#art donaldson concept

[nottsangel]

art cums the second u slap him for the first time when ur on top

he moans and begs u to hit him harder and degrade him for being such a fucking loser ughhhhhhh

warnings: smut 18+, riding, creampie, face slapping, degradation

it’s only been a few minutes but art already has to bite his swollen lip in order not to cum at the sight of you rolling your hips on top of him, tits bouncing up and down. the sounds of moans fill the room— not yours though, but his, coupled with a string of curse words and your name repeatedly spilling from his mouth.

“baby, ‘m gonna— ‘m gonna cum s-“ art begins but his face abruptly meets the palm of your hand, slapping him on the cheek and leaving a red mark on his skin as a whimper leaves his lips. “you gonna cum already? fuck, you’re so useless art.” you hiss, not even near your own orgasm yet as your hips increase in pace, nails digging into his chest.

“harder, p-please.” art pleads, causing you to furrow your brows. “what?” “i— i want you to slap me again, please, baby.” you scoff at his desperation, feeling a surge of power as you gaze down at him— his blue eyes barely open, his plump lips parted, and his blonde hair clinging to his forehead, sweat trickling down his flushed face.

“so fuckin’ pathetic.” you sneer with a condescending tone before sticking your fingers into his mouth and forcing him to suck on them, “god, you’re such a fucking loser” you remove your spit-drenched digits from his mouth and drag his own saliva over his face, making a mess everywhere before your palm strikes his face with force once more, but even harder this time, the stinging sensation through his skin igniting a feeling of ecstasy throughout his entire body.

“oh my fucking god” art moans with his eyes closed before you suddenly feel a familiar pool of warmth deep inside of you, his hands tightly gripping your hips with all their might. “poor thing, couldn’t hold it any longer, huh?” he merely hums in response, unable to form any coherent sentences as he comes down from his high.

“‘m so sorry, baby. just… feels too fuckin’ good.” he murmurs, chest heaving up and down before you speed up again, bouncing up and down on his cock as his warm sperm drips down the insides of your thighs. hitched breaths escape his mouth as his brows knit together and his muscles tense from the intense overstimulation he’s experiencing. “so you’re sorry, huh? then shut the fuck up and help me cum.”

ੈ♡˳

[buckysteve]

Challengers (2024), dir. Luca Guadagnino // Joan Tierney, The Elektra Complex & Matthew Aucoin and Sarah Ruhl, Eurydice

[jesuistrestriste]

art is the MESSIEST kisser ever like if u make out his spit is literally everywhere. like he'll kiss u on the mouth then keep on kissing ur neck but w the wettest kisses ever. and i JUST KNOW he def drools. like when u give him head and his head is resting against a pillow, he's so lost in it that he can't even think. like the only thing he can do anymore is whimper and moan like a little bitch. and when u look at him u see him drooling all over the pillow😭

art donaldson has a messy mouth. he drools when it feels too good, he kisses with almost too much tongue when he's desperate, and his warm, eager lips are always on your skin whenever he gets a chance to touch you properly.

he practically salivates like a thirsty puppy on a hot day. it pools under his tongue whenever he catches a glimpse of the more intimate areas of your soft skin; the nape of your neck, your stomach, your inner thighs. and he has to try desperately to swallow it down when you two are in public and he can't get his lips on you.

the first time you and art made out, it was very sloppy. you thought this mightve been a result of minor inexperience on his part, or nervousness, or excitement, so you let it happen. you let him moan into your open mouth and grab at your shirt while he slid his pink tongue over yours. you let his sticky saliva mix with yours as your mouths mashed together. you let him kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until he came in his pants.

the whole ordeal lasted about 7 minutes.

after that, you had assumed that—in time—he'd get more reserved with his mouth as you two continued to be intimate.

but this didn't happen.

if anything, he only got more comfortable with you, and thus only became more orally-fixated and messy with his mouth.

he liked to suck on your fingers during sex.

he liked to slather your arousal with his spit when he went down on you.

he liked to kiss you wetly all over your body before bed.

he liked yearned for it all.

when you'd give him head, your slick lips bobbing over his tip and swallowing salty dribbles of precome, he'd drool all over whatever was near his mouth. it was just too hard to focus on not drooling when the warmth of your tongue got him close so fast. his eyes would get lidded and his knees would grow weak and his mind would turn to mush the second you started to blow him. sometimes you'd have to hold his hips to keep him steady. he was very predictable.

one thing you two like to do together is have art get on all fours on the bed, knees spread apart with his cock hard and hanging between his thighs. his hands will go up and squeeze onto the pillows as he lowers his head and lets you jerk him off.

it’s kinda demeaning, in a way; being milked like a cow.

but you like doing it to him, and he likes whatever you like, so he loves this.

when your hand starts to stroke his cock, strings of pre leaking from his slit, his arms will usually start to shake. it'll start at his shoulders, and then go down to his elbows, and then end when his wrists can't hold him up anymore. he'll let himself collapse down onto the cushions without more than a whine of protest and a renewed tint of pink across the bridge of his nose. his head will lay on one side of his face, his lips parted to let out whimpers and whines as his hips jolt, and then it’ll start.

he’ll drool.

all over.

down the side of his face, over his bottom lip, down his chin. it all happens depending on how his head is positioned. but he always, always, always slobbers on the pillow a little.

just as his eyes start to roll back, and his pelvis starts to shallowly move to thrust his cock into your moving grasp, his sweet and sticky saliva will dribble down his face someway and soak into the pillowcase.

he can't help it.

because, again, you make it hard to pay attention to anything other than how good you make his dick feel. it throbs in your hand.

when you catch a glimpse of his drooling, you usually smile and speed up your touch.

"Art, baby-" you'll coo to him, "drooling."

and he'll know right away what you mean.

"Anghh— feel s'good, s'good— 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he'll inevitably slur.

he'll try to wipe it with the back of his hand, but he's usually shaking too much for that to do much of anything. it more just smears the transparent fluid across his flushed face.

slurp. wipe. whimper.

a few more strokes of your hand, and a thumb pressed right under his cockhead, is all he needs to let go after that point.

his eyes will roll back as he cries out and bucks into your fist, shooting and coating the bedding underneath with his load. he'll tremble and whine until his hands grasping at the sheets below have the instinct to fly between his legs and stop the overstimulation. you generally let up soon after he makes that known.

after you clean him up and ease him into bed, he'll make sure to kiss you goodnight. and it's messy and needy and a little bit too much, but you let him do it anyways. he's eager to please, and he's eager to show you how much he appreciates the way you take care of him. he’s just eager.

maybe one day you'll get sick of how much tongue he uses when he kisses, but you doubt it. it’s just so perfectly him.

[yingshiart]

tennis is a relationship. 🎾

[fawnnpaws]

art and patrick taking you to your first rave, handing u a little bright pink pill that you take unquestionably because you trust them blindly. getting lost in the music with them and suddenly their hands are on you, all over while you’re feeling euphoric omgggg i need to stop

no no no keep going 🗣️🗣️🗣️

you don’t question the pill even though you know you probably should, but art and patrick wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. they just want you to have a good time! and ooohhh the body high you start to get is definitely making that happen. it feels like all of your senses are dialed up to 11, the music is rushing through you in a way that makes you feel like you can see the sound waves. the colors of the festival are brighter, so vibrant you can almost taste them. and art and patrick are the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. they’re smiling at you, like they know a secret you don’t, but you don’t even feel the need to ask. your pupils are blown out wide as you look up at the two of them, haloed by the lights around the festival like two angels. then their hands are on you and it’s like your body physically melts into the touch.

patrick is behind you, his chest pressed against your back, and his hands are roaming everywhere. it’s like he has a million of them. you feel him all over somehow, especially when he starts to grind his hips slowly against yours. art is in front of you, facing you, with your hips practically pressed together. his hands roam just like patrick’s. maybe that’s why it feels like there are so many hands on you. you’re not sure where his hands are compared to patrick’s, all you know is that they feel so good. you’re dancing between the two of them, swaying and rolling your hips to the rhythm of the music surrounding you. every touch from the two of them sends shock waves through your body, little parks that feed into the ache you’re starting to feel between your legs. your head falls back on patrick’s shoulder and it’s like they can sense what you’re feeling without you saying anything. maybe you did say something - you’re honestly not sure what your mouth is doing, but it feels like you need to chew on something.

they take you back to your tent - adorably decorated by you earlier in the day because you insisted on making sure it looked nice. you go easily as they lay you down on the plush blankets laid over the air mattress art had the foresight to bring… almost like they’d planned this, what a coincidence. you’re starting to peak now, your body floating in space and so so sensitive. your mouth feels weird and you tell them so. art mentions casually that that’s normal, you just need to suck on something. it’s not entirely his fault that he’s standing right above you when he says it and it’s definitely not his fault that your first reaction is to flick your eyes down to the noticeable bulge in his pants before looking back up at him with those pretty eyes. what was he supposed to do?

as it turns out, art was right. sucking on something does help. the weight of his dick in your mouth, the salty taste of his skin, the delicious smell of him - they all make your head fuzzy and soft. you’re on your tummy between art’s legs and the ache between your own legs is still there, but again, it’s like they know what you need before you even ask. patrick slides up behind you and gently pulls your tiny little rave shorts down, delighted to find nothing under them. “she’s such a cute little slut,” he mutters softly to art.

it’s not long before patrick is sliding his dick inside you. you’re dripping around him and drooling around art, so leaky and wet for your two boys. never in your life did you think two people could make you feel this good, but it’s bliss. your bodies move and melt together, they anticipate your every need. the only thoughts occupying your mind are art, patrick, art, patrick, art, patrick. they adore you like this, so pliant and responsive. it takes every ounce of their willpower not to completely demolish you like they want to - a thought for next time, because the second they saw that dazed, doe-eyed look in you they decided there would be a next time. especially when they realize how easy it is to make you cum like this, how they barely have to move before you’re spasming and tightening your perfect little holes around them. they push and pull orgasm after orgasm out of you, only stopping when they can’t take it anymore and have to cum inside your thrumming body. even then, just the feeling of being filled with their hot sticky cum sends you over the edge one more time.

they hold you after, cooing at you and telling you how well you did for your first time. “our good girl, so fuckin proud of you. took it like a champ. so so good for us.” everything fades into white noise as you nuzzle between the two of them, getting as close as possible. you’re just barely starting to come down. they know you’ll be achy and sore tomorrow, but that won’t stop them from slipping you another pink little pill the next night.

[neversatisfiedwithlife]

"They're awful for each other" like okay.

They all are awful for each other but exactly what each other need. The only people that can handle and get each other. When it's just pairs, yes it's an absolute trainwreck. But when it's a throuple. They need that third balance

[bellatrixscurls]

you and tashi are in a relationship. and one day, patrick explains to art in great detail how great the sex between you two must be. at first, sweet art doesn’t want to hear it cus you and tashi are their very good friends, but that smug mf insists like he always does and now whenever you are around him, he can’t help the way his cock hardens and makes him basically unable to sit right.

[webbluvrsugar]

Hi!! i literally LOVE you’re work, can you tag all of your works that you recommend, thanks xo

Hi love!! Thank you so so much!

I don’t know what you’re into so here’s just what I think you should check out!

SUGAR’S BEST RECOMMENDATIONS:

- spoiledtennis!reader au (challengers):

. introduction to the au.

. spoiledtennis!reader getting rewarded.

> since there’s more of this au coming out, I think it’s a good thing to check!

- Ethan Landry:

. first date with him (I’m really proud of this one).

. him being rough.

- outerbanks:

. gymbro!rafe.

. unicrush!reader au (jj)

. jj at the beach.

- saltburn:

. being felix’s girlfriend.

[gladiatorcunt]

this with obsessed best friends!art and patrick <3

[buckysteve]

art/patrick + old childhood best friends motif

[jesuistrestriste]

Sage hear me out...

Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy

art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.

he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.

sigh.

when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.

“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.

“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.

he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.

and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.

“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”

he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”

the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.

“can i… can i please have you now?”

a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.

“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.

“you’re forgetting something, Art.”

it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.

“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”

the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”

“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“

his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.

“what do you want?”

god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.

but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.

there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).

but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.

“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”

you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.

you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.

you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.

“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.

art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.

you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.

you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.

his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.

he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.

“please, mommy”

“come in my mouth, mommy”

“give it all to me, mommy”

“i can take it, mommy”

you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?

he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.

and holy fuck, you come hard.

a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.

“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”

you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.

but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.

“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.

he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.

your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.

you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.

“so good, baby..”

art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.

he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.

something that he’s earnestly dying to say.

something that he knows you deserve to hear.

“thank you.”

[talkfastwalkfaster]

Masterlists

⌲ Art Donaldson

⌲ Anakin Skywalker

⌲ Obi-Wan Kenobi

[tinythebunni]

hai guys! w all da blogs being terminated i decided 2 make a second account bc m scared of losing all you guys :(

it’s @dollitababes

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[poppy-metal]

constantly wanting skin to skin w daddy!art and mommy!tashi. it gets so bad that art has to cockwarm you for hours bc your insufferable and tashi doesn’t like touch constantly T-T

imagine when they go to his matches and you're home all day alone <///3 you're so desperate just imagining them coming home and art immediately seeking you out to fill you up. you've been texting them like crazy, art mostly, cause he's always more likely to reply - are you almost home? I miss you. can you please fuck me when you get here? I'm so empty I miss you so much I just want you inside.

tashi rolls her eyes - she takes her time settling into her at home clothes - meticulously taking off her jewelry, her rings and earrings and bracelets - sliding out of her outerwear into something more comfortable. brushing out her hair. she also gets herself a glass of wine.

then she goes to find her two lovers - by the time she steps into the guest room arts already inside you on the bed. you're spread out underneath him with completely naked, legs and arms hooked around him like a koala. she can see her husband is barely moving inside you - his balls pressed flushed to your cunt, snug there. you're embracing mostly - just with his cock inside you. it's cute.

she sets her glass on the table next to the bed and settles in. your head lolls lazily to her, eyes already fucked out - face flushed. art is mouthing at your neck, probably slipping into his own headspace - subspace or domspace or daddyspace - probably the last one, he gets so lost in you like this, especially after you express need for him - art donaldson loves nothing more than being needed and wanted. and you a very needy girl. you want so much.

she cards a hand through your hair - you lean into the touch. cheek in her palm. "feel good, baby?"

you nod - your mouth opens and she knows what you want. she sinks her fingers into your open orface- the slick inside of your mouth warm and wet. she presses down against your tongue and licks her lips at the way your mouth closes around her - starts sucking immediately. tashis an independent woman - the whole concept of a third had been brought into light for art and art alone, to feed that dependent, hungry part of him starved for love and attention - but she found herself falling for you too. and it was nice, she had to admit - to feel needed and wanted by you too.

she lets you suckle on her fingers and watches the way you and her husband move together. he's moving now - slow motions of his hips - and she can't see it from this view, nothing but the rise and fall of his ass as he pumps - but she knows what it looks like. can imagine the view of arts pink cock sliding in and out of your tight hole. she wonders if you're getting him creamy yet. decides to ask.

"how does she feel?"

art moans. his hips stutter. he always likes it when tashi asks him questions about you while he's inside - something about her being involved abosloving him of guilt that he's doing anything wrong by her, even though she's told him a million times it's impossible for him to cheat - given you're their girlfriend - her approval just spurs him on regardless.

"so wet." he sighs. noses along your jaw. "she's all swollen inside - hot and tight - god, -"

"aw," tashi coos. "she missed her daddy, I bet."

that's another thing that gets art going. he groans, you whimper around tashis fingers, in agreement, at the sudden pace of arts hips snapping into you - both, probably.

"missed her too." he leans down to kiss you, can't because your mouth is filled and ends up mouthing at your cheek, kisses down to your throat - "m'here baby - fuck - I've got you -"