#filthy messy sweaty sex with needy art:/

[jesuistrestriste]

Art Donaldson with literal loser reader? This is for the netizens of the world who don’t do anything but homely activities. Like for the depraved girls/nbs/boys whoever frfr like? Reader who’s obsessed w him, met him through a friend or sm??

art knows you don’t get out much.

he knows you’d prefer to stay inside and obsessively scroll twitter or tumblr or play video games as opposed to accompanying him to a party on campus.

by now, he knows all of your little habits that you’ve developed through your early youth and have grown to enjoy more than anything. he accepts them, because he accepts you.

but he also can’t deny that he’d love to take you out more than you usually let him.

he wants to take you out to a club and grab your hips and rut into your backside while you two drunkenly dance. and he wants to show you off to his friends when they all go out to the bar.

so when he fucks you.. he sometimes lets this stuff slip.

he’s pushing you down into the bedding and moaning into your neck, little gasps punctuating each roll of his hips against yours as he fills you with every single girthy inch of him. he reaches down for one of your hands and directs it to the back of his blonde locks, silently pleading with you to tug on them the way he likes.

“fuh-fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back as he gets close, “nobody even knows we’re dating… you— mngh—! you gotta come out with me this weekend… ohh god..”

and you pull on his hair and wrap your legs around him; your insides too stirred up to form a response. you feel him pummeling the deepest parts of your walls with an intensity that only washes in when he’s aching for something.

“… but.. ungh, fuck fuck fuck, i.. i think you like it, don’t you? staying in when im out… letting me come back to you at the end of the night and stuff my dick into this pretty hole of yours… letting me use you… AH— baby—! fuckkk, i’m gonna come inside you— i’m gonna come inside you, ’m gonna fucking— ohh god, please—“

and then he’s pulling himself out and slamming back in once, twice, three times before he lets out an anguished moan and spills warmly into your body; coating your parts in a thick, sticky, milky dose of desperation and longing as he pulls your back up into an arch while you yelp under him. he presses his stomach to yours as he rides out his high.

he so desperately wants you to quit the internet so that he can take you out properly and show you all of the ways he can make you happy.

he knows you liked him first—he was told that you’d had a huge crush on him—but none of it really mattered now. he’s obsessed with you too, so..

why won’t you let him show the world?