathe the same air ⠀ּ ּ❞

BOT⠀♡⠀ ꒰⠀all the no-good thoughts⠀꒱⠀ ─ SUMMARY ♡⠀ back then: art donaldson, retired former tennis player, a absolutely legend for his time, so acclaimed in his good guy image... if they only knew his little secret, the little secret he had with his daughter’s best friend.

WORD COUNT⠀♡⠀ 2.5k⠀ ─⠀⠀ CONTAINS⠀♡⠀dilf!art x young!reader. smut content. agegap ꒰ 25 · 45 ꒱ hard & strong language. cheating. slightly mentions of god. blowjob. dirty talk. slightly size kink.⠀+ 18, minors who interact with this will be blocked.⠀⠀⠀⸜ ꒰ ˃ ᵕ ˂ ꒱ ⸝ ೂ

two years ago. fourth semester of college, you had already lost count of how many times you had been stressed, cried, gotten angry and felt your family putting more and more weight on your shoulders. summer break at home were hell, the worst kind, as if your dad were the devil in the flesh.

’cause of this, like an angel, your roommate—and best friend—suggested that you shouldn’t go to your house, but to hers. lily felt lonely all summer, most of the time, not that her parents weren’t around, they just had a few (many) other things to do. you were always there for her, so she felt like she should do the same for you this summer.

bad idea, the worst idea that could’ve crossed her mind.

it wasn’t as if art and tashi’s marriage was still on good terms, quite the opposite, they only stayed together ’cause it seemed too late to waste their energy on a divorce. almost fifty years old now, what could they do?

that’s why they ran away from each other all the time, just like they were a couple in front of the cameras, they didn’t even sleep in the same room at home anymore. everything still seemed so normal to them, lily never even cared about it, almost as if she was trying to be completely oblivious.

this got worse when art learned that you liked tennis, that you had already watched many of his matches and in a way, you had an admiration that he had never really seen so closely. he was dazzled, pretending he didn’t mind—though he was paying attention to every step you took. twenty years younger than him, was he freaking out? yeah, he was.

you were already an adult enough, sure, but you were still too young for him... and, shit, you were also his daughter’s best friend, what the fuck was he thinking when he imagined you in his bed? art had dealt with everything he needed to deal with... now he had to deal with you too.

and he knew exactly how to deal with you.

“i saw you playin’ tennis with lily,” yeah, right, you had seen him watching you and his daughter play tennis on the court, nothing much, just having fun—you had noticed that he, somehow, saw it all as a competition. “you’re pretty good, why didn’t you pursue a career?”

1am, you were staring at him while sitting on the bed, not understanding exactly why he was starting a conversation right now, especially shirtless. “ahn, well... it’s just that i wasn’t that interested in tennis to the point of... you know, wantin’ a career.” you could see the surprise in his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

“damn... i get why you and lily got along.” he gave a low, dry laugh, just remembering the thousands of times he and tashi had tried to make lily follow in their footsteps, which she had always refused—so they had just accepted it and forgotten about it. “anyway, do you need something? are you feelin’ comfortable here?”

“yeah, thank you...” you nodded in agreement, giving him a weak smile, trying to be polite even though you were still getting used to their whole family dynamic. “sorry if i’m being intrusive, but what are you doing up, mr. donaldson? i’m just curious.”

a white-toothed smile appeared on art’s face when he heard the way you called him, it made him feel old, definitely, but it also warmed something inside him. “nothing, i think i’m just havin’ trouble sleeping... everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

then, he sighed, looking around. the house was quiet, he knew how fast his wife and daughter slept, he also used to sleep fast a few months ago. but, now his mind was clouded by no-good thoughts, and god, he wanted to get rid of it, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to until he acted on the root of the problem.

“you don’t look sleepy at all either...” he grumbled. “wanna keep me company? i made coffee.” you could even refuse, but there was no way, he was looking at you like a sad, abandoned puppy, not like a forty-five year old man should.

you got up and followed him downstairs, the lights in the whole house were off, except for the one in the kitchen—making the whole place a little melancholic, kinda dark, way too quiet. art poured a cup of coffee for you, then one for himself, trying to hide how much he was watching every little expression you made.

he wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful in those pajamas, and that, maybe, you’d look better without them. but, he just swallowed hard, sipping his coffee in silence. “what are you lookin’ at?” his cup tapped lightly against the marble counter, he was smiling again, with a spark of something you couldn’t quite identify. “i like walkin’ around here shirtless, i hope you don’t mind... look all you want.”

your eyes narrowed a little, a confused laugh escaping you, was he really saying what you heard or was it just in your head? your best friend’s dad... so blatantly telling you that you could look at his bare chest all you wanted. “mr. donaldson, i...” he coughed before you could continue your sentence which he could almost imagine what it’d be.

“no mr. donaldson me, i’m not that old... just call me art, please?” cursed was the time lily invited you to spend the summer break at her house—when you weren’t exactly aware of how tempting her dad could be when he wanted and needed something. “so, come on, pretty princess, let’s be honest... you’re not just lookin’ for the sake of it, are you?”

you sighed heavily, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes as he stopped beside you, taking the coffee cup from your hand. dear god, you thought, noticing the way he leaned against the counter, looking you up and down. “i’m listenin’ to whatever you wanna tell me.” art whispered, so close to your face you could almost feel the heat of his body.

“your wife’s sleeping upstairs, art.” you didn’t really know what to say, your brain was almost short-circuiting with the implication of his words. your heart was racing just thinking about the danger of simply kissing a married man with his wife and daughter sleeping upstairs.

his only reaction was to chuckle softly, now leaning more against you as one of his large hands gently caressed your shoulder. “and so was i when she cheated on me,” he clicked his tongue. “it’s not a revenge, actually, i don’t care about it. but if you do, we can just act like this never happened.”

a little weird, he was giving you the chance to walk away, though he already knew internally that you wouldn’t leave and he was fuckin’ right, you didn’t move a single muscle to be away from him. “i don’t know if i believe you.”

“so let me show you why you should believe me...” art’s hand on your shoulder pulled you closer to him, until your chest was pressed against his bare one, your eyes just in front of his lips like a silent invitation. “desire cannot be faked, sweetheart... i can’t pretend, and neither can you.”

his hand came up, grabbing the back of your neck before crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that was as messy as hot—it was the dirtiest mistake you could ever make, but it felt so right and so good that you almost wanted to pray as you kissed him. he was the worst of men, so maybe you were the worst of women.

art moaned against your lips, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip before his large hand ran down your back. “can you be quiet for me? we don’t wanna wake anyone up... yeah?” his breath was warm in your ear, his lips brushing against your neck before he gave you another one of his smiles that you now understood what they meant.

too late to regret anything, he had already placed you on the counter, pushing the coffee maker as if he couldn’t care less about that bad coffee he had made earlier. he was holding your chin, kissing your lips with fervor and messiness, like he could barely process where your lips actually were ’cause he just wanted to kiss you so badly.

it was too risky to do much, but art wasn’t thinking, neither were you—the rush was taking over, more than it should’ve, so you pushed him back. but, this wasn’t you giving up, no, not at all, you pulled him with you to the other side of the counter, pushing him against it, hands running down his bare chest, stopping at the hem of his pants, wanting to see if this was really real or just a bluff from that old man.

his breath caught in his throat as he leaned back a little, hands braced on the edge of the counter behind him as he enjoyed the sight of you getting down on your knees in front of him. as if he were a god waiting for your prayer, your god.

art felt like he could come just from this holy sight, but he held back, running his tongue over his slightly swollen lower lip, reddish after what you did to it.

you pulled down his sweatpants like he was just another one on your list and he was obsessed with every second of it, he had forgotten what it was like to want something as much as he wanted you. “you’re the one who’s gonna need to keep quiet...” you teased him, tracing the line of his bulge, making him feel his legs weaken.

your mouth was on him in minutes, knees on the carpet, art’s knuckles were turning white from the way he held himself against the counter—gasping every time your hand squeezed his balls and made him see stars. his cock was throbbing inside your mouth, desperately begging for release. he wouldn’t last long, not when his desire was screaming inside him.

“mhnm... fuck... where did you learn that?” opening his mouth was enough for a low moan to escape him, his blue eyes watching intently the way he pumped into your mouth. “you’re being so good to me, pretty... princess...” he began to stroke your hair, letting you take him deeper and deeper.

art wasn’t a small man and he was quite proud of his size, not that many women had access to that, but he liked to see your cute little face struggling not to choke—though he was thrusting his hips forward just to make you feel him all the way to the roof of your mouth. “no, no... no choking... take me like a good little girl, yeah? you can do it.” he gasped, rolling his eyes, the hand in your hair going to your cheek.

he could see your effort to please him and, fuck, that was the most arousing thing he had seen in months.

you were the worst friend and guest in the whole world, but that didn’t matter now that your host felt so good fucking your mouth like you were his fleshlight—he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t the best blowjob he’d ever received, maybe it could also be his need speaking louder.

art was getting closer and closer to the edge, it wasn’t hard to notice that, he had been without the right incentive for a while, you were making him look like an idiot, but he couldn’t take it anymore when you were what he needed, you didn’t even need to touch him that much to make him go all the way.

“slow down... or i’ll come...” he said between sighs, as if you weren’t already so invested in this that you’d actually listen to him, he didn’t know you well enough yet to know how you could be. “shit... why... why are you going faster...?”

what was the fun in giving an older man a blowjob if you couldn’t make him whimper for you while you swallowed his whole cock?

“keep whimpering or i’ll stop.” you said, pulling your mouth away from his reddish length for just a measly second, just so he could see that string of saliva that connected you to him. art felt pathetic, just like he had twenty years ago and he wanted more of that guilty youth you made him feel.

he might not obey you, but he did the opposite, just nodding his head as he positioned his hips forward again, almost begging you to make him come down your throat. “don’t stop, please... make me come...” he grumbled, nibbling on his bottom lip, waiting for you.

he had to cover his mouth with his wrist when you went back to sucking him, so hard and good that he’d barely be able to stand if the counter wasn’t behind him. even so, you could hear his whimpers, begging for you, for your mouth, for your tongue. “your mouth... fuck, it’s so good... i need it everyday...”

you could see when his breathing started to get more labored, his eyes opening with difficulty, trying to stay calm even with the sensation completely dominating him. then, he was coming undone on your tongue, thick jets of hot seed hitting your throat as he used both hands to hold your head in place.

“swallow it all, every drop.” he said with a low growl, forcing you to take every drop of what he was offering you until it was empty and softened outside your mouth. “jesus christ, you made me a mess...” a chuckle escaped him as he felt lighter.

you got up from the floor when he offered you a hand after the heated moment between you, watching you with a loving gaze—he didn’t even understand why, but he was looking at you like that without noticing. “can i sleep now, mr. donaldson?” you called him that again just for the teasing, making him roll his eyes.

“stop it... and yeah, you can, but...” he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his bare chest after pulling his sweatpants up again. “only if you promise to do it again tomorrow.”

“a promise, huh? okay, that’s a promise then.” too bad for you, you didn’t know this would haunt you two years later.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you'll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡