Discover Top Posts Tagged with #samfield

Author's Note: This is my first time writing a fanfic, so any criticism is welcome. English isn't my first language, and I have to use a translator as a tool, so if you see any mistakes, feel free to let me know. I accept requests, and feel free to share any ideas you have.

Art Donaldson x Fem!reader

Warning: a bit of smut, Art is a very needy boyfriend

"Close your eyes!" came a shout from across the room, while hurried footsteps echoed closer, accompanied by nervous laughter. Art held a small Walkman in his sweaty hands, the one he'd worked hard for all summer. It was a 18th birthday present for a special person—for his special someone.

"Can I open my eyes now? I've been like this for five minutes, and the other guests will be here soon." It was a lie; she'd only been covering her eyes for about fifty seconds, but her impatience made her exaggerated, a quality Art loved like everything about her: her impatient nature, her need to be perfect and for everyone to notice it, even though she already was in Art's eyes.

"Stop exaggerating, the party will start in three hours, we have plenty of time."

"Well... you can open them now." With an expectant look he watched as she slowly opened her eyes and a look of joy formed on her face. Art would never understand how this girl who simply appeared in his life one day and from then on he knew he couldn't spend another day without her presence could melt him with a simple smile.

Without a second thought she threw herself at him and wrapped him in a hug of gratitude and he reciprocated by linking his arms around her waist closing the little space that remained between them in which the beats of both hearts echoed in their chests, both Art and she loved those intimate moments where only they existed where the weight of being perfect did not mortify her and the weight of being one of the best tennis players did not torment him.

To Art's displeasure, she slowly moved away from the embrace to take a closer look at her gift. It was a Sony Walkman. When she opened it, she saw a small cassette with a tape that said "Mix tape 1: Close to you." That was her favorite song, the Carpenters version. He knew it, he knew everything about her. "Oh my god, you're such a corny jerk. You always know what I like," she said, laughing. "That's what I live for. I don't know what surprises you. And instead of insulting me, you should kiss your boyfriend."

She didn't hesitate to carefully place the Walkman on her bed and break the distance, erasing the limits between her body and his, placing her hands on Art's warm and blushing cheeks while he held her by the waist and pressed her closer to him, it started as a tender kiss that was then corrupted by Art's hungry tongue that wanted to explore every corner of her mouth, it transformed into a wet and messy kiss, while Art's hands slowly went down from her waist to her butt, massaging and squeezing it as if he were trying to leave his hands printed on it while he felt her bury her hands in his golden curls. The more the kiss increased the more she could feel the bulge that grew and collided with her stomach, how Art's desperation consumed her more and more, until the unfortunate sound of the doorbell brought them out of their trance forcing them to separate their already swollen lips. "Fuck, the party starts in three hours, what the hell is anyone doing here now?" Art huffed as he tried to fix his pants on his aching erection, "You'll have to take care of that yourself, I have to go down and see the guests" and without saying anything else she left before Art could react and stop her, leaving the poor man like a needy puppy in the middle of her room.