⋆˙⟡ don’t you dare stop: art donaldson x afab!reader.
summary: how can dinner with some friends turn this way? as soon as everyone was out, you were straddling art’s hips to grind onto him. tease him, torture him just because he’s so pretty when he begs for you.
cw: +18. mdni. established relationship. teasing. degrading / praising. dry-humping. coming in underwear. begging. submissive!art. reblog is a creator’s best-friend, thank you! (this is a repost from my previous blog, i am not stealing it!)
You were supposed to be at dinner with some friends, something civil and respectable. One hand resting politely on your wine glass while you and Art pretended like you weren’t thinking about the way your thighs brushed every time he leaned close. But dinner ended and everyone left. And somehow the dim lights of his apartment, the afterglow of cheap wine, the slow hum of the record player spinning something bluesy—it all shifted.
And now you were here; straddling him on his living room couch, your dress hitched up over your hips, lace panties soaked and rubbing against the bulge straining in his jeans. His hands gripped your thighs like he was holding onto the edge of a cliff, and his breath hitched every time your hips rolled down, dragging your heat over him again and again.
He wasn’t inside you but you were going to kill him all the same.
“Fuck,” Art gasped, voice already wrecked, head thrown back against the couch cushion. “You’re gonna kill me.” You smiled slowly and rocked your hips again, deliberately slow, just to hear him choke.
“I’m not even doing anything,” you said sweetly, hands braced on his shoulders, your mouth grazing the shell of his ear. “You’re the one all worked up, baby.” You could feel the tension, the hardness of his cock under through the layer of clothing.
“Don’t call me that,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut. “Not when you’re doin’ this. Not when I’m this close already—fuck—you’re evil.”
You ground down harder, your clothed pussy dragging over the ridge of his cock through his jeans. You felt how thick he was, how wet the fabric had gotten with both your arousal, how close to breaking he really was. “But you like it,” you whispered, the slightest of mocking in your tone.
Art shivered beneath you, his hands twitched on your thighs like he wanted to move them; grab you, flip you, pin you, but didn’t dare. You’d set the pace, you’d told him not to touch. And he, sweet thing that he was, was still trying so hard to be good for you.
“You’re a menace,” he said through his teeth. You rolled your hips again, slower this time, your clit catching just right on the curve of his zipper. It made your lashes flutter, your mouth drop open with a curse. “Oh,” you moaned softly, letting the sound break loose and land right in his ear. “You feel so big, even like this. Poor thing. Can’t even help it, can you?”
Art whimpered; full-body, actual whimper.
And it lit you on fire. “Oh my God,” you whispered, grinning. “Did you just make that sound for me?”
“Stop teasing,” he said, voice strangled. “You want me to stop?” You froze your hips entirely, smug. “You sure about that?” His hands tightened on your thighs. “Don’t you fucking dare stop.” You tsked, your breath hot against his flushed cheek. “Now, now. That doesn’t sound like asking nicely.”
Art’s eyes snapped open, wide and pleading, pupils blown dark with lust. “Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop. I’ll be good, I swear. Just… fuck, please keep going.” Your lips brushed his, just the ghost of a kiss. “Good boy.”
He whimpered again. And you started moving—slow, torturously, dragging circles of your hips against his, your slick of your pussy soaking through the lace and smearing onto the denim of his jeans with every grind. Your clit rubbed against his zipper, stimulating every nerve.
“Does it hurt, baby?” you murmured, watching his face twist in pleasure. “Being this hard, and you still can’t come?”
“It’s torture,” he said, voice cracked. “You’re fuckin’ torturing me.”
“I thought you liked that.” You replied with amusement on the edge of your voice. “I do.” His hands shook where they gripped you. “I fucking love it.”
You rocked harder, more purposefully now, grinding down like you meant to make him come just like this; hands off, clothes on, utterly helpless beneath you. And oh, he was helpless. His mouth hung open, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust, his hips twitching like they wanted to meet yours but couldn’t quite find the rhythm. Like he wanted to thrust, wanted to fuck; but didn’t know how when you weren’t letting him do anything.
You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you.
“Feel that?” you said, rolling your hips with extra pressure on the downstroke. “That’s my pussy rubbing all over your cock. You’re not even inside me and I’m still fucking you through your jeans.”
“God!” Art gasped, eyes rolling back. “You gonna come like this?” you taunted, voice syrupy sweet. “Like a needy little virgin with his first girlfriend grinding on his lap?”
That broke him. He groaned so loud it echoed, his hips bucking once before he slammed them back down into the couch, visibly trying to hold back. His fingers dug bruises into your thighs, but still... still—he didn’t break your rules. “Oh my god,” you breathed. “You are gonna come, aren’t you? Just from this?”
“Please let me,” he begged, voice hoarse. “Please, I’ll do anything... fuck, it hurts, I need it! Please let me come in my jeans, I need to, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it.” You leaned in close, nose brushing his, lips barely grazing. “Do it.”
His body snapped like a rubber band; one harsh, shaking grind up into you and he was gone: moaning deep, ragged, hips twitching as he came hard in his pants, completely undone beneath you. You felt the heat spread through the denim, the throb of his cock trapped against his boxers and your soaked panties, the way he panted like he couldn’t get enough air.
“Jesus,” he breathed, eyes wide, chest heaving. “That was…” You smirked. “Hot?” He laughed, ragged and dazed, cheeks pink and eyes still half-lidded. “I was gonna say humiliating, but yeah. That too.” You rolled your hips one last time, teasing. He groaned, sensitive now, squirming beneath you. “Look at you,” you whispered. “Came in your jeans like a teenage boy... just for me.”
“You’re evil,” he said, eyes dark. “You know that, right?” You kissed him then, slow, filthy, claiming. He melted under you like he always did, hands finally lifting to rest on your hips. Not controlling and not demanding but just there.
“You know I’m not done with you, right?” you murmured against his mouth. He smiled against your lips, dazed and breathless.
line cook!art who lights his cigarette with the flames of the cooker before going out for his break and you think it's the hottest thing you've ever seen
line cook!art who always makes extra fries for you whenever it's on an order, sometimes you let him playfully feed you one
line cook!art who fucks you slow and tender, who loves nothing more than watching you slowly come undone on his cock
line cook!art who steals alcohol from the kitchen and the two of you share the bottle after a long shift
line cook!art who makes you a mean grilled cheese for breakfast when you wake up tangled in his sheets
line cook!art who deftly ties your hair up before you give him a blowjob, cracking jokes about 'health and safety'
line cook!art who after you sleep together, he always moves your tickets to the front of the line
line cook!art who has got a sleeper build and you only notice his arms when he's grabbing stuff from the back or leaning on the doorframe
line cook!art who doesn't eat anything on shift because he's 'only hungry for your pussy'
NOTES — been deep in my mike faist era for the longest time and i’m so obsessed w art it’s bad, so here we are! hope you enjoy <3.
WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
needy as fuck. he’ll grab his shirt that had been tossed to the floor to clean you up quickly before tossing it back onto the floor and just wrapping himself around you, keeping his head on your chest.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he looooves his arms, he always liked them, but maybe how much you like them is what made them his favorite. he’s obsessed with your legs, he loves the way they feel when they’re wrapped around his head while he’s eating you out or how they feel wrapped around his waist when he’s pounding into you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he loves to cum on your tits. it’s his favorite place to cum, other than inside of you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
the two of you met in college, when he was much less experienced, so one time when patrick is visiting he recruits him into teaching him how to fuck you better. art knew he was alright but he wanted to be great for you.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
not super experienced, sure he’d fooled around some before he met you but that’s about it. with some help from patrick he definitely knows what he’s doing.
F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)
cowgirl. he’s a tit guy and loves that he can see your tits bouncing in his face while you’re riding him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
it can go either way, usually he’s a little on the goofy side, but sometimes, after a bad match he’s not in the mood to be goofy.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
not clean shaved by any means but he keeps everything under control.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
the most romantic. showering you with love and affection is all that he wants to do <3.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
used to jerk off so often, but as the two of you got older he did it less and less but maybe that’s because you were always there to do it for him.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
praise kink (giving or receiving), size kink, spit kink, little bit of a mommy kink if he’s feeling really needy.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
his dorm, his car (but only if parked in a decently secluded place), or the shower.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
winning gets him going, the adrenaline from the game and from winning gets the best of him every time.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
no choking, you specifically, every once in a while he’d be okay with you lightly squeezing his throat while you’re on top of him riding him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
definitely prefers giving, he’d spend as long as you let him finding out what makes you tick, exploring every inch of your cunt, but he’d never turn down a blowjob if offered.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
both! but usually fast and rough.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
he loves them. a quickie before a match or before you leave for class, always put you both in a good mood.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
yes and no, it just depends on what you or he wanted to try. but he’d always at least consider it for a while if you were to ask to try something new.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
2-3 rounds usually, sometimes it could be 4. he lasts a decent while, as long as he gets you off first then he’ll let himself cum, though sometimes he’s cum in his pants when he’s eating you out but really it’s a win-win situation.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he’ll use your vibe on you every once in a while but usually he’s not huge on toy usage. but he’s not completely against it either.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
he gets better at it over time but you’re usually the one doing all the teasing instead of him.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
so loud, he’s always whimpering and whining and moaning in your ear.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
just like patrick, he’d try and feel put how you felt about having a threesome with patrick, because at the end of the day, whether they’d admit it or not they’re not complete without the other but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less, because trust that man to be absolutely obsessed with you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
a good 5-6 inches soft, and pretty girthy too. and he knows just how to use it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
pretty high. he’s obsessed with you and obsessed with fucking you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
oh he’s out like a light. his eyes are droopy when he’s cleaning you up but the moment his head falls onto your chest, he’s done for.
maybe it's the dodge mason effect, but i really see art as a small town boy. he lives with his grandma who makes the best sweet tea around and besides tennis, which is severely overshone by football, all there is to do is ride around dirt roads in his truck that's older than him.
🍑 atlanta, ga
out of the three of them, tashi's a city girl (except she's actually from a suburb close enough to claim she's from atl cough dunwoody cough alpharetta cough). went to public school but technically it's a charter school so they get plenty of funding and their tennis team has been to state several times. backs the hawks through the good and the bad. pretty as a peach !
🍍 charleston, sc
this old money rich white boy is 100% from charleston. specifically, mount pleasant. his parents own a boat that he's been day drinking on since 15 and he is the shittiest driver you know despite driving an aston martin.
– THANK YOU FOR 500!! ily guys thank you for your support, i appreciate every single one of you truly 🥹 this is pretty simple, just fluff and domesticity. barely proofread because i'm me :p also feedback (on all my works) is appreciated so please feel free
ꢾ꣒ everyone knew that patrick and art were best friends, they were always together. tennis matches, classes, parties, you name it. it was nearly impossible for them to be apart for longer than an hour.
ꢾ꣒ but nobody knew they were together together. behind closed doors, hands were all over each other and lips locked. soft 'i love you's' whispered into each other's ears.
ꢾ꣒ patrick didn't care about people knowing but his partner did, it was something art wasn't ready for and he respected that.
ꢾ꣒ when patrick left for tour, art had a hard time adjusting. he didn't really have any friends aside from his boyfriend and tashi, who was always busy with tennis.
ꢾ꣒ so patrick encouraged him to join extracurriculars aside from the tennis team, convincing him that it would help broaden his network and all that stuff.
ꢾ꣒ that's how art ended up at your baking club, he didn't know how to bake but it was either this or the robotics club. you assured him that that's okay, he's here to learn anyways.
ꢾ꣒ it was you, him and a few more people that would meet up atleast twice a month at the assigned members' house. not his, seeing as he lived in the dorms.
ꢾ꣒ you were patient with him which he appreciated, you didn't make him feel dumb for struggling to follow even the simplest instructions neither did you make him feel out of place for being a man learning how to bake. (it was the 2000s, ok)
ꢾ꣒ one night, he dreamt about you in a way that made his heart race until he woke up. he was in a mood for the entire day after that, feeling so guilty because you were his friend and well, he has a boyfriend.
ꢾ꣒ he talked to patrick about it, not wanting to keep anything from him but he was surprised to hear his boyfriend be so casual about it. "it's fine, it was just a dream, it'll pass. plus you're allowed to find other people attractive."
ꢾ꣒ and art hoped it would pass, until it had been two months since and all it did was grew. into a real, stupid crush on you. he couldn't help the way his cheeks grew red or the way his heart skipped a beat whenever you would come near him during your club meetings.
ꢾ꣒ when patrick came back from tour, art couldn't stop himself from tearing up out of guilt. clutching the latter's shirt tightly and furiously apologizing for feeling this way.
ꢾ꣒ that's when they opened up the conversation about the possibility of art being polyamorous.
ꢾ꣒ the next club meeting, which was held at yours again, art brought patrick with him. and when patrick saw you, he understood almost immediately why art was so into you.
ꢾ꣒ despite your disheveled hair, dirty apron and streaks of flour on your cheek, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. even surpassing his previous crush on tashi duncan.
ꢾ꣒ when art saw his reaction, he felt a burn in his chest. not out of jealousy but rather at the idea of extending their love to you, if you accepted.
ꢾ꣒ you and art decided to bake a cake together while patrick spectated, he's not to be trusted in the kitchen (they learned that the hard way)
ꢾ꣒ art stood on your right while patrick on the other, you were in the middle of them whisking the cake mix.
ꢾ꣒ patrick dipped a finger into the mixture before placing it into his mouth, causing art to softly glare at him for his lack of manners but the look was disregarded.
ꢾ꣒ "so... has my boyfriend been a good club member?"
ꢾ꣒ you couldn't help the way your breath hitched, glancing between the two of them with wide eyes. "boyfriend?"
ꢾ꣒ "aw, you don't talk about me, artie?"
ꢾ꣒ you stood there silently as embarrassment creeped all over your body. you had this idea that maybe art was single and into you, but now his boyfriend was right there, telling you all about their relationship.
ꢾ꣒ patrick immediately clocked your reaction, grinning down at you. "you like him, don't you?"
ꢾ꣒ you swear you nearly died from choking on your own saliva.
ꢾ꣒ "don't worry, sweetheart. he likes you too, a lot"
ꢾ꣒ things escalated quite quickly from then on, the three of you spending most days together at your house or on the tennis court, art walking you to your classes almost everyday and going out whenever patrick is home from tour.
ꢾ꣒ art slept over a lot at yours, his arm tucked under your head and the other draping around your waist while your laptop was on your bedside table, camera on and patrick sleeping on the screen.
ꢾ꣒ it was a little hard to navigate because you made sure to tread carefully as to not leave anyone out but for the most part, it was comfortable and sweet.
ꢾ꣒ patrick was loud and outgoing, art was more introverted and gentle while you were the one that kept the balance between their somehow similar yet contrasting personalities.
ꢾ꣒ you kept patrick in line and helped art learn how to put himself first.
ꢾ꣒ everyone thought that you were dating only one of them, which was fair seeing as how they saw you the most with art
ꢾ꣒ you didn't mind, although it was a little disheartening because you wanted people to know that patrick was your boyfriend too.
ꢾ꣒ and because no one knew patrick was in a relationship, he had a lot of people coming up to him and asking him out.
ꢾ꣒ art had enough one day when the two of you overheard a group of friends objectifying talking about patrick.
ꢾ꣒ when patrick walked up to the two of you before his game, their conversation only got more loud and obnoxious in hopes to catch his attention and art couldn't stop himself from pulling the brunette in for a very passionate kiss. "you're cute when you're jealous, donaldson"
ꢾ꣒ patrick played the entire game with a smirk on his face while art had his head nuzzled into your neck in embarrassment, "why did i do that?"
ꢾ꣒ after graduating university, art joined patrick in going pro, often travelling together.
ꢾ꣒ you opened a small baking business that you would often operate inside your shared apartment until you've saved up enough to rent a place for a small bakery.
ꢾ꣒ when the two boys are home, art, being the sweet boy he is, would help you with orders while patrick is in charge of choosing a movie and what to get for takeout.
ꢾ꣒ although patrick gets bored pretty easily especially when you two were taking long in the kitchen, he'd sneak in and try to distract the two of you. snaking his arms around your waist and trail kisses down from your jaw to your neck.
ꢾ꣒ of course he doesn't want art to feel left out so he'd remove one arm around your waist to reach over and squeeze art's behind, earning him a handful of flour thrown onto his pretty face.
ꢾ꣒ it's a little unconventional sure, but you wouldn't have it any other way.