#stalker! art donaldson

[stanart4clearskin]

stalker! art x reader

when art first saw you, it was at the freshman year orientation at stanford. he had been talking to a few of his tennis teammates when you had walked up to one of the guys to ask him a question

from then on art was captivated by you. art admired you from afar because he could never find the right opportunity to approach you because you didn't know each other

he thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he didn't know what it was but there was just something about you that captivated him

art had mentioned you to patrick when he came to visit stanford and much to his disappointment, patrick didn't see you the way that he did. patrick thought you were decently cute but he couldn't understand why art was always drooling over your instagram photos

his stalker behavior had started out innocently. he would just visit your instagram page to stare at the photos you had posted of yourself. this had gone on for a few weeks until art had gotten tired of looking at the same three pictures every day and searched online to see if you had any other social medias

art couldn't find any other online platforms that you were on so he opted to walk by the tennis courts whenever you had practice

honestly that was probably the worst mistake art could've made because seeing your sweaty skin glistening in the sun made him a little dizzy and left him with a boner that he had to cover by awkwardly grabbing his crotch as he rushed back to his dorm

everyday like clockwork he would casually walk by the courts and would secretly snap photos of you so that he had some pictures to look at. sometimes he would strike up conversation with a few of your teammates that he knew

eventually this ended up into art finally having a conversation with you for the first time. art thought he might pass out as you laughed at his stupid jokes but he managed to keep calm until you left and to his luck you accidentally left your sweatshirt

he grabbed it with full intent to return it to you but he could smell you on the jacket so instead he found himself shoving his face into it as he jerked off to the thought of you

from then on he was determined to at least becomes friends with you so he found out what parties you were going to and he made sure he also went to those ones

he would stand with his friends drinking by most of the time his eyes were on you as you stood with your friends drinking

at one point he managed to nick your phone while you weren’t paying attention and he watched at you panicked and frantically asked around if anyone had seen it

after letting you freak out for five minutes he swooped in to help you look and magically managed to find your phone

from then on art had a habit of stealing your things just to help you go look for them because he realized how much you started to like him because he always found your missing items

[nottsangel]

i would loveee to see pervy!stalker!art

i’m thinking like on a joe level 🫣

UGHHH I LOVE THIS !!!! thinking about how the first time you meet art is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you in the stanford hallways, causing your school books to plummet to the ground. faux shock paints his face as he utters a string of apologies while he helps you pick up your scattered books, and god, you can’t help but notice how attractive, kind and dreamy he is as he flashes you a charming grin. little do you know this isn’t the first time he has seen you— he had been watching your every step over the past few months.

from the moment art spotted you strolling through the hallways of stanford, he knew he had to have you. it was odd— this feeling of knowing someone without a single word exchanged, but from that moment on, you were all he could think about. you disrupted his daily routine, his friendships, school results and hell, he even lost interest in tennis. you replaced all of it, and he felt a magnetic, undeniable pull drawing him closer, feeling the need to take care of you— to protect you.

and over these months, art has collected a significant amount of your belongings, locked away in a box under his bed. not only that, he knew your routines— the precise times you left for classes, the coffee you ordered before going to the library, even the names of your childhood friends long forgotten. he also tracked every single digital footprint you left on the web, such as a bad google review you gave to an unknown restaurant you visited five years ago on vacation. but art was smart, calculated, and knew not to get ahead of himself when he sneaked into your dorm room and pressed your worn underwear against his nose, inhaling the heavenly scent, while imagining all the ways he wanted you.

it was difficult, but bumping into you is just the first step to getting close to you. in the end, art donaldson always gets what he wants— it just requires a bit of patience and persistence.

ੈ♡˳

[tinytennisskirt]

Kiss Me

art donaldson x bestfriend!reader

summary: to keep your crazy ex at bay, you and patrick instill a facade of fake-dating, brought on by an impulsive move that art missed the opportunity to take. art, who has had a thing for you forever, is completely crushed, but you’re only FAKE dating patrick. you do have real feelings, y’know?

warnings: kiss!!!!, mention of punching and blood, broken nose, mentions of marijuana, angst, slight miscommunication trope and fake dating trope with a twist!!!

“kiss me,” you said, looking at the boys a little desperately. both of them went wide-eyed, art turning slightly pink. “please! now! one of you kiss me!”

“what?” art says, eyes as big as plates just as patrick lunges forward, grabbing your face and kissing you. now this was a problem because number one, art donaldson has had the biggest crush on you since the moment he met you in the stanford cafeteria, and two, it was his best friend who just kissed you. there’s no escaping that. what the fuck.

art just watched as you kissed him back, a little shocked and little dumbfounded and honestly a little bit crushed. he pressed his mouth into a line for the duration of the kiss, not able to take his eyes away or even blink. he’s just second-guessed and missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime and patrick just took it. patrick. patrick who had to ask what your name was three times the same day he met you because he kept forgetting.

he watched as you pulled away, feeling his heart strings pull. “i’m so sorry, patrick, but thank you.”

patrick grinned, “you’re welcome.”

“hm… why?” art asked, trying not to focus on the way you wiped your lower lip with your thumb. he felt winded, if he was honest. no fucking way you just walk into a room and ask to be kissed by one of them and he doesn’t take it. no way that just fucking happened.

you were a little panicked, though, it seemed- the way your eyes darted around the room. “my ex- the crazy one. he’s here at stanford by some fucking… crazy chance? i knew he was coming to talk to me, i just needed to look… taken.”

“by me?” patrick laughed. “poor guy.”

art’s mouth fell a little open. “so you needed to be kissed?” his emphasis on ‘kissed’ came out bitter.

patrick shoved art just a little, ruffling his hair, “someone jealous?”

yeah, he was jealous. he was pissed. more than. he pressed his tongue to his cheek, “your ex is here?” he ignored it. “like on campus or going here?”

“i don’t know, but i’m kind of terrified.” you said, folding your arms. “i’m sorry about the kiss, pat.”

“don’t be. wasn’t the worst kiss i’ve ever had.”

“okay, rude!” you hit him in the upper arm.

“it was good, i promise.” he laughed. art felt just the slightest bit sick. “but what’s this guys deal?”

“obsessed with me.” you replied, your usual fun and carefree personality silenced to a serious monotone. “it was hard as hell to get rid of him back home but he’s here and that alone is scary as hell.”

“i get that,” art said, turning to patrick. “you remember that one girl janet back at the academy?”

patrick chuckled again, “oh yeah. art had his own little stalker.”

“really?” it seemed to cheer you up. “what did she do?”

“i’ll tell you back at my dorm. don’t need you hanging out where this guy is.” he offered. you agreed and the three of you walked back to his dorm, telling you the janet stories. you did end up feeling better but it was patrick who beat art to walking you back to your dorm. fucked.

art just sat on his bed, knees to his chest, hands draped over his legs wondering what the fuck just happened and how things got so fucked up so fast. the thing was that this was the only crush art had ever withheld from patrick. how fucking stupid did it seem to have hid it now? god, he was so fucked for it. no way patrick could say he kissed you now, that was fucked. and stupid. and lucky. his face fell into his hands as he flopped backward on his bed, hoping patrick came back quickly.

art’s stomach kept flip-flopping at the thought, remembering how you kissed patrick. you kissed patrick. it was so stupid! so fucking stupid. by some hesitation, he fucked everything up for himself. he could have kissed you. he could have KISSED YOU. he groaned out loud, rolling just slightly in pure frustration. this is what he got for keeping shit a secret.

the next day, the three of you were eating in the cafeteria. you and patrick on one side, you sitting across from art. “so he’s definitely going here now-“ you said, gesturing with a french fry. “which is insane and a little bit threatening.”

“he wouldn’t try anything, would he?” art asked, concerned.

“i don’t know,” you shrugged. “he did back home and it was bad. and he’s here and he knows i’m here and the look he gave me yesterday…”

patrick spoke with his mouth full, “as if he could get past me. and art.” he said. you smiled, art hated how beautiful it was when you smiled at his best friend. patrick swallowed his fries, “there’s no way he’s getting close with us around.”

“what if i’m alone, though? class to class? or class to dorms?”

art was about to offer to walk to to and from whenever he could but patrick spoke first, again. never had he wanted to jam a fork in his best friend’s throat so quickly. “i’ll walk you. you said yesterday you wanted to look taken, so i mean, it would keep up appearances.”

you gasped and grabbed the table, “oh my god. fake dating. like in the movies. that’s such a good idea.”

art wondered if you remembered that the fake dating trope always ended in falling for each other for real. he felt his chest tighten, there was no way fake dating was just suggested because patrick kissed you first. “i don’t know about that,” art said. “if you have to say ‘like in the movies’ is it a great idea in real life?”

“it could be?” you shrugged, looking at patrick. “maybe it will. and then once he knows to leave me alone for sure we can just go back to normal. if you’re up for it, pat?”

“yeah i’m up for it,” he says. “i don’t have anywhere to be but here anyways.”

“true,” you nodded.

art just covered his mouth with his hand and looked somewhere else. he couldn’t eat anymore. this was actually happening in front of his eyes and he couldn’t say anything or do anything about it. his chest stayed tight, as if someone had laced around his rib cages and started pulling hard. he bit his cheek to keep from showing just how much this hurt him. because it did, it hurt him, no matter how innocent it was on your end, on patrick’s end. well, maybe not on patrick’s end. art wasn’t sure about how patrick really felt on the topic- he could only hope that patrick didn’t see real potential…

you placed your hand on art’s, trying to get his attention again, “oh my god you’re freezing.” you said, squeezing his hand just a little. his attention fell on that, on you. “you’re okay?”

“with what?” art said, a little presumptuous.

“just asking if you’re okay. you stared off for a bit there.” you said, hand still intertwined with his like it was nothing. it was nothing.

patrick was focused on his food. and art already hated third wheeling a fake couple. “i’m fine, i just remembered i have some shit i have to do before my next class. i’ll see you guys back at my dorm later?”

“oh, meet at mine,” you said as art got up with his meal that was only 1/4 dug into. “just in case you-know-who is around?”

“yeah,” art nodded. he didn’t have many words left in him. he was sure if he forced words out it’d be some monologue about how frustrated he was that he missed the fucking opportunity to kiss you and this was snowballing and he was not feeling good at all, in fact he was feeling really sick. “see you guys later.”

he didn’t see the way your eyebrows furrowed when he walked away. patrick did though. “was that weird?” you asked him. “the way he got up and left, was that weird? am i imagining things?”

“no, that was weird.” patrick agreed. “i don’t know what’s up with him though, he hasn’t said anything.”

“nothing?”

“he was like that last night when i was over after you left. didn’t talk much.”

you twisted your mouth to the side, wondering what could be up with him. but he didn’t say anything, not for the two weeks that you and patrick were fake-dating. art pretended like he was fine when patrick walked you to art’s dorm room to hang out, pretended like he was fine when you sat with patrick in the stands at his own tennis game, too close for comfort just because your ex was in the crowd too. art lost that game just thinking about how much he wanted to toss his racket right at patrick. it wasn’t out of hatred- he did not hate his best friend, he was jealous of his best friend. all because art hesitated and he didn’t…

and you kept wondering why art was so distant. was he upset with something? what was he keeping to himself that made him so standoffish? you were determined to know because obviously two weeks is a while to be ‘out of it’ as art claimed he was.

you and patrick held hands at the table, you were trying not to look at your ex who stood in the corner on his phone, standing facing you. “your hands are really hot,” you said to him, chuckling.

“that’s not me.”

“that’s all you,” you said, laughing quietly. it doesn’t sound very genuine, you were nervous. art could tell. “he’s still watching?”

art pretended to scan the cafeteria, noting the cold gaze your ex set on you. patrick had two people in this room to be jealous of, which sucked. patrick for the hand he held and your ex for the simple fact that he had you. he was ugly, to be honest. not a great looking guy but apparently enough to date you at some point. fuck. he nodded back at you to tell you yes, you were still being watched.

you wished you didn’t have to hold patrick’s hand. the fake dating thing wasn’t so bad, it was just added actions to hanging out with your best friend. just a few kisses and he wasn’t bad- but there was nothing in it. it was funny if anything, you usually ended up laughing about it. it was so dumb. maybe you could let your hand slip out if his… his hands were sickeningly warm.

art stared at your intertwined fingers. fucking sick and jealous and upset. you, perfect, pretty, purple nail polish, lip gloss, quick humour and soft gaze and your hand was in patrick’s. unappreciated, almost an empty gesture. patrick didn’t like you. not the way art did, not the way art could have. if he didn’t fucking hesitate. if he’d kissed you then. it would have been so easy… he watched your hand slip out of patrick’s and brush against your jeans. art hated how it made him smile just in the slightest. but it was fleeting. patrick reached his arm around you and pulled you closer and art swore he felt his heart drop a few inches in his chest. he should have been used to it by now.

but he wasn’t when you hugged patrick the next day when saying goodbye, your ex just always around. art was on his way to trying to get rid of this guy just so you’d stop touching patrick. art, a sweet boy, thinking about kicking this guys ass just for patrick to take his hand off of your waist. it was killing him, it was taking him apart.

it killed him when he watched all these empty acts… why was your ex always fucking there? it was crazy how afraid you were of him but so rightful, why was he always around? but you hugged patrick, you kissed him on the cheek, you held his hand and it was vile and it hurt, this ache in his chest never dulling. even when you weren’t around, it was still there. art prayed for easy sleep most nights, if he was awake laying in bed it would eat him alive. his chest would tighten to the point of pain. he missed out on one thing and spent every night just repeating that moment of hesitation, that mistake.

you and art alone was hard to come by naturally. usually patrick was around, even if the both of you didn’t want it. you sat with him in the library. “you’re so lucky that janet girl didn’t follow you to stanford,” you groaned, resting your head on your arms on the table. “i miss being free.”

“you can be free.” art said, closing the book he was looking at. “he shouldn’t control anything. fuck him, honestly.”

“don’t remind me,” you groaned again, putting your face into your arm. “i feel haunted and i’m scared, im never not scared.” your head turned on it’s side, facing him without lifting your head. “his actions back home, if the cops hadn’t gotten involved i don’t even know what would have happened. he got a warning and i moved away but he’s here and he’s everywhere. it’s a good thing he’s not literate.”

art smiled just a bit at that, but not all of that. you smiled too. he was glad you were making light of it. it was good to see you not so on edge without being in your room or his. “i’m sorry you’re scared. you have the right to be, but i wish you weren’t. he’s here, yeah, and as long as patrick and i are around, he won’t get to you. not even a word. i catch him within ten feet of you, he’s done.” he pulls a loose string off of your sweater- “can you still do that cartwheel thing?”

“yeah i’m gonna cartwheel him to death,” you nod. “i’ll teach you if you want to help me tag team him with cartwheels.”

“i think if you can do it, he’s already a goner.” he pushed your hair out of your face and you smiled, shutting your eyes, enjoying the peace of a public space without the eyes of anyone but art. art was a quiet contrast to the whirlwinds and overstimulation of feeling watched and having to hold hands or be touching patrick in some way. art was a perfect break from it.

he watched how you looked with your slight smile on glossy lips, your eyelashes perfect as your eyes laid closed. and more than any time he’d seen you and patrick, more than any touch and kiss he knew you’d exchanged with his best friend, he was the angriest he’d ever been that he didn’t kiss you then. the angriest. but it coexisted with the extent of how he felt about you, being here with you, the extreme happiness. art donaldson was a fairly simple guy but you were so… how could he not be…

fuck.

the next day it just about ripped him to shreds to see you kiss patrick again. even after you pulled a bit of a face. and it was too much. he couldn’t do it anymore. his avoidance worsened, he tried to get out of hanging out as much as he could. he couldn’t bear seeing the empty affection. how lucky patrick was to get to do it. he just couldn’t see it anymore. he got further and further from you both. hanging out with you alone only sometimes, patrick alone sometimes. he felt a little outcast but it was his own doing for his own good.

you enjoyed all the time you got with him alone. he was the peace and quiet. he was the next safest thing but without the pretending part. with him you didn’t have to pretend anything. you’d just talk, laugh, he made you laugh so much you almost forgot you were having an ex-boyfriend crisis. he was sweet and he was so kind and it was refreshing to know someone who just wanted to spend time with you. and you didn’t have to be anyone for anyone. but you missed hanging out with him the way you used to- which was a lot more, and you missed the three of you hanging out, smoking, talking, dancing, being weird and loud. it meant a lot to you and it just sucked when he wasn’t there. you had to fix it. you had to see him more!

you caught him after one of his late evening classes, running up from behind and covering his eyes. “guess who?”

“it’s not patrick…” he said, small smile on his face as you uncovered his eyes and began to walk his pace next to him. “hey.”

“hiii,” you lead. “so i was wondering if maybe you wanted to get dinner?”

he looked the other way to hide how his eyes widened. “dinner?” he looked back at you.

“yeah. nothing crazy, i mean, probably just the campus bar if you wanted.” you just wanted some time alone with him in a good setting. maybe start going out without patrick…

art pressed his lips together, looking at you. dinner meant patrick. the campus bar meant a risk of being seen by your ex. appearances were important, after all. “i have chinese leftovers,” art lied for the sake of not having to be around you and patrick and the fake hand-holding and all of the things that made him nauseous. “i’ll see you after though?”

“oh.” you said, smiling. “why don’t we skip dinner? i can grab something on the way back to your dorm.”

“it’s fine. i’ll see you after, no problem. i think patrick has an ounce on him still, we can smoke or something.”

“yeah.” you said, honestly a little embarrassed your attempt at hanging out with him alone had failed. but even with that, he still “i’m just going to head back to my room. what time do you want me over?”

“maybe nine? make sure patrick doesn’t forget his rolling papers.”

“i won’t…” you said, noticing how art’s pace picked up. you had no idea how badly he wanted to get away from the idea of you and patrick out to dinner for appearances. “art?”

“yeah?”

your next words sounded a bit insecure. you swallowed them and decided on saying something else. “i like your hat.”

“you bought it for me.” he smiled.

“i know.” you smiled back. “see you later.”

“see you.” the second he could, his face turned to an expression of disgust. this whole thing was so stupid- all of this because he hesitated. bullshit. he’d almost gone a day without thinking about it. when would it end?

you went back to your dorm alone. or you tried. earbuds in, ipod on, listening some 90s hit you’d been obsessed with again lately and it didn’t occur to you that this was the first time you’d walked across campus alone. you had shortcuts patrick showed you, alleyways between residencies.

and there he was. him. by chance or by choice you didn't know and the second you realized was the second you realized it was too late and he had you blocked into a corner. your earbuds fell from your ears as he began to curse at you. the events began and you tried to use your speed dial to get either art or patrick, but you could only click patrick’s before he yelled at you to put your phone down. patrick didn’t pick up.

you were afraid.

it was forty minutes later when art got a call from patrick, asking if he was free. just on a whim.

“hey, you up for anything?”

art blinked, “you’re with Y/N?”

“nah. actually, i didn’t call while you were in class, but she said she was going to ask some guy out, i think the fake dating thing is done for.”

art’s stomach did it’s first front flip instead of a backflip. “done for?”

“yeah, honestly i’m glad. she’s been scaring away a few girls i’ve had my eyes on. not that i minded helping her out, it just- she’s not my type, you know? she’s a good friend but i couldn’t… you know.”

art rethought you finding him after class. he was fucking stupid- asking a guy out, asking him out? he didn’t know if he was crazy but when you mentioned getting dinner you didn’t mean with patrick, you didn’t have plans with patrick. oh fuck, art thought, feeling five things at once. distress, joy, stupidity, a bit of anger, and regret. “she say who she was asking out?”

“no. but i’m happy for her. i think she’s not afraid of her ex as much anymore. plus, fake dating or not we’re still her friends and we’re around her pretty often. the guy wouldn’t go near her with us around.”

“that’s what i keep saying,” art nodded as if patrick could see him. he was grabbing his sweater and shoes as he spoke. “listen- uh- come meet me here at campus at ten. i might not be back at ten but you know where the key is. i gotta go… bring rolling papers.”

“done,” patrick agreed. “talk to you later.”

“bye,” art said, leaving out the door. if he was right, you’d just asked him to dinner and he had said no. without hesitation this time, he had said no. he said he had chinese leftovers, he didn’t have anything. fuck. so stupid, you were probably at your dorm alone right now. fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck.

he ran a hand through his hair as he jumped the stairs and left his building to head over to yours. walking a little faster than he had control over- breaking a jog. yes he’d go to dinner with you, what the fuck, how did this happen, did you like him? his head was a bit of a mess but he had to find you. he called you on his way over but no answer. he walked up to your dorm and knocked, but no answer. hm. maybe he wasn’t the guy? or something. his brain drew conclusions and he checked the common rooms on his way downstairs and outside.

fuck. did he miss a chance again? again, after all of this? another chance? he’d had too many taken from him but this was his own fault.

“i’m sorry, okay!” you said, voice shaky. you were trying to be loud without letting him know you were trying to draw attention to yourself so that anyone might intervene. “i’m sorry we haven’t spoken, i didn’t know you wanted to.”

“bullshit. you saw me, you didn’t even say hi.”

“hi! please, can i just go back to my dorm i don’t know what else you want.”

“you know what i want. what i miss. what i know you miss too, i know that patrick asshole doesn’t give you what i gave you…” trauma, you thought. fought not to say it to his face. but you were afraid. “you miss me.”

“i-“

“bullshit! just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you don’t want me.”

“can i please go back to my dorm room? if you don’t let me go, i’ll scream.” you said, a little more panicked by the second. he stepped closer and you stepped back into the wall. “i will scream and you will be caught.”

“you’re not going to be screaming anything but my name-“

“please.” you pleaded. “it’s not worth it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” art said, punching your ex in the face, hard. pain immediately splintered up his hand and into his wrist. he hissed a bit in pain, immediately shaking his hand out. “fuck.” he’d never punched anyone ever in his life. not like that.

you covered your mouth and watched as your ex raised his hand to his nose, bleeding and honestly disgustingly crooked. art broke his nose. you reached to the side for him, unable to take your eyes off your ex as he scrambled to his feet. he wasn’t the type to fight and he was a coward, always was. your hand found the sleeve of art’s shirt and you grabbed hard.

“fuck you,” your ex seethed, blood running down his face. “say goodbye to your tennis career buddy, that’s assault.”

“and what were you about to do?” he had never felt more adrenaline in his body. he wasn’t himself. your ex went quiet and if there was ability to turn red even after bleeding, he was pink in the face. he stumbled, stuttered. And hurried off. “fuck!” art said, holding his hand with the other hand. it pulsed in sharp pain. “jesus-“ his eyes fell on you and immediately he was pulling you into a hug he didn’t even hesitate about. his hand hurt like hell but with his arms wrapped around you he ignored the pain coursing through his fingers, hand, and wrist just to squeeze you tight. you were breathing hard, a little ragged, a little bit like you were trying not to cry. “you’re okay.” he said gently.

he made sure not to get the blood from his knuckles on you. it was more important to hold you than it was to tend to that right now.

you could have stayed in his arms a while longer and he would have let you, but things sunk in. “you punched him.”

he winced in pain again, “not properly. fuck, this hurts. i’ve never punched anyone before.”

he knew you were still in some state of shock and surprise and frankly, so was he. “that was…” you saw his hand, how badly he’d hurt it, your hands gently grabbed it. “oh my god, art…”

“it’s fine,”

“it’s not fine. i’m so sorry, does it hurt badly?”

“no, not much.” a lot. “just a bit.”

“i’m so sorry, art, i’m so sorry, thank you, that was… crazy.”

art almost chuckled. you were sorry, of course you were. you were the sweetest girl in the world, sorry for something he did. “why are you sorry? don’t be sorry.” he said.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you said, taking his fucked up hand in your own.

“what if i told you i really wanted to?”

you smiled just a bit. you knew he wasn’t violent. in fact, art was one of the most gentle people he’d ever known. “thank you. i think if anyone was deserving, it was him.” you held his hand the way you did and it was gentle in return, but your hands were shaking. you looked him in the eyes, grateful and genuine. “come on. let’s get this cleaned up.” you said. the pain in his hand almost dulled when you looked at him, he swore. it returned, shooting and throbbing as he followed you into your dorm room.

he sat on your bed and you came over with your little first aid kit and some water. your hands were still shaking. “you’ll report him later?” he asked.

“i think i will. will you come with me?” you asked, wiping the blood that wasn’t near any of the wounds.

“of course.” he nodded. “you’re okay though?”

“i will be.” you nodded. in the dim of your dorm room, the lamplight warm, he saw you smile just a bit. his heart beat hard in his chest. he understood your short responses. “i was just walking home… he cornered me, i didn’t think he could. he did.”

“he won’t do it again.”

“i know. he’s a coward. once he’s caught he backs off.”

“you’ll be free from him. especially if you report him and it goes over well.” art said. “but you stood your ground that whole time?”

you sniffed as you tossed the bloody tissue away, “yeah. i didn’t cartwheel though, not enough space.”

art laughed just a little and so did you. “i’m sorry i didn’t either. probably would have hurt less.” he flexed his hand, wincing in pain. “can’t believe i punched a guy.”!

“me neither,” you giggled. “i think you broke his nose.”

“i hope so.” he returned. “would be a good first try.”

“would be good. he was already ugly anyway- now maybe he can get some reconstructive surgery.” you giggled. he was glad to see you laughing about it. “art, this is going to sting a bit.” you said, his hand in your own. art nodded, braced, and you put a few drops of some solution on his hand, watching it fizz up. he hissed just a little, and you tightened your grip on his hand. his lips pressed together.

he sighed, breathing out slowly. “i’m never punching anyone again, jesus christ-“

“good, i hope you don’t have to,” you said, cleaning it again, him wincing in pain again. “i’m sorry-“ you added.

art smiled, “don’t be sorry.”

“then i’m not.” you said, cheeky smile in return. you were so beautiful… silence filled the room for a moment. it was a thick silence, filled with unsaid words.

until art broke it, “you think you’ll continue to fake-date patrick?”

you looked at him through your eyelashes, “i’m done with that. he was angry with patrick, said some shitty things. it didn’t stop him.” you nodded. “plus patrick said it was scaring other girls away.” you laughed. “i’m just glad i don’t have to hold his hand anymore, he’s so… warm.”

art nodded. he adjusted the way he sat, getting the slightest bit closer. “you’re glad it’s over with?”

“for sure,” you said, bandaging his knuckles up, securing it with with pins. “i hate kissing people without meaning, you know?”

“i know.”

“it just… it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t what i wanted from the getgo.”

art’s eyes softened, but his eyebrows furrowed, “you seemed pretty excited about the fake dating. like in the movies. was it anything…” he trailed off as you raised his bandaged hand to your lips and kissed his hand gently. as if kissing it better. you did it like it was the most natural action. art cleared his throat, “wasn’t what you wanted?”

“wasn’t what i wanted. from the start.” you repeated.

“i thought you had plans with patrick tonight, that’s why i said no.” he stated, just so you knew.

he swore he saw you blush, “no- that was just- i didn’t. i just, i don’t knowwww.” art noted how close the two of you were. “i just thought maybe you would.”

“i didn’t know you meant just me,” he chuckled. “if i did, it would have been yes.”

your hands still shook ever so slightly. “it’s good to know. and if i asked again…” you trailed, your cheeks just the slightest bit pink.

he smiled, trying to keep it a smile and not a grin, “i’d say yes.” he swallowed hard, “and if i asked you if i could kiss you right now…”

“i’d say yes,” you replied. “hypothetically- i mean-“ you started giggling as he moved your hair from your face, smile turning into a grin, bandaged hand grazing your cheek just slightly. your eyelashes fluttered gently and your giggle turned into a smile.

“hypothetically?” he beamed, leaning in

“mhm,” you smiled, meeting him halfway. you both smiled into the kiss, but it was slow, sickeningly slow, with no impulsivity and nothing at stake. lips barely grazing each other’s, gently, not fully kissing, not yet. art’s non-bandaged hand slid over your jaw, settling to the place just below your ear before he closed the (very) small gap between.

the kiss stayed slow, art’s lips pressed to yours sweetly, gently, easily. and it filled the void every empty kiss with patrick left in you. his lips were soft, and so were yours, your berry lipbalm the cause. your lips almost melted into his, the way it felt like you were meant to kiss him. your lips fit together in a way where they never really had with patrick. or anyone, ever.

mouthes open, just slightly, taking in as much as possible in a kiss while still moving with only patience. the breaths in between filled with the feeling of you smiling against his lips. his heart pounded in his chest, about as hard as it did when the adrenaline kicked in earlier. but it was just you. only you.

and the kiss was slowly undoing the ache he’d felt for two months. his chest was full, heart pumping, feeling warm. and actually happy. really happy. there was no pain to be felt, not in his hand, not in any manner. your hand on the back of his head, fingers slowly moving through his hair, sliding over his jaw. it was only a few minutes, both of you not wanting to stop, not for anything, but there was a knock on the door. and you both pulled away, both a little dazed. art’s cheeks and nose were visibly pink and he for sure was wearing your lip balm at that point.

“it’s probably patrick,” art said. “he’s got… weed.”

“he’s got weed?” you smiled, standing up over him. “think he’ll knock again?”

“probably,” art replied, reaching up and pulling you back down into a kiss, your body between his legs on the edge of the bed. another kiss, just a little faster this time, your hands cupping his face gently. interrupted once more after twenty seconds by patrick knocking. you pulled away with the prettiest grin and went to answer the door.

patrick came in with a knowing look that he shot art before questioning art’s bandaged hand. the story unravelled over a joint and a good amount of laughter and for once art was able to enjoy his friend’s company without those nagging thoughts and feelings. you might have been patrick’s with the facade, but this was real. art’s hand rested on your thigh and before the night truly ended, the proper plans were made. not only to report your jackass of an ex, but to get dinner after.

[faiszt]

✦ ⠀.⠀° ⠀BOT DUMP :⠀ by⠀﹫⠀faiszt ⠀/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⠀♡

NOTES⠀. ᰰ⠀ hey, babies! just had to stop by to say a huge thanks for the 2K followers on c.ai, love you all 🤍 ˊᗜˋ ~

PS.⠀remember, bots are not real. take care of yourself.⠀🩶

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀crybaby, crybaby⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀pathetic and needy, like a lost puppy since you broke up with him. he's lost count of how many times he's heard that he should "get over you", but he couldn't—he needed you, and he needed to know if you still loved him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀the last time⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀having and not having something with patrick sounded almost the same, since one night you were everything to him and the next day he didn't even answer your calls. you swore that this would be the last time, until he knocked on your dorm door again.⠀♡ gender neutral!⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀FORMULA 1⠀*⠀˖⠀🏁

𝅭⠀non-spanish, yeah?⠀.⠀carlos sainz⠀૮⠀a trainee journalist and the opportunity to interview a driver for the first time, it was a chance that couldn't be missed, right? yes, well, of course, you just had to make sure you didn't embarrass yourself and he had to make sure he didn't flirt with you.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

𝅭⠀monaco’s it couple!⠀.⠀charles leclerc⠀૮⠀rumors and more rumors, people were always talking about your relationship on the internet and since you stopped going to see the races, they just assumed you had broken up. until the monaco grand prix brought more than just a victory for charles.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀ONE TREE HILL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏫

𝅭⠀who are we to fight the alchemy?⠀.⠀nathan scott⠀૮⠀ god knows how many times nathan tried to push you away from him, not 'cause he didn't like you, but 'cause he liked you way too much—and if he hurt you, he would never be able to forgive himself. but, after all, who are we to fight the alchemy?⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀OUTER BANKS⠀*⠀˖⠀🗝️

𝅭⠀the famous vagabond love⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀he was a walking problem that everyone knew about and you were the opposite, the breath of fresh air his numb lungs needed—the only person he genuinely cared about. even if your conservative parents tried to keep you away from him, he would never accept being away from you for a single day, he was yours.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

𝅭⠀late-night stalker⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀what place could be safer than your own home in a friday night? no people, no unnecessary noise, just peace... or rather, don't be so sure about "no people". after all, you just walked into your room and rafe is right there... just waiting for you, his angel.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀RESIDENT EVIL⠀*⠀˖⠀💀

𝅭⠀best friends⠀.⠀leon kennedy⠀૮⠀you, a rookie cop, are leon's only friend and by god, he doesn't even know the difference between a friend and a best friend, but you are genuinely the highlight of his tiring life as a federal agent.⠀slightly insp by aaron warner.⠀♡ gender neutral!

[yameoto]

CHALLENGERS bots! except it’s more like art with a small side serving of patrick

art donaldson ✦ | patrick's sibling ( off limits! ) ✧ | stalker. ✧ | cowboy!au. patrick zweig ✦ | pissed off / pent up!

[poppy-metal]

art leaving creep!reader a note to meet somewhere to see what they look like, but he only watches from a distance and essentially stands them up.......... reader doesn't take kindly to that at ALL

SLOW YOUR HORSES ART CANT KNOW WHAT SHE LOOKS LIKE YET !!!!

i imagine he he eventually does cave in and writes her a note back - eventually persuades her into getting a burner phone - she'd outright refused to give out her real number, shes not stupid, art would absolutely track her down that way - but she'd agreed to a secondhand one. art even payed for it. money rolled up with a rubber band in his last note, i just wanna talk with you more. dont you want to talk to me?

and she'd caved.

the first time they spend texting you're sweating bullets. chewing your nails to absolute stubs. rocking back and forth on your bed almost sick with nerves trying to figure out what to say.

it all feels..... so real. which is stupid. your plan has always been to meet him face to face one day - to have him see you. how else are you supposed to get married and have his babies??

but before it was one-sided and you were protected by complete anonymity. art still didn't know who you were, but he'd learn about you. it would be a two way communication. a conversation..... this made your stomach twist in knots.

what if he didn't like how you talked? what if he took this opportunity to tell you to fuck off and tell you what a creep you were and how gross he found you and how you needed to leave him alone forever. you'd kill yourself. you'd genuinely just die.

deep down you knew what you feared the most - you feared being perceived at all. it was safe to fantasize from afar, and it was safe to leave him notes. it was safe to envision a life with art donaldson and imagine how he'd touch you and love you for who you were and want you and not think you were a freak or ugly or less than.

actually engaging with him like this - you'd risk it becoming a reality. you'd risk being found out. you'd risk being hated you'd risk being.... liked. and how scary a thought was that? when you'd spent your whole life unnoticed by everyone around you, to finally be noticed by an angel?

you sit in the same spot on your bed for hours. just staring at the empty text box with arts number in it - fingers hovering over the keypad. you'd chewed your lip raw. you could taste the iron of blood in your mouth.

you typed, hello, art. its me....

what else could you say? hello tis i your stalker? your one true love? future mother of your children?

breathlessly waited with your heart in your throat, your hands so slick with sweat the phone almost slipped out of your hold. you wanted to throw it across the room and forget the whole thing. you could go back to the notes.

but then the phone pinged. lit up with a text. it could only be from one person, as you only were using this device to talk to one individual -

it read.

you're always so formal! i thought it might be a bit in your letters, but you actually talk like that, huh?

...do you not like it? i can change it.

no, dont. i like it. a second text under that one. i think its cute.

the phone did drop then. slipped right out of your slack fingers and onto your bed. your cheeks burned so hot so quickly you had to scramble over to your mini fridge and open it - cool your face.

cute......cute......

he'd called you cute.

[cellophaine]

Chapter III: RALLY

Masterlist

Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader

Warnings: More flirting if you can believe it.

Author's Note: I did not run this through Grammarly so hopefully it's still digestible.

GIF Source: @/roranicuspond

The music, the chatter, the shouts of excitement reverberated throughout the big house and became a concentrated fusion of noise in your ears. You took another sip of the spiked fruit punch and grimaced at the taste. It burned all the way down, but the buzz it provided was pleasant. You watched all these strangers mingling about, chatting and dancing and playing games you weren’t privy to, no one paid attention to you. After several failed attempts at striking and maintaining a conversation, you retreated to the corner of the kitchen after escaping the common area. The array of food and drinks was within reach, and from here, you could people watch.

Midterms came with the guarantee of long hours into the nights, and went with the promise of celebration. Ashley, your roommate, was more than eager to deliver on that promise, and also the reason why you came to the party. Your other roommate, Grace, went out with her book club, leaving you the only chaperone, and confidence boost Ashley needed to talk to her crush. It took an egregious amount of convincing from Ashley for you to finally agreed. You needed to get out more, Ashley said on the way to the party, you worked so hard for midterms and it showed in the results. Your wandering mind thought of Art, a minor diversion in your study these days. You hadn’t seen him since the day he treated you to lunch, and never approached him for the few times you saw him on campus. Most of the time, he had a bag of racquet on his shoulder. You wondered if he noticed you, and if he also contemplated whether to say hi to you. You were grateful either way, since you had no doubt he would become a great distraction that you couldn’t afford.

More people poured into the kitchen, so you took that opportunity to fill your cup with a ladle of the same fruit punch, and slipped outside through the back door. The yard was big, with high wooden fence wrapped around the property. There was a pool to your left, and an open grass field with a bonfire blazing. Most people hung around the pool, so you made a beeline for the fire. You shivered as a cold breeze brushed over the skin on your exposed arms. You chose the small wooden bench after asking the few people who were already there if you could take a seat. The flame, alongside the alcohol, warmed you up from the inside out. You grimaced at a small sip, the taste of the punch somehow became more foul than the last. Bracing yourself, you took another, hoping the pleasant buzz would amp up, and wishing the time would past even quicker.

“If this isn’t the girl I’ve been looking for.”

You thought your hearing was mistaken, but it was him. You turned your head, and there Art was, standing two feet away, looking at you with a bottle of Sprite in his hand. He was wearing a Stanford hoodie and shorts, the golden waves of his hair were tousled softly in the gentle wind. You couldn’t help the complacency in your voice.

“You’ve been looking for me?”

“All the time. Ever since when I last saw you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a stalker.”

“No. Just an admirer.”

You took another moment to appreciate the sight of him in front of you, before scooting to the other side of the bench as much as you could. You patted the empty space you’d just left, and Art immediately accepted your invitation. His knee knocking against yours as he sat down. Your thighs grazed when he settled, and you felt your cheeks warm at the contact.

“How are you?”

“So what brought you–?”

You talked at the same time, and then broke into a nervous chuckle together. Art jerked his chin at you.

“You go first.”

“Okay. Well, my roommate brought me here.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s with her crush. I’m here because she didn’t want to go alone. You?”

“Robbie invited me. He’s my hitting partner this semester. He knows some guy who lives here.”

You hummed noncommittally. You cleared your throat after a mouthful of your drink when Art asked.

“How did your midterm go?”

“It went … very well. You?”

“Uhh, maybe less well than you.”

“If you study as much as you train then I have no doubt that you did great.”

You said it without much thought. Art looked at you with a new interest.

“How did you know that?”

Your brows knitted in confusion.

“Know what?”

“That I train. Quite often.”

You stumbled over your words as you thought of an answer.

“Well, it was … I just … I’ve seen you on campus a few times, and you always have a racquet bag with you. In the few times that I saw you. In case that wasn’t clear.”

Art leaned back as if to take you in fully. The way he cocked an eyebrow coupled with the playful smile on his lips screamed mischief.

“So you’ve been stalking me.”

“Absolutely not.”

Your denial was immediate. You diverted your gaze to the fire and took a long sip from your cup to hide the embarrassment tinged in your features.

“You know, if you want to hang out more with me …”

Art leaned in, and you couldn’t resist the pull from his gaze. A light citrus scent stirred at your sense of smell, and it was soothing.

“ … all you have to do is to give me your phone number. You know, to make it easier for both of us.”

You pretended to think about his proposition, sucking air through your teeth.

“I don’t know. You haven’t proved yourself to be anything but a distraction.”

“Me? A distraction?”

“Yup. As a straight A student like myself, I can’t afford distraction.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the fact that it was your clumsy attempt at flirting wth Art, but you felt bolder, your lips more loose. He moved in even closer, invading your space, and you could see the flutter of his long lashes that framed his widened eyes. Everything about him made you feel like you were in a big trouble.

“Oh my god. You’re obsessed with me.”

“No, I’m so not.”

“Yes, you are. You must think about me all the time.”

Your cheeks burned and you were certain it wasn’t due to the alcohol. You felt like you were caught with a crime you were guilty of committing. Art had been more than just a passing thought. He was a frequent recurrence in your mind. You stammered for a defensive stance.

“What about you? If anything, you’re the one who’s obsessed. You’ve been asking me for my number every time we see each other.”

“Right. You can deny it all you want, but I can see it clear as day.”

“I’m not denying anything. I’m just … telling you that I don’t … think about you.”

His brows raised as if he didn’t believe you.

“Not that … often, anyway.”

He grinned, satisfied with your answer. You put a hand over your eyes.

“Can we … move past this, please?”

Art chuckled and leaned away with his hands held up, satisfied like a purring cat after a big meal. He watched as you took a swig of your empty drink.

“Do you want a refill?”

“Yeah. Not the same thing though. I’ve had enough of gasoline juice.”

His chuckle was light, rising above everything else around you even though you weren’t alone.

“I can find something decent for you.”

You moved to go with him, but Art held out a hand.

“You stay here. I’ll get it for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You watched as he disappeared into the crowded house. You caught the smile that crept onto your face, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. The waning crescent was an imposing presence amongst the stars in the clear sky. The fire was warm, and so was the feeling you harboured inside. You were glad that you stuck around and saw Art again, the one person who had occupied your mind more often than you’d like to admit. The easy banter and flirtatious remarks were only bonuses to what he was to you. A person who seemed to like you for who you were, and not for what you could do for him. He had been nothing but nice to you, reducing your well-constructed wall to a feeble fence that parted in half whenever he came around.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as a gust of wind swooped by. You rubbed your arms to alleviate the cold and drew into yourself. And then you heard it, his name in a cheerful voice. Your head turned to the source as if the call was for you. Art had already walked to her with a drink and a paper bag in hands. You watched as they conversed. She was gorgeous, her light golden brown skin glowed even in the low light. She was slim and tall, almost matched Art’s height. From this distance, you couldn’t hear them, but you could see the way they laughed at something she said, their heads bowed towards each other in the movement. You felt like you were an intruder in their conversation, even though you were only watching. She touched his arm and left, leaving Art looking after her as she disappeared into the house. Something stirred in the back of your mind, but you quickly dismissed it before it even took form. You whipped your head back to the fire, pretending that you’d been looking at it as Art turned around and made his way over to you. Art held out the cup and you accepted it with a word of appreciation. He settled in next to you for the second time that night, and your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?”

“You wish.”

He chuckled, and looked at the way you held yourself.

“Are you cold?”

“A little bit. But it’s fine. The fire is keeping me warm.”

An involuntary shiver broke through your body.

“You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

Art stood up and took off his hoodie. The movement tugged the white t shirt he wore underneath upward, and you could catch a glimpse of his leaned lower torso, the faint V line leading into the band of his underwear. You quickly averted your eyes to meet his own under the messy blond locks, your cheeks burned at the quick glance.

“No, Art, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

He held out the hoodie.

“Just take it.”

It looked like he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you took it and put it on. The sleeves covered your hands and more, the body fabric pooled around your midsection. His warmth settled over you like an embrace, igniting the excitement that brewed underneath your skin. You relaxed into the scent and the comfort of him, and sighed softly.

“All better?”

He put his arms around you, making rapid up and down motions to create friction and warming you up. Your heart jumped at the contact even though there was a layer between his hands and your skin.

“This is really nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He let you go and held up the brown paper bag he left at his feet.

“Do you want some s’mores?”

/

“Wow. I’ve never seen someone who’s this bad at making s’mores.”

Art commented after your third burned marshmallow while you frantically blew on it to put out the fire. The charred remain sagged sadly on the stick. You frowned.

“It’s still … edible.”

“Edible? It looks like a lump of coal.”

You bowed your head, defeated.

“Here.”

Art put a perfectly toasted marshmallow on a graham cracker for you.

“Take it. And please, it’s just a s’more.”

You accepted the treat, and bit into it. The gooey sweetness enveloped your tongue, and you hummed in approval. You watched as Art discarded your burned sweet into the fire.

“How are you so bad at this?”

“Well, my parents aren’t exactly the outdoor type.”

“Lucky for you, you have a master at work here.”

He taught you to put the marshmallow near the ember, not directly in the flame. Eventually, you made one without burning it to crisp. Art cheered as you showed in your stellar achievement in between the graham crackers. Your heart hammered as he leaned in and took a bite from out of your hand. He closed his eyes, a moan sounded deep in his throat.

“The sweet victory of my teaching.”

A marshmallow string dripped over his bottom lip. Your eyes glued to his movement as he swiped it off, brought the thumb to his mouth and licked it. But there was still some left on the curve of his lip. Out of instinct, your hand reached for the spot he missed and wiped it off with careful tenderness. Art held still, and his breathing seemed to follow. He gazed at you with an impossible softness in his eyes, and you felt a new fervour of heat warming your face. Neither of you said anything, nor dared to breathe too loudly. Your hand lingered on his face, and you felt an urge to run it over his jawline, to pull him close, eager to taste the sweetness of the treat from his lips.

A loud whoop shrilled in your ears, followed by the sound of water being splashed. Pulled away from the moment, you drew your hand back and cleared your throat.

“I think I’ve mastered it now.”

/

The night ended with Art walking you home. Before you left party, you found Ashley and made sure she was okay. She beamed ear to ear and told you she’d spend some more time here. You asked her to be careful and to text you if she needed anything. You parted ways, finding Art waiting for you outside on the green lawn. The walk to your apartment building was long, but the two of you filled the distance with things like classes and what you’d been up to since you last saw each other. Art told you about his upcoming match and what he’d done to prepare for it. You expressed interest in seeing him play, and Art perked up at that like a little puppy.

“I’ll let you know when the date is announced.”

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the gate to your building.

“This is me.”

“Are you sure it’s not for another block?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. You observed him for moment, tracing the soft edge of his eyes, the way his lips flattened against themselves, shaping into a faint, endearing smile. You held out your hand.

“Give me your phone.”

“For what?”

You arched an eye brow. It took him three seconds to arrive at the same thought you had. He scrambled to take his phone out, almost dropping it to the ground. You put your number in along with your name and saved it.

“Here you go. You can move on to something else now.”

“Never.”

Art returned his phone to his pants’ pocket. A need struck you, something you’d wanted to do since he sat down next to you earlier in the night. The urge was overwhelming, your heart hammered in your chest, your skin itched to make it happen. But you didn’t want to overthink anymore. Brushing asides all cautions, you stepped closer so that you could grasp his shoulder and rose on your tiptoes. Your lips softly brushed his cheek, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. You watched as a blush quickly spread all over his neck and ears, tinting his cheeks a faint pink.

“Good night, Art.”

You entered through the waist high iron gate, and walked the distance before hearing Art saying good night. You turned around and waved at him. He held up a hand and reciprocated. Once you made it to your room, you fell onto your bed and sighed. You felt light and happy, already recounting everything that happened tonight in your head. You put a hand on your hammering heart, and only then, you realized that you were still in his hoodie. You pulled the collar up to your nose and inhaled the comforting scent of him. You smiled. It would be yours for now.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! I'd love to read your thoughts on the story!

For updates, please follow @cellophaine-archives

[callahanisms]

ghostface! art donaldson. but also what about ghostface! tashi duncan?

tashi duncan, who's your number one fan. who knows what's best for you. who is always by your side as you go through another turbulent and public breakup.

she's your costar, your rock. you guys came up together. you guys starred in a disney channel sitcom. since then, you've been each other's most valiant supporters. you wouldn't be without tashi duncan.

you guys are frequent collaborators. you got to be a supporting actor in her directorial debut. and she's taken a back seat from acting. the cameras are "too invasive" as she puts it.

tashi knows you're popular. so popular. you've dealt with one too many stalker cases. that's okay. because tashi will take care of you. she'll make sure no one hurts you again.

a little blood never hurt anyone. and she's flawless when doing it too. never leaves a trace. cleans up well. creates whole narratives for why these people disappeared. she goes full joe goldberg when she has the time. note the when.

you're blissfully unaware of the mess, of the way tashi's hands are stained with blood. that's okay. she likes to keep you in the dark, content and mentally well. you look so cute all cuddled up in her bed after an exhausting afterparty at the critics choice awards.

and then you started seeing someone. he's a producer. he's not that significant. this is his first big project, working with you and tashi duncan. but she can't help the way jealousy flares up in her body seeing you two together. he was so in love with you that it was disgusting.

tashi always butted heads with him. it created a hostile environment on set. but she was smart. she played it cool, while your boyfriend took the bait and would react. and soon enough, he was kicked off the project.

your boyfriend noticed the way you and tashi were close. unbearably so. it felt like there was three people in the relationship and he was third wheeling. he overheard the way tashi called you "babe" and "baby," the way she caresses your face, how her touch lingers on you a little longer, how you always wear the perfumes/colognes she picked out for you. you were her little doll and he was having none of it.

which is why she had to get rid of him.

it was a spur of the moment decision. she lost her cool. and messily cleaned everything up, even staging a terribly dry break up text.

you came running into her arms the next day. and she holds you, soothing you as she orders uber eats and opens netflix. "it's okay baby. he didn't deserve you anyways."

"why does this always happen to me?"

"because they don't see your value. they don't see you like i do. and they will never appreciate you or care for you like i do."

[ginnysgraffiti]

✦ . . ．𓈀 @!MASTER.LIST 🎬🤍

TIMOTHÉE

-empire state of mind

-hot marshmallows

-wrapped like a burrito

-popcorn bucket

TIMOTHÉE'S CHARACTERS

(in general)

-kisses

-love declarations

-sex

TAYLOR RUSSELL

-upcoming...

LEE ♡

-first time: imagine

-period cramps: imagine

-type of bf: imagine

-staple the tongue

-kisses

-shower condensation

-breeding kink

-hound sense of smell

-maple syrup

-pick-up sunrise

-the streetlight stalker

-motel discovery

MAREN YEARLY

-best friend's lover

-illness request

LAURIE LAURENCE

-to be loved.

ELIO PERLMAN

-bed time

WILLY WONKA

-first time: imagine

PAUL ATREIDES

-in my visions

-losing my religion

-seeking for relief

-unwanted interruption

HAL

-queen duties

ART DONALDSON

-personal coach

-postponed match

-coach knows better

DANNY

-professional pretext

BENNY CROSS

-kisses

!!BONES AND ALL THEORY!!

-see post

HARRY STYLES (?)

[nottsangel]

challengers masterlist ੈ♡˳

navigation. taglist.

— one shots

ART DONALDSON & PATRICK ZWEIG

just friends - fwb!patrick zweig & bsf!stanford!art donaldson ; you and patrick have been secretly hooking up behind art’s back for months without him suspecting a thing. however, everything changes when art unexpectedly walks in on you both.

want to binge read all of these? click here!

for more thoughts, click here!

— drabbles and thoughts

ART DONALDSON & PATRICK ZWEIG

art and patrick fighting to eat you out

art and patrick trying to win you over

art and patrick taking your virginity

ARTRICK & CAMGIRL!READER

the moodboard

artrick and camgirl!reader

artrick ‘blackmailing’ you because they want to join

camgirl!reader persuading artrick to join

ART DONALDSON

slapping art while riding him

ex-situationship art masturbating to a picture of you

giving art head while he holds your hand

giving art a handjob

art spanking you with a tennis racket

older!art wrapping his arm around your neck

pervy stalker!art

riding art’s nose

coach!art being a pervert

coach!art praising you

art fingering you in public

actress!reader sucking art off when he’s jealous

art humping your leg

using a fleshlight on art

art apologising by letting you sit on his face

public sex with art

PATRICK ZWEIG

grinding on patrick until he cums in his pants

patrick giving you multiple orgasms

patrick pulling your hair while fucking you

car sex with patrick

patrick being a munch

patrick talking you through it

love making with patrick

© nottsangel.tumblr 2024. Do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[stanart4clearskin]

master list !!

────────────────────────

i’m too lazy to write paragraphs so i just write in bullet points and nothing is proofread sorry

currently taking requests! only fluff tho :)

art donaldson blurbs

tutoring part one, part two

marrying art

manipulation

study buddy

frat party

stanford w/ art

frat boy

stalker, stalker 2

head cannons

art and patrick

dating art

little things w/ art, two, three, four

ATP

art during sex

boyfriend art

boyfriend patrick

[artdcnaldson]

I feel like stalker!Art would 10000% do some salt burn type shit

Like he finds out what car is yours, and lets air out of the tire one night. He then swoops in to be the knight in shining armor.. and then he’s in to pursue you

-💫

moaned so loud I broke the sound barrier!!!!

And if I said this is screaming 30s Art to me?? That you’re a sweet little staffer at the tennis club he frequents, so sweet and eager to help out THE Art Donaldson!!!! You cater to his every whim and need, always with a pretty smile, always rewarded with a large tip that he makes you promise not to share with the other members of the staff.

One night your tire is totally flat, leaves you marooned and alone in the parking lot and crying with frustration. It’s just your luck Mr. Donaldson stayed late! That he’s willing to drive you home, that he’ll even buy you some ice cream if it’ll cheer you up. He treats you like a little kid, makes you blush.

You lick at vanilla soft serve in the passenger seat of his car, don’t notice the way his cock swells in his jeans. Show him the way to your apartment because you trust him so much, because he’s so nice, he’s a good guy, you know it. Give him a tiny, shy hug goodbye before you’re hurrying up to the door, sliding the key from beneath an ugly gnome statue.

He waits until you get in, he’s just trying to make sure you’re safe, that you’re okay! Mr. Donaldson is such a sweet guy <3

[senseofnewness]

Need your opinion with something.

I've been writing a Patrick Zweig x stalker!reader fiction (with a lot of Art Donaldson x reader and some hint of Tashi Duncan x reader) for a week and I think I might be done with it tomorrow.

It will be around 18-20k words. But I was wondering if anyonre was willing to read anything that long or should I post it in parts?

The thing is I didn't write it with parts in mind so I might have issues finding a way to divide it.

Thank you for your opinion!

[selfcarecap]

school has been kicking my ass. i’m graduating this spring which is 🥳 but also horrible because i don’t know what i’m going to do since my major is honestly very broad but i’m toying with the idea of being a librarian, which i don’t hate the idea of. and it is my birthday this weekend (the 26th) it’s my 21st!!!!! hate growing up but everyone around me is excited so i can’t help but smile. how are you!!! 💋💋💋 i see you’ve been in your deadpool/wolverine and challengers era. which is honestly so real because art donaldson has been the star of my dreams for months now. - hopeless romantic stalker

Ahh that’s amazing!! Hope you can enjoy the last few months without too much stress <333 and being a librarian sounds soo fun, I’d love to do that. But luckily I’ve got two more years now before I’m done with my MA so I postponed the having to think of a job to do lol. And it’s nice that people around you are excited for your bday🥰 and good, I had the date right then lol 🙂‍↕️ And I’m doing well generally :) I’ve been a bit anxious because uni started but now that the first two weeks are over it should be better but my classes are kind of a mess because I signed up for more than I need and I haven’t decided yet which ones to continue/drop so I’m going to almost twice as many classes as I have to 😩 and yesss Deadpool/Wolverine literally became an obsession lmao, and with challengers it’s weird bc I watched it in like May, didn’t really like it, but now because of a few blogs on tumblr I’m really into it. I’m actually watching it with a friend tonight so I’m excited to see whether I like it any more now lol. And reallll Art is like my ideal man lowkey I love him sm <3