the music that played throughout the frat house was loud and obnoxious, but you could barely find it in yourself to care. art's hand was intertwined with yours as he carefully lead you through the sea of sweating bodies. the two of you headed upstairs, ignoring the curious looks you got or the frat brothers cheering art on. he laughed at your pink cheeks, kissing your temple.
"don't mind them," he reassured you. "they're just being dicks about me finally making a move."
you laughed, "have you really been waiting for a year to work up the courage?"
art grinned. "you know i never say things i don't mean."
that night was spent tangled in art's sheets, his lips against every inch of your skin that he could reach. his touch was gentle, but there was a certainness to it. art knew where and how to touch you, almost as if he'd spent years learning and studying your body. your hands tangled into his curls, tugging at the strands just to hear him moan. soft kisses were exchanged every time art increased his pace. your nails dragged down his back, leaving behind bright red marks.
it was late in the night when you snuck out of bed. you quietly got redressed before slipping out of his bedroom. you knew it was wrong to leave without a word, but it was something that had to be done. even though art had confessed his feelings earlier that day, you couldn't trust them. he was a frat boy after all and art was never known for his commitment.
–
"he's ready for you," the receptionist said, tablet in hand. you followed behind her as she led you to the office where your onboarding would take place. you'd recently received a promotion to assistant director, so you'd be working under a new boss.
the woman stopped in front of a plain wooden door. "here we are," she smiles. "if you need anything i'll be just across the way." she gestured towards a desk a few feet from the door. with one last reassuring smile, she was gone.
you stared at the door, bracing yourself for whatever was next. you'd never met mr. donaldson before, but you'd heard the stories. rumors flew around the office that he was generally decent, but after his divorce he'd taken a 180. he no longer smiled, a constant scowl or frown gracing his features. the latest incident was that he sent an intern packing after he'd gotten a coffee order wrong. with a final deep breath, you grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open.
the first thing you noticed was how beautiful the office was. an entire wall was floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the bustling streets of new york city. a solid oak desk sat at the center of the room, decorated with a few picture frames and a tennis ball that seemed oddly out of place. your eyes fell to the chair where the back was facing you. you couldn't see mr. donaldson yet, but you were already intimidated. after gently shutting the door, you shuffled over to the desk.
you stood for a moment, unsure what to say. were you supposed to wait for him to speak first? or should you introduce yourself? did he already know who you were? had he been the one who selected you for the promotion? you were snapped out of your thoughts when the chair suddenly turned, revealing mr. donaldson. it didn't hit you at first. you took in his striking blue and brown eyes, his blonde hair, but it didn't click.
"hello mr. donaldson," you squeaked, your voice octaves higher due to nervousness. "i'm-"
he cut you off before you could properly introduce yourself. "i know who you are." his voice was low and sent a shiver down your spine. "don't you remember me?" his head tilted in a way that was almost like a curious puppy. this man didn't seem at all intimidating like people had made him out to be.
you stammered, "have we met before? i have an awful memory so i'm really sorry if we have met." not even five minutes in and you were making a terrible first impression.
he shook his head, "you really don't remember?" when you shook his head he laughed. "does the name art donaldson ring a bell?"
your eyes widened. "you can't possibly mean..." art nodded, pointing to the tennis ball on his desk. it suddenly all made sense. your cheeks flushed with embarrassment when you remembered the circumstances under which you'd last seen each other; that had been nearly 6 years ago.
art smiled at your flushed cheeks and your knees nearly gave out from under you. back in college art's smile was always cheeky or cute, but now that he had grown it was hotter in a way that you couldn't quite put into words. "if you don't mind taking a seat, there's a few things i'd like to discuss."
you nodded dumbly and quickly sat down on one of the chairs in front of his desk. it was so surreal to see art again and the fact he was your new boss was even weirder. it was a bit jarring that he didn't seem to have any resentment towards you, but perhaps he was just mature and didn't hold onto childish grudges.
while art explained some rules he had and what you'd be doing in your new position, you nodded along. you were hardly paying attention to anything he was saying. his lips had caught your attention a while ago and now that was all you could focus on.
art cleared his throat, "is there something on my mouth?" your eyes quickly flitted back up to his. you shook your head, averting your gaze to the nameplate on his desk. the gleaming gold letters of 'mr. donaldson' stared back at you.
"could i ask you something?" his voice cut through the quiet room. you had a hunch about what he was going to ask, but you let him ask it anyways. you couldn't escape that night forever. "why'd you leave and then avoid me for the rest of college?"
hearing the words out loud made you wince. it made you sound like an outright ass–which you had been. "it's not that easy to explain."
"we have all the time in the world."
you looked up at his face and weren't sure if you had imagined the flash of hurt that passed through his features. had he truly been upset that you left that night? he didn't bother reaching out afterwards, so you figured he hadn't cared. "i didn't believe you."
art raised an eyebrow and you continued. "your confession that night. i hadn't fully believed it."
you knew that if you stopped talking, you wouldn't be able to continue. "i wanted to believe that you liked me, but you were a frat boy with a reputation. i'd never had much experience with guys and i didn't want to get hurt so i left before you could hurt me."
art took in your explanation. it was completely valid, but he couldn't help but think it was a little silly. "don't you think that's a stupid reason?" he watched as you winced at his words. "i mean, that all could've been clarified with a conversation. it was a bit childish of you to just... run away."
"oh." was all you could muster. you felt the shame cover your body like a tight bandage. it was suffocating; it squeezed your heart in a way where you could barely breath. you hadn't intended to walk into this office and come out utterly humiliated.
art sighed and rounded his desk, leaning against it. he was now only a few feet away from you and he towered over you as you sat. neither of you said anything for a few minutes. the receptionist from earlier had walked into the office, dropping off some papers for art to sign. whatever funk the two of you had been in faded and you were quick to leave his office.
even on the drive home you could still feel his eyes on you and if you tried hard enough, you could still remember what if felt like when he kissed you. it was going to be a long work year, but you reminded yourself that the pay was going to make everything worth it.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YOU GUYS!! LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCH AND YOU ARE ALL SO AWESOME AND AMAZING
i like to think when he was younger he did, but once he started living in his car he couldn’t really wash his ass and it hurt his soul. so like yes but also no!
line cook art anon here to say the word!pretty please write a whole blurb
'thank you line cook anon' we all say in unison !! now you may have seen the previous blurb but this is an extra special blurb just for you !!
ash hits the fresh tarmac and fizzles out, a black boot stamping on the spark. 'did he make you go on top too?' drawls a voice, casually, as if discussing the weather.
your brow furrows as you look up from scratching at your nail polish to the only other server outside on their break right now. at your non-answer, she shrugs, 'art. when you slept with him.'
you freeze in surprise, accidentally slicing a strip of nail polish off your thumb and you grimace. 'i didn't sleep with him.' you mutter.
she scoffs, her cigarette smoke clouding the air. 'sure you didn't darling, i see the way you look at him.' you flush red in response. 'you're new right?' and you nod and she steps closer towards you, 'then i'll let you in on a little secret.' you finally look at her, holding her gaze, searching for any malice or teasing but there's just sincerity, closer to concern and it makes your stomach churn. 'the free fries, the lifts home, riding him' she emphasises the last part, raising her well defined eyebrow at you. '...we've all done it. it's what art does.' she flicks her cigarette into the trashcan by the back door and heading back inside.
it's what art does. those four words are ringing through your head throughout the rest of your shift, even when you're getting in art's car for the second time. you're not sure why, it's like you move on autopilot when you see him leaning against his car, his signature smirk on his face as he eyes up like his next meal. art presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before you get in, the smell of cigarettes and musk floating round the car. the drive to his place is silent again, as you battle with whether or not to force him to turn the car around or whether to accept that the best sex of your life means being one of many servers on his roster.
but as art comes round to open the car door, and you catch sight of the scruff of his chin, the way he looks at you like you've hung the stars, how his brawny arm snaked round your waist in a gesture that now feels familiar to you, the words of the older server dissipate from your head and all you can focus on is how good his chapped lips feel against yours.
the minute the door is locked behind him, he's closing you in, tilting your chin up to face him, 'i missed you so much doll' he murmurs, and before you can protest it's been less than 24hrs, he's pressing a quick kiss to your lips and you immediately relax. then another kiss and another and another and another, in between stripping each other of shirts and trousers till you're lying flat on your back on his bed, left in your bra and panties.
art's sucking dark marks on your stomach as his face makes it way down to your cunt, his hands gripping your knees to keep your legs open. 'you wear this for me, huh?' he teases, nosing at the lace on your panties, a sly look on his face but it fades when he notices your expression. 'baby?' his hold on you relaxes slightly and he lifts his face from between your thighs. you chew your lip anxiously, 'do you sleep with the other servers?' you say quietly, voice wobbling slightly.
art blinks at you for a moment, perplexed. 'i did.' he shrugs, 'why?'. you frown, an odd feeling of hurt washing over you, it felt different to hear it from him. swallowing thickly, 'i thought...' his thumb rubs soothing circles on your knee, giving you the confidence to continue, '...i thought i was special.' the words seem to suck all the air out of his bare apartment and you both lie on his bed, frozen and stunned into silence.
after what feels like hours, art starts to slowly press his lips to your thigh, 'baby...' slowly moving higher and higher, 'baby...you are special.' you huff, unconvinced and he chuckles. 'i swear! you're the only girl for me.' he bites at your thigh gently and you gasp, 'art!'. with his imploring gaze, you nearly crumble, 'are you really gonna be mad at me because i've slept with people before you?' and your face twists in thought as you mull it over, art thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. 'i suppose...' you relent and he grins, fingers hooking into your lacy underwear and pulling it down your legs, 'thank you doll.'
he presses his face to your pussy, inhaling you. his tongue teases your clit and you whimper, before he starts to suck on the sensitive bud and you stifle a growl. he continues to lavish your clit before his tongue starts to lick at your entrance and a shiver runs up your spine as you nod feverishly. art's tongue penetrates your hole, lapping at your gummy walls and you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head. his tongue in your cunt felt so much better than his cock splitting you open before, more intimate, more real, more special.
his face is buried in between your legs, slurping like a starving animal and your moans are getting increasingly louder. gripping his curls, you push his head deeper into your folds and he relishes in it, art's nose brushing your clit and making your stomach flip. 'right there...' you pant, as the tip of his tongue hit the spot inside you that made you see stars. his gravelly laugh in response made your folds vibrate as he plunged his tongue deeper, hitting that spot over and over again. 'art- art-ngh- gonna-' and starts to tonguefuck you even more aggressively as your legs start to shake, 'oh- fuck- i'm- cumming- please-' as your clear liquid spurts out of you, and he laps it up happily, chin soaked with your juices. 'good girl' he praises, kissing your thigh before moving to kneel atop you, and you smile dazily at the compliment, still on your orgasm high.
'you still with me doll?' he murmurs gently as he frees his half-hard cock from his boxers. you nod, 'yeah...please...art.' and he smiles, 'you keep talking to me baby, got it?' 'uh huh' you grunt as he slowly pushes into your soaked cunt, 'so wet for me' he groans as he enters you, feeling your walls clench around his dick. slowly, art starts to shift his hips, his cock moving in and out of your pulsating pussy and you moan at the stimulation, eyes glazed over.
art's hands find your ass, lifting your legs up so the tip of his cock can hit deeper inside you and you gasp, 'oh- shit- mmph-' as he starts to pick up the pace. 'yes- yes- yes- yes-' is all you can garble out over art's huffs and whines, his head thrown back, 'your pussy feels so good like this- ngh- doll'. you nod dumbly, lost in the throngs of pleasure.
teetering on the edge of overstimulation, you start to feel your second orgasm incoming. 'art!' you screech as he fills you to the brim, 'oh god- please-' but before you can let him know your second orgasm hits you like a truck. you're babbling incoherently as your squirt around his cock, the only thing decipherable is his name over and over as clear liquid soaks the sheets. 'oh- fuck- felt you clench there baby-' art grunts before you feel his hot seed spurt into you too as he cums, prolonging your orgasm. he coaches you through it as you shake, 'that's it...so pretty doll...so good for me...' he purrs encouragingly as he watches you come undone.
he puts your legs down and slowly pulls out of you, watching in delight as your hole twitches, a mixture of his and your fluid dripping out. he slides off the bed and gets you a glass of water, stroking your hair as you sip gratefully, 'you're the only one for me doll...i promise' and you smile dopily at that, satisified in more ways than one.
who was going to tell me that tomorrow in fact is not the 26th and also not the one year anniversary of challengers… THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR BEING STUPID AS FUCK AND DYSLEXIC
a/n: this came to me in a dream so the plot is kinda weird
frat!art x stalker-ish!reader
perhaps you knew you were being naive when you agreed to have a no strings relationship with him. maybe a small part of you thought that he might change his mind during your time together and possibly even love you. it always worked out in the movies, so why wouldn't it work for you?
the first night you had spent with art had been magical. he was unlike any other guy you'd been with during your time at stanford. even though he was the stereotypical obnoxious frat boy, behind closed doors he was something else entirely. he kissed you like it was his last dying wish, as if that kiss was the only thing he’d ever wanted in life. art's hands were gentle against your skin as he touched you; they were like a feather that traced over your features. he'd only be rough when you asked him to, always making sure that you were okay with anything he was doing.
maybe it was the way he treated you that made you fall for him. he was a genuinely nice guy, and somewhere in your brain you confused manners for love. outside of the bedroom, art didn't pretend that you didn't exist. at parties he'd come over and say hello, making friendly conversation. during classes he'd sit by you and lend you pencils whenever you forgot yours. it was hard to judge where the line started and ended because the two of you had grown so close. that's why when he wanted to end things so that he could start having a serious girlfriend, you were lost.
hadn't he treated you like a girlfriend? the two of you went on dates, held hands during movies, and kissed every time you walked under a bridge. hadn't that been art telling you he wanted more? hadn’t that been him going beyond no strings attached?
you watched as art and his actual girlfriend held hands around campus. you watched as they did everything that the two of you had done. it made you feel sick. every time their boisterous laugh rung through quiet halls of the school, you wanted to take a tennis racket to their beautiful faces.
it wasn't fair that art had acted like he was your boyfriend, just to leave like the months had meant nothing. you didn't even notice when you'd started taking residence outside his dorm window at night. you watched through his open window as he kissed his girlfriend the way he'd once kissed you. you watched as the two of them stumbled towards art's bed, giggling their heads off.
in some way it was a sort of sick torture watching the two of them; mainly you just watched him. you watched as art would play with her hair as they cuddled in bed. sometimes you'd imagine you were in her place, what it'd feel like to have his hands in your hair. on days when art closed the blinds, you'd walk past his dorm just to hear what they were doing inside. you wanted to hear how she made him moan. you needed to know if she was better than you.
you took some pride in knowing that his sounds were strained; they sounded fake. you started writing him letters about how he deserved so much better. he deserved a girlfriend who could treat him well. you dropped them off while he was away at tennis practice, signing them with a kiss.
—
it had come to you as a bit of a shock when art had broken up with his girlfriend a few months later. you hadn't expected them to end things so soon, but you couldn't be happier. within days art was calling you up and soon enough you were crawling back into his bed.
after a long night of being tangled in his sheets, the two of you cuddled. art's hands ran through your hair, combing the tangled locks. "why'd you guys break up?" you asked as casually as you could muster. not only were you running on after glow, early that day when you'd entered his dorm you saw your letters sitting on his desk. it was surprising that he hadn’t thrown them away like any sensible person would’ve.
you felt him shrug behind you. "don't know. we just didn't really click all that well." you could tell he wasn't telling the whole truth, but you didn't want to pry.
"that sucks," you said, sympathetically. art snorted, burying his face into your hair.
"i know you were happy when you got my text." your cheeks flushed pink. he knew you too well.
you shrugged. "maybe," you muttered meekly.
"and i know they're from you." he said, his free hand tracing shapes along your thigh.
"know what's from me?" you asked, confused. there's no way he could've figured out the letters, right? after all they’re only been two; they were vague enough to not reveal who you were.
art pinched your thigh lightly and laughed when you squeaked at him. "don't play dumb," he whispered into your ear. his breath was hot against your skin and you shivered. "the letters. i know they're from you."
you could feel your blood go cold. had this all been a trap to get you expelled? maybe even report you to the police?
"don't worry," he said quickly. "i don't really care. it's a little flattering."
"flattering?" you stammered, pulling away from him and sitting up. you could hardly meet his eyes, but when you did he was smiling ear to ear—it was confusing. people would usually be frightened or angry, but art was neither. he looked as if you'd just told him some form of good news. not that the girl in his bed was some form of a stalker.
art nodded, "i was testing you, you know." at your bewildered look he continued. "i treated you like a girlfriend and then broke it off on purpose. i wanted to see if you'd be upset and want me back."
you took a moment to process his words. "well did i pass?" you asked awkwardly. this whole situation was beyond confusing and a little weird, but art didn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seemed to like it.
art nodded. "and that's why i want you to be my girlfriend."
omg wait can you do an atp mood board of that brainrot meme where it’s that italian stick and like the espresso ballerina and i think there’s a third one but i dont remember what it is
ever since moving to new york you struggled to find any semblance of a routine, but the one thing you could count on was your favorite bakery. it was just down the street from your apartment and you frequented it whenever you weren’t running late to work. your favorite part about it was that the moment you stepped foot into the threshold, you’d smell the fresh batch of cookies that had been whipped up or the loaf of sourdough that was in the oven. the fact the baker—and only employee—was cute was just an added bonus.
sometimes, even when you were late to work or weren’t even hungry, you’d stop off at the bakery to pick up something small just so you could see him. (you’d learned his name was art around the third time you’d come in. he said you were his first regular customer.) most days you’d buy a cookie that you could snack on throughout the work day, but if you were feeling peckish you’d buy a sandwich and a brownie.
art knew what kind of cookies you liked, how you wanted your sandwiches, and what part of the brownie was your favorite by heart. sometimes when he didn’t want to drag himself out of bed at 4 am to start prepping his various batters and doughs, he’d think of you and how disappointed you’d be without your baked goods.
about a month into you coming into the bakery consistently, art started to give you extra goodies for free. sometimes it was a new dessert recipe he was trying out or he’d just give you your entire order for free. this went on for only a few days before you started to feel guilty about it.
the bell on the door signaled your arrival to art. he looked up from the back kitchen and smiled. you smiled in return, laughing at the flour that dusted his nose and cheeks. with pink ears, art hastily rubbed at his face, removing the white powder.
he washed his hands and made his way over to you and the register. “the usual?” he asked, taking in your outfit. he noticed that you weren’t wearing your standard work outfit and donned more casual clothing instead which, was unusual for a tuesday.
“yes, but-” you began, but were swiftly cut off by art. he shook his head, “this is on the house. i insist.”
you sighed, knowing that there was no way to talk him out of this. “well, is there any way i could pay you back? anything i could do for you?”
art pondered your offer for a moment. had he thought about you asking him this question before? absolutely! he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get closer to you; to shift the relationship between customer and worker to possibly friends. “do you have work today?” he asked, giving a pointed look towards your clothes.
you shook your head, “my boss gave us the day off for our mental health.”
art smiled one of his crooked grins and you thought your legs might give out from under you. sure you’d seen his face before, but never for this long. it was strange to you how someone so beautiful was a baker in a busy city rather than being a model who strutted down a catwalk.
“do you want to learn how i bake?” he offered, his voice suddenly shy. you’d never seen art so nervous before. he was always smiley and energetic, so this was endearing to see.
“you’d really want to teach me?” you asked. in response he nodded eagerly. “of course i do. after all you’re my favorite customer.”
—
the first thing art showed you how to make was his famous chocolate chip cookies. you’d always assumed they were like any other cookie recipe, but he was quick to correct you on that. the thing that made his cookies special were that he used browned butter instead of regular for a nutty, caramelized flavor and chocolate shavings instead of chips. while art worked on browning the butter, he had you chopping up a bar of chocolate.
when it came time to mixing the dough, he let you do it but eventually had to take over when your arms got too tired. you watched him as he leaned over the bowl, spatula in hand as he folded the chocolate shavings in. you’d never think something as mundane as mixing could be so attractive, but art made it the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. his biceps nearly bulged from the sleeves of his black shirt and the look of concentration on his face made you want him to bend you over the counter top. you knew how perverted your thoughts were, but little did you know art had a similar track mind.
while you were looking through the pantry for some seasonings that art needed, he couldn’t help but stare at your ass as you bent over to pick something off the floor. he thought about coming behind you and fucking you senseless in his pantry, but he knew that would be wrong and violate so many health and safety codes. every time you would bite your lip as art explained something to you, he nearly lost his train of thought.
the two of you danced around each other, never admitting to the shared attraction. every so often art would place his hand on your lower back as he passed by and you tried to hide the shiver that racked down your spine. sometimes your hand would linger for a few extra seconds whenever he handed you something and you’d look directly into his eyes before taking the item and going back to work. the last hour of cleaning up the bakery and preparing to close had been completely silent. the two of you had been too wound up to actually say anything.
—
“so i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as the two of you walked towards your apartment. art hadn’t initially planned on escorting you home, but once he found out you had walked here, he knew he had to.
you nodded, “yeah. do you make lemon bars? I've been craving one lately.”
he shook his head, "i'll start thinking of a recipe. i've been meaning to expand my menu."
eventually the two of you reached your apartment door where the both of you lingered. neither of you wanted to go, but neither of you wanted to initiate anything in fear that the other didn’t reciprocate those feelings.
you sighed, “well, this is me.” you awkwardly fidgeted with your keys. the jangle was the only sound for a few moments.
art’s eyes flitted from the door and back to you before he took a step closer, causing you to take a step back, your spin now pressed flush against the wood. you looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure what he was going to do. in your head you’d been wanting him to kiss you, but now as that moment drew closer, you were increasingly nervous. it didn’t help that you could feel your palms start to sweat and your body get hot through the layers you were wearing.
he cupped your cheek, his hands surprisingly rough for someone who baked all day. art’s calluses brushed against your skin. this thumb gently traced your lower lip, picking up any lipgloss that had been there. he swallowed. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard before.
you nodded dumbly, unable to conjure up any words. he laughed softly, smiling at you. “i need you to use your words.” you nearly came in your pants.
“you can kiss me,” you said, the words coming out as more of a squeak. art smiled and dipped his face down before pressing his lips to yours. they were soft against your own as he kissed you like you were something precious. his other hand gently wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
you gasped at the sudden move and art used the parting of your lips to slide his tongue into your mouth. you’d never really liked kissing with tongue, but art was something else entirely. the way he licked into you like he was eating you out had you nearly pulling his hair out. the hand that was on your face traveled up to your hand, tapping it gently to remind you to loosen your grip. you started to pull away to apologize, but art’s mouth chased yours and he was kissing you again.
the two of you made out in the hallway like a couple of horny teenagers until one of your neighbors walked by, reminding the two of you where you were. you quickly broke apart, catching your breaths.
“i should probably get going,” art said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. as much as he wanted an invite into your apartment, he knew he wouldn’t be able to spend a night with you and manage to wake up at 4 am.
you nodded, “you have a long day ahead of you.” with one final kiss, art made his way back to his apartment and you entered yours. that night art thought of a new lemon bar recipe that he'd eventually name after you.
tag list: @mattstimberlands @lexiiscorect @matchpointfaist @tigerlillizz @severe-mental-illness @coolgrl111 @spiritkissin @liabiamiakiawia
i think about the fact that art changed for the adidas party while patrick didn’t. it truly shows their two personalities because art is eager to impress tashi so he put on a nice shirt while patrick is self assured and already knows tashi is going to like him so he doesn’t feel the need to change.
pixelskylines
kaledo-art
vaporwave
areudirty
andulkaphoto
