#dilf!Art at a PTA meeting???

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle a.d.

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader prompt: Imagine being that parent who always brings baked goods to the PTA meetings and generally getting along with everyone really well. But for some reason Art Donaldson says something that rubs you the wrong way one night. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, adults acting like horny teenagers, flashbacks, not proofread word count: 2.4K a/n: I wrote this in one sitting just from seeing this post 🤭

Part ii, part iii

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

He notices he’s offended you by the way you stop talking directly to him, looking everywhere but him. Smiling at everyone but him. You’re giving your undivided attention to anyone who speaks but when he opens his mouth you seem much more interested in your nails.

Art has known you since he's been coming to these meetings. He knows that you offer a polite smile to everyone, but he'd grown used to the small smiles you'd give him. The secret grins and the sarcastic eye rolls you shared with him when Nancy got a bit too controlling or when Dan overshared about his marriage.

You would playfully nudge his elbow when Cynthia inevitably brought up her small knitting business. You’d been initially interested, always loving a good sweater, until you found out the only things she knit were small replicas of pets.

You would discreetly play tic tac toe or hangman on a napkin while the more aggressive moms argued about where to host the next school event, or when the guest speaker for the night would drone on and on.

Once, you baked snickerdoodle cookies and Art ate three of them in one sitting, then asked to take some home for “Lily.” So, you made sure to bake snickerdoodle cookies almost every time you brought snacks. Everyone knew the circular red tin you’d bring was Art’s.

The two of you didn’t really talk outside of the PTA, but Art considered you his friend at these things.

Which is why he should've known not to bring up your recently divorced ex-husband during the meeting. He’d simply been trying to make sure the headcount for this year’s Fall Fest committee was right after Nancy had thrusted the clipboard into his hands. He was tasked with making sure everyone on the list was still showing up. When Art asked you if your husband would still be attending, you went silent, your lips tensing up like you’d tasted something sour.

“Are you really asking me that right now?”

Art stammered. “I just wasn’t sure…”

You scoffed at him disbelieving.

“Well when he finally gets his head out of that whore’s ass then maybe he’ll be able to let you know.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Before he hands the clipboard back, he makes sure to draw a line through your ex-husband’s name.

Art tries to apologize after the meeting is over. Insisting on walking you to your car and carrying your dessert containers back for you. His self deprecating little smile makes you roll your eyes, but you turn for him to follow you anyway. You silently lead the way to your car keeping a couple steps ahead of him. Despite his attempts to look away, Art’s eyes stay glued to the sway of your hips the whole way.

Once you pop the trunk and gesture for him to place the containers down, you finally look him in the eyes for the first time since he’d pissed you off. Art shoves his hands in his pockets, telling you he’s really sorry for what he said. That he wasn’t thinking. He wants to make it up to you.

You purse your lips, look at the way his eyes seem hopeful yet a little too pleading for an offense so small. You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features before eventually telling him that “it’s fine,” and that you forgive him. He seems to visibly relax at this and you can’t help wondering why he would be so hung up on your forgiveness. After all, it was really an overreaction on your part.

You tell him as much and reassure him that you don’t need anything, he doesn’t need to make it up to you. He grabs your hand then, insisting that he wants to.

Art has always been this way, you think, all placating and overly apologetic when he thinks he’s done something wrong. You’d chalked it up to the media training you know he must’ve received. Being agreeable probably made his PR manager’s job ten times easier. Not that you didn’t believe he was genuinely a kind person, but you knew even Art might be overcompensating every now and then.

You’d seen the way he could be snarky without remorse before. The two of you would basically laugh about it later. You’d also seen how he never hid the way his eyes would linger on your cleavage. The way he’d give you a small, bashful smile when you’d catch him, his smirk only growing wider the more you blushed.

Art Donaldson could be sneaky.

ᯓ

He’d never been ashamed about being touchy with you. Placing a warm hand on your arm or back when greeting one another, letting his fingers skim your hand on the table next to his while he listened to speakers. The touching seemed innocent enough until one night when he’d walked you to your car after the two of you had stayed longer. You had been distracted during the meeting.

Art stayed and listened as you told him about your husband and how he’d come home late after you planned a romantic evening for the two of you the night before. You made sure your son was at your parents’ house, made his favorite meal, and lit candles around the house. The two of you had decided to schedule date nights per your therapist’s suggestion. When 1 am rolled around, and your husband had returned none of your calls, you scraped the food into tupperware containers and got ready for bed. He came home with apologies and excuses about getting caught up in the office. He had already eaten, and he smelled of a perfume you didn’t own but had grown to recognize.

That night, you told Art that you were sure your husband was cheating on you. He told you that he understood how you felt. You didn’t believe him. Tashi was perfect.

After your tears had dried, and Art managed to pull a few laughs out of you, the both of you decided it was time to call it a night. You moved to give Art a casual hug, but he wrapped his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t help but melt into it, burying your face in his chest. You remembered him smelling warm, like amber.

Art had rubbed your back as he held you, whispered that he was sorry that your husband was a dumbass. You huffed out a laugh, pulling away to look at him. He’d brought his hand up to your cheek, his other hand on the small of your back. You smiled at him through your eyelashes before letting your head drop down with a sigh.

Your cheeks burned as you took in how your legs were tangled with his. Art had tilted his head to get a better look at you again, but you’d stuck to hiding your face against his chest.

He huffed and let his chin fall to your shoulder. You still refused to look his way, turning to watch some trees. You felt both his hands on your back now.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered.

“That we said we should go home like 5 min ago.” His hands traveled lower. “You?” You asked shakily. You could feel his breath warm against your neck.

“That I might not be any better than your husband.”

Your eyes widened. Art’s palms firmly cupped your ass. In contrast, his lips were pressed gently to the skin of your neck.

“Art!” Your hands flew to his hair.

He laughed into your neck.

You slapped his arm, but when his eyes met yours and his lips were mere inches away from yours, you let your eyes flutter shut.

His breath fanned your lips. He smelled like snickerdoodle cookie.

Then, his phone rang.

Art had pulled away from you, turning around to answer the call. You could tell it was Tashi. He’d been honest, telling her that he’d stayed late talking to you. At the mention of your name, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Tashi says hi.”

ᯓ

The two of you never brought up the almost kiss again, but you knew Art hadn’t been sorry. The next time he saw your husband, he’d smirked and told him how lucky he was to have such a great wife. Your husband, ever the narcissist, soaked it all in, pulling you in by the waist, showing you off like a shiny toy. When he turned away, Art had winked at you.

ᯓ

So, you know that Art is either laying it on thick or feels extremely remorseful about reminding you of your cheating ex-husband.

When he grabs your hand, insisting on finding some way to make it up to you, you see a look of desperation in his eyes that looks new.

Your eyes drop to where his large hand covers your own, then they travel up his toned arm until you find his face, flitting between his eyes and his lips. And for some reason, you’re leaning in. Maybe it’s your way of reassuring him that you guys are good. Either way, he’s not moving back. You’re gripping his forearm with your free hand and suddenly your lips are on his.

You’re not sure if it was his tongue or yours that first went seeking out the other, but now you two are sharing sloppy kisses on the empty school parking lot.

When his left palm presses into your cheek and you feel that cold metal band sting your skin, you pull away with a gasp, remembering where you are, who he is, and that he has a damn wedding ring on. This is Art. PTA Art. You know his wife, for god’s sake. You’ve hosted play dates between their daughter and your son. You carpool with them. You curse and back away from him.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have...”

Art shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He’s looking at you with those damn eyes again. Like he’ll break if you say the wrong thing.

“I—we, we shouldn’t have done that, Art.”

He shakes his head again. Your palm comes up to hold him back, but it doesn’t work as he simply grabs ahold of the hand on his chest and presses himself against you more. His forehead comes down to lean on yours. His eyes closed.

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. “I want you.”

“But you’re married Art…”

“I want you.” He repeats. “I’ve wanted you…for awhile now.”

And though you already know this, it still shocks you that he’s actually saying it now. Before you have time to register it, he’s back on you and you don’t know if it’s because you’re afraid to break him or if you’ve just always been this selfish, but you let him press you against the trunk of your car. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, let his big hands knead the flesh of your hips and ass. Let him lick and nip at your neck, nibble on your earlobe.

You let Art push you into the backseat of your car. You let him settle between your legs, guiding his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He’s pressing his hips into yours rocking against you as he pushes your top up. Art’s hands frantically work at your bra, impatiently bending the wire in the process of taking it off. You gasp at his eagerness but can’t say anything as he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple making you arch your back up off the leather seats. His hands are gripping your thighs and shoving your skirt up when he releases your nipple with a pop.

He’s up long enough to tear his shirt off and for your equally impatient hands to reach for his pants. His shorts are barely past his balls before he’s back on you. Kissing all over your lips, jaw, neck. Art groans when his fingers find their way to your soaked underwear, rubbing his thumb from your slit to your clit through the fabric. You whine and rock your hips into each movement. You pant into his open mouth as he pulls them to the side, letting the air hit your bare cunt. He dips his thumb into your entrance then drags it up to sloppily circle your clit.

You’re moaning loudly into his mouth, begging him for more. Art smiles against your lips as he takes himself in his hand. He lets his head sweetly kiss your sticky clit, and he asks if you want him to put it in.

You nod eagerly.

"Yeah?" He grunts, tapping his head against you in a taunting manner.

You nod again and let him press against your opening.

Art covers your mouth with his when he finally pushes into you, stifling both of your moans. He gets his arms around your waist, holding you as he rocks into your pussy. You’re whimpering and squeezing around him like you haven’t had dick in years, and Art thinks he might pass out when you start bucking up into him and begging him to fuck you.

He doesn’t even care that he won’t last long. He can’t deny you. So, he wraps your thighs tighter around his waist and pushes himself forward. Your mouth falls open as Art slides out and pushes back into you with a grunt. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at the short strands. You mouth at his jaw as his thighs slap against you.

Art buries his head into your neck as he frantically fucks into your tight hole, and he’s whining that he’s close. His fingers that have been playing with your clit are slippery with your juices and you clench your thighs, nodding with him in agreement.

You end up letting Art Donaldson cum inside you. You let him rub your clit until you orgasm around his dick that’s still buried in you.

You let him help you redress. He’d winced when he saw the mess he made of you between your legs. You ignore the way you can tell he wants to say sorry.

Once you’re both dressed and you’re standing against your car with wobbly legs, Art tells you that he still wants to make it up to you.

You roll your eyes.

“Good night, Art.” You get into the driver’s seat.

“I’m serious.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle. You look back at him and his pleading eyes and his pathetic yet charming smile.

“Your wife has my number.”

And then, you shut the door.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: reader reminds me of Anna Kendrick’s character in A Simple Favor, sweet but also kinda toxic

thanks for inspiring this @artdcnaldson <3

[ghostlywhiskey]

Dad!Price brain rot is real!!! All I could think about today is him carrying the babies in a chest carrier, one hand cradled protectively over their little heads, murmuring to them when they start to fuss and bouncing a little to soothe them, kissing the tops of their heads and sniffing in that baby scent, stroking the bottoms of their soft little baby feet

Price is the ultimate dilf and all the other moms are definitely jealous about hot handsome and attentive he is to you and your babies ♥️

this has officially sent me into a spiral i hope you know that? also the chest carrier PLEASE the way he definitely has this brand - honestly all the guys have it. price puts them on it.

but omg - you and price are at the point where you have two kids - the oldest being around 5 and the youngest only five months. when it comes to school related things, that was your area of expertise. PTA meetings, volunteering to be one of the class moms, etc. - you name it, you were involved. so, while most of the moms knew you, they knew little to nothing about your husband.

and when the holiday concert and art show comes around, price is back from deployment and in attendance. the chest carrier strapped on while the newborn rests their cheek on price's chest, little hands fisting to hold onto his dress shirt. while he walks around looking for his oldest sons art work on display, he can feel the eyes of a group of moms staring at him.

hand brushing back the small amount of hair on the baby's head, he places a kiss on the top. "we're like animals in a zoo exhibit," price mumbles to the baby, who lifts their head and looking around in curiosity despite not understanding price's words. "lookin for mommy? me too." sighing, his hands moving to give the baby's tiny legs a little squeeze.

the sound of heels approaching price only alert him when a familiar hand grabs his bicep gently, causing him to turn to face you. "thank god it's you," price murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "i don't like feelin' like a single dad."

"sorry, mini you was having a hard time with his tie and then i got held up talking with his teacher." you hand reaching for the baby's cheek, giving it a little pinch that causes him to smile at you. "hi, my angel." your baby voice slipping out as you speak to the child, price watching as you interact with him.

his hand reaching to cup your cheek, you glance up at him. "you're fuc-" price clearing his throat to stop himself from cursing with the baby this close to him. "perfect. you're perfect." he restates himself, leaning down to brush his lips against yours before giving you a kiss.

giggling at his attempt to stop himself from cursing, you kiss him back before pulling back. "i recognize that look," you tease, reaching to grab his wrist and gently pulling it away from your face. "that's what got you two sons."

price hums in agreement, grinning down at you. "no idea what you're talking about. i'm just making sure those vultures know i'm not a single dad." he laughs, and you glance over at the moms. the three women give you immediate smiles, and you return the same along with a small wave before looking back at price.

[artdcnaldson]

dilf art and stepmom!reader show up to the pta meeting like it’s a court order

Walking in like you’re the plaintiffs on judge judy.

It gets to the section where people raise concerns and you KNOW Art’s hand goes straight up to bitch about people not fucking signing up for the bake sale (of course they’re not. He’s running it this year and he’s a fucking force. All homemade, no store bought, presentation matters). It’s for the children, after all!!!

[1252291]

𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖓

these are in alphabetical order according to character!

all: nsfw videos.

━━ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓

» feline | 3K | warnings: dubious consent, reader is stuck.

you thought that plugging in your laptop would be less of a hassle if you didn't move the cat tree that belongs to your roommate. you, however, got stuck. but thank god your roommate comes home, right?

━━ 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

* note that Bertholdt is 18+ in every single fic.

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bertholdt returns from paradis. life seems miserable when there's been nothing but the pending war. in the months leading up to the warriors joining the war, he meets reader.

» (ring) hello? | 2.8K | warnings: masturbation, dildo, dirty talk.

bertholdt meets you online a year ago. in order to celebrate the first time you started talking, and being in a long distance relationship with him, he sends you a gift in the mail.

» good boy | 2.2K | warnings: anal (male), pegging.

he's always had a thing for being a good boy, and when you propose topping him, he's more than happy to oblige.

» the art of thigh fucking | 2.8K | warnings: somnophilia

you teased bertholdt the entire time before you went to sleep with the intention of having him fuck you while you were asleep. bertholdt can't help but oblige

» forbidden | 1.3K | warnings: step-cest, cunnilingus/nose riding. use of calling themselves, & each other big brother & little sister.

anything forbidden, he guessed, probably always tasted the sweetest. 

blurbs (short, almost headcanons)

» pillow humping » punishing reader

━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

» ' prince ' connie | 2.3K | warnings: prince albert piercing.

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━━ 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

» online | 3k | warnings: slight breeding kink, daddy kink, dubcon.

you receive a random add on snapchat. after getting no answer of who it is, you forget about it happening until they send you a video that catches your attention

» offline | 5.6k | warnings: slight breeding kink, daddy kink, dubcon, filming, no protection, cunnilingus, fingering, slight choking

sequel to online. after you received a random add on snapchat a few months back, you started messaging them regularly, only to find out that EY199's a lot closer than you both originally thought.

blurbs (short, almost headcanons)

» thigh fucking » thigh riding

━━ 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

blurbs (short, almost headcanons)

» grabbing his gear by accident (sfw) » modern!erwin - throat fucking

━━ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍

» making up for lost time | 1.4K | warnings: breeding kink

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» he looks like you | 700 | warnings: non descriptive childbirth (sfw)

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» touch our rush | 1.9K | warnings: oral sex, male receiving.

Sometimes it’s hard to get Jean into this position. One where he’ll willingly take what you give him and not try to give anything immediately in return

» pta | 3.9K | warnings: exhibitionalism, dilf jean,

he knew he shouldn't have been attracted to you so quickly after his divorce, but the marriage had been over for years, and you had been the first good thing that happened to him in a long time. plus, pta meetings are boring anyways.

blurbs (short, almost headcanons)

» breeding kink (nsfw) » grabbing his gear by accident (sfw) » if you have depression (sfw)

━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

» falling in love | 3.8K | warnings: vomiting, death, a bit of smut at end

part one of three in a series –> How you and Levi come to meet, then fall in love.

» paperwork | 2.7K | warnings: thigh riding

part two of three in a series. can be read as a stand-alone though -> You have no idea how Levi managed to get you roped into doing paperwork with him, but now that you're there, you decide to take more of a break.

» stay forever | 6K | warnings: angst

part three of three in a series -> It's hard for Levi to accept that he's deserving of love.

» give and take. or take and take | 2.7K | warnings: cunnilingus & sex

He dragged the taste up to your clit, where he lapped over the sensitive bud a few times. Levi reached up, resting one of his hands against your abdomen to press you back into the bed, keeping your hips from rolling up to meet his mouth.

blurbs (short, almost headcanons)

» his tea shop

━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐙𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒

» exhibition plans | 1.4K | warnings: cock warming, exhibitionism, no protection.

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» grabbing his gear by accident (sfw)

━━ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃

» liars | 3.4K | warnings: cunnilingus & sex

You're a part of the warriors. You really don't get along with the jaw titan though, or at least, that's what everybody thinks on the surface level.

━━ 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

» taking care | 2.9K | warnings: pegging.

Usually, he takes care of you. But you wanted to take care of him for once.

» pretty girl | 2.1K | warnings: age gap, dilf!reiner, consensual sex, cream pie, slight exhibitionism, use of being called pretty girl.

YOU’RE his perfect little secret. or: the one where you’re running around with Reiner behind everybody’s backs, and he finally fucks you after watching you the entire night.

blurbs (short, almost headcanons)

» if you have depression (sfw) » working out reiner's scowl (sfw) » construction worker reiner » breeding kink thirst

━━ 𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

» warrior | 2.9K | warnings: power imbalance, spit, daddy kink

Zeke gets more out of one of the warrior candidates than originally planned for. You're in competition with Colt for the beast.

[artdcnaldson]

idk why im obsessed with cheater!art but im thinking about dilf! art + teacher reader.. tashi double books herself so art has to go to back to school night by himself…. he pulls you aside afterwards to introduce himself and slightly overwhelm you with a list of concerned dad questions. it’s very sweet and he’s so tall and handsome and he smells so good and the two of you end up chit chatting for a good while and you would never flirt with a parent especially NOT one with a wedding ring on his finger because that is absolutely unprofessional but you are nice and smiley and patient (and young) and he shakes your hand with his big ass paw at the end :O

and then huh first quarter report card conferences roll around and he’s there by himself again… interesting… and oh is that him volunteering to chaperone field trips? he’s joining the PTA? he’s asking to have private meetings about his daughter’s grades? he’s showing up to your classroom afterschool?

Oouuuhhhhggghhhh

You’re trying so hard to keep things totally professional!! But he’s volunteering to help you out, showing up early to help set up parties and staying late to help plan field trips and he’s donating for every student to get money to spend at the book fair, and he’s buying you supplies when he notices your stash of Expo markers or construction paper is low. He always notices, he’s always so perceptive about what you need. He’s retired. He wants to help and he has the time now.

For the second grade trip to the zoo, he’s the first to sign up to help. He offers you his personal phone number so you can text him to coordinate whatever you need. He offers to cater sandwiches and fruit for the students, you insist he doesn’t have to, but he wants to! He wants his girls (he meant girl, obviously. One girl. Lily Donaldson) taken care of!

Maybe he is the forefront of your fantasies! Maybe you wish he’d just snap and kiss you or fuck your over your stupid, cluttered desk during one of the many parent-teacher conferences he requests. You barely even talk about Lily— she’s brilliant, she’s already ahead of the curve, she’s excelling. There’s no need, and yet—

It’s after graduation that he approaches you, as you’re tidying up your desk to take most of your things home for the year. That’s it. Some other lucky teacher would get Art next year, and he’d obsess over Lily with them. It was bittersweet, to see her move forward but still wish she could just stay in your class.

But then there’s Art, standing in the doorway. Tashi took Lily to the car, but he wants to thank you personally. It’s a remarkably tame kiss— a slow press of his lips against yours, the feel of his hands against your body.

And he and Tashi might be looking for a private tutor for Lily moving forward. If you’d be interested. He smiles and leaves, and you know you shouldn’t take that tutoring gig, you don’t want to fuck up his family… but you do want him.

[jess248]

i would sign up to this pta

Snickerdoodle a.d.

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader prompt: Imagine being that parent who always brings baked goods to the PTA meetings and generally getting along with everyone really well. But for some reason Art Donaldson says something that rubs you the wrong way one night. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, adults acting like horny teenagers, flashbacks, not proofread word count: 2.4K a/n: I wrote this in one sitting just from seeing this post 🤭

Part ii here

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

He notices he’s offended you by the way you stop talking directly to him, looking everywhere but him. Smiling at everyone but him. You’re giving your undivided attention to anyone who speaks but when he opens his mouth you seem much more interested in your nails.

Art has known you since he's been coming to these meetings. He knows that you offer a polite smile to everyone, but he'd grown used to the small smiles you'd give him. The secret grins and the sarcastic eye rolls you shared with him when Nancy got a bit too controlling or when Dan overshared about his marriage.

You would playfully nudge his elbow when Cynthia inevitably brought up her small knitting business. You’d been initially interested, always loving a good sweater, until you found out the only things she knit were small replicas of pets.

You would discreetly play tic tac toe or hangman on a napkin while the more aggressive moms argued about where to host the next school event, or when the guest speaker for the night would drone on and on.

Once, you baked snickerdoodle cookies and Art ate three of them in one sitting, then asked to take some home for “Lily.” So, you made sure to bake snickerdoodle cookies almost every time you brought snacks. Everyone knew the circular red tin you’d bring was Art’s.

The two of you didn’t really talk outside of the PTA, but Art considered you his friend at these things.

Which is why he should've known not to bring up your recently divorced ex-husband during the meeting. He’d simply been trying to make sure the headcount for this year’s Fall Fest committee was right after Nancy had thrusted the clipboard into his hands. He was tasked with making sure everyone on the list was still showing up. When Art asked you if your husband would still be attending, you went silent, your lips tensing up like you’d tasted something sour.

“Are you really asking me that right now?”

Art stammered. “I just wasn’t sure…”

You scoffed at him disbelieving.

“Well when he finally gets his head out of that whore’s ass then maybe he’ll be able to let you know.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Before he hands the clipboard back, he makes sure to draw a line through your ex-husband’s name.

Art tries to apologize after the meeting is over. Insisting on walking you to your car and carrying your dessert containers back for you. His self deprecating little smile makes you roll your eyes, but you turn for him to follow you anyway. You silently lead the way to your car keeping a couple steps ahead of him. Despite his attempts to look away, Art’s eyes stay glued to the sway of your hips the whole way.

Once you pop the trunk and gesture for him to place the containers down, you finally look him in the eyes for the first time since he’d pissed you off. Art shoves his hands in his pockets, telling you he’s really sorry for what he said. That he wasn’t thinking. He wants to make it up to you.

You purse your lips, look at the way his eyes seem hopeful yet a little too pleading for an offense so small. You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features before eventually telling him that “it’s fine,” and that you forgive him. He seems to visibly relax at this and you can’t help wondering why he would be so hung up on your forgiveness. After all, it was really an overreaction on your part.

You tell him as much and reassure him that you don’t need anything, he doesn’t need to make it up to you. He grabs your hand then, insisting that he wants to.

Art has always been this way, you think, all placating and overly apologetic when he thinks he’s done something wrong. You’d chalked it up to the media training you know he must’ve received. Being agreeable probably made his PR manager’s job ten times easier. Not that you didn’t believe he was genuinely a kind person, but you knew even Art might be overcompensating every now and then.

You’d seen the way he could be snarky without remorse before. The two of you would basically laugh about it later. You’d also seen how he never hid the way his eyes would linger on your cleavage. The way he’d give you a small, bashful smile when you’d catch him, his smirk only growing wider the more you blushed.

Art Donaldson could be sneaky.

ᯓ

He’d never been ashamed about being touchy with you. Placing a warm hand on your arm or back when greeting one another, letting his fingers skim your hand on the table next to his while he listened to speakers. The touching seemed innocent enough until one night when he’d walked you to your car after the two of you had stayed longer. You had been distracted during the meeting.

Art stayed and listened as you told him about your husband and how he’d come home late after you planned a romantic evening for the two of you the night before. You made sure your son was at your parents’ house, made his favorite meal, and lit candles around the house. The two of you had decided to schedule date nights per your therapist’s suggestion. When 1 am rolled around, and your husband had returned none of your calls, you scraped the food into tupperware containers and got ready for bed. He came home with apologies and excuses about getting caught up in the office. He had already eaten, and he smelled of a perfume you didn’t own but had grown to recognize.

That night, you told Art that you were sure your husband was cheating on you. He told you that he understood how you felt. You didn’t believe him. Tashi was perfect.

After your tears had dried, and Art managed to pull a few laughs out of you, the both of you decided it was time to call it a night. You moved to give Art a casual hug, but he wrapped his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t help but melt into it, burying your face in his chest. You remembered him smelling warm, like amber.

Art had rubbed your back as he held you, whispered that he was sorry that your husband was a dumbass. You huffed out a laugh, pulling away to look at him. He’d brought his hand up to your cheek, his other hand on the small of your back. You smiled at him through your eyelashes before letting your head drop down with a sigh.

Your cheeks burned as you took in how your legs were tangled with his. Art had tilted his head to get a better look at you again, but you’d stuck to hiding your face against his chest.

He huffed and let his chin fall to your shoulder. You still refused to look his way, turning to watch some trees. You felt both his hands on your back now.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered.

“That we said we should go home like 5 min ago.” His hands traveled lower. “You?” You asked shakily. You could feel his breath warm against your neck.

“That I might not be any better than your husband.”

Your eyes widened. Art’s palms firmly cupped your ass. In contrast, his lips were pressed gently to the skin of your neck.

“Art!” Your hands flew to his hair.

He laughed into your neck.

You slapped his arm, but when his eyes met yours and his lips were mere inches away from yours, you let your eyes flutter shut.

His breath fanned your lips. He smelled like snickerdoodle cookie.

Then, his phone rang.

Art had pulled away from you, turning around to answer the call. You could tell it was Tashi. He’d been honest, telling her that he’d stayed late talking to you. At the mention of your name, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Tashi says hi.”

ᯓ

The two of you never brought up the almost kiss again, but you knew Art hadn’t been sorry. The next time he saw your husband, he’d smirked and told him how lucky he was to have such a great wife. Your husband, ever the narcissist, soaked it all in, pulling you in by the waist, showing you off like a shiny toy. When he turned away, Art had winked at you.

ᯓ

So, you know that Art is either laying it on thick or feels extremely remorseful about reminding you of your cheating ex-husband.

When he grabs your hand, insisting on finding some way to make it up to you, you see a look of desperation in his eyes that looks new.

Your eyes drop to where his large hand covers your own, then they travel up his toned arm until you find his face, flitting between his eyes and his lips. And for some reason, you’re leaning in. Maybe it’s your way of reassuring him that you guys are good. Either way, he’s not moving back. You’re gripping his forearm with your free hand and suddenly your lips are on his.

You’re not sure if it was his tongue or yours that first went seeking out the other, but now you two are sharing sloppy kisses on the empty school parking lot.

When his left palm presses into your cheek and you feel that cold metal band sting your skin, you pull away with a gasp, remembering where you are, who he is, and that he has a damn wedding ring on. This is Art. PTA Art. You know his wife, for god’s sake. You’ve hosted play dates between their daughter and your son. You carpool with them. You curse and back away from him.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have...”

Art shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He’s looking at you with those damn eyes again. Like he’ll break if you say the wrong thing.

“I—we, we shouldn’t have done that, Art.”

He shakes his head again. Your palm comes up to hold him back, but it doesn’t work as he simply grabs ahold of the hand on his chest and presses himself against you more. His forehead comes down to lean on yours. His eyes closed.

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. “I want you.”

“But you’re married Art…”

“I want you.” He repeats. “I’ve wanted you…for awhile now.”

And though you already know this, it still shocks you that he’s actually saying it now. Before you have time to register it, he’s back on you and you don’t know if it’s because you’re afraid to break him or if you’ve just always been this selfish, but you let him press you against the trunk of your car. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, let his big hands knead the flesh of your hips and ass. Let him lick and nip at your neck, nibble on your earlobe.

You let Art push you into the backseat of your car. You let him settle between your legs, guiding his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He’s pressing his hips into yours rocking against you as he pushes your top up. Art’s hands frantically work at your bra, impatiently bending the wire in the process of taking it off. You gasp at his eagerness but can’t say anything as he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple making you arch your back up off the leather seats. His hands are gripping your thighs and shoving your skirt up when he releases your nipple with a pop.

He’s up long enough to tear his shirt off and for your equally impatient hands to reach for his pants. His shorts are barely past his balls before he’s back on you. Kissing all over your lips, jaw, neck. Art groans when his fingers find their way to your soaked underwear, rubbing his thumb from your slit to your clit through the fabric. You whine and rock your hips into each movement. You pant into his open mouth as he pulls them to the side, letting the air hit your bare cunt. He dips his thumb into your entrance then drags it up to sloppily circle your clit.

You’re moaning loudly into his mouth, begging him for more. Art smiles against your lips as he takes himself in his hand. He lets his head sweetly kiss your sticky clit, and he asks if you want him to put it in.

You nod eagerly.

"Yeah?" He grunts, tapping his head against you in a taunting manner.

You nod again and let him press against your opening.

Art covers your mouth with his when he finally pushes into you, stifling both of your moans. He gets his arms around your waist, holding you as he rocks into your pussy. You’re whimpering and squeezing around him like you haven’t had dick in years, and Art thinks he might pass out when you start bucking up into him and begging him to fuck you.

He doesn’t even care that he won’t last long. He can’t deny you. So, he wraps your thighs tighter around his waist and pushes himself forward. Your mouth falls open as Art slides out and pushes back into you with a grunt. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at the short strands. You mouth at his jaw as his thighs slap against you.

Art buries his head into your neck as he frantically fucks into your tight hole, and he’s whining that he’s close. His fingers that have been playing with your clit are slippery with your juices and you clench your thighs, nodding with him in agreement.

You end up letting Art Donaldson cum inside you. You let him rub your clit until you orgasm around his dick that’s still buried in you.

You let him help you redress. He’d winced when he saw the mess he made of you between your legs. You ignore the way you can tell he wants to say sorry.

Once you’re both dressed and you’re standing against your car with wobbly legs, Art tells you that he still wants to make it up to you.

You roll your eyes.

“Good night, Art.” You get into the driver’s seat.

“I’m serious.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle. You look back at him and his pleading eyes and his pathetic yet charming smile.

“Your wife has my number.”

And then, you shut the door.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: reader reminds me of Anna Kendrick’s character in A Simple Favor, sweet but also kinda toxic

thanks for inspiring this @artdcnaldson <3