#mikefaist

[matchpointfaist]

what about dilf!art but like now ceo!dilf art of his own tennis company x new hire! she’s out of college and this is her first/one of her first “big girl cooperate jobs” and she’s really smart but also eager to please 😝

ceo! art that started the donaldson foundation after he injured his shoulder and retired.

he wanted all the best and brightest on his team, needing all the help with marketing and development that he could get. you were just out of college, fresh faced with a short, but concise, resume, and bright, eager eyes.

you got a small corner office, just next to his, with a smooth glass door reading “assistant marketing director”, and shelves lining the walls full of tennis memorabilia and a welcome basket, courtesy of art donaldson himself. it was all so shiny and new, so official, so real.

and then there was art, of course. the leader of it all. he was so polite, so down to earth despite his celebrity status, taking the time and care to interview all of his employees personally, to make them feel comfortable and welcome and like he really needed them.

a knock on your door interrupted you from your examination of your new setup, and you glanced up to see his familiar blonde hair and smile, “you settling in okay?” “oh, everything’s great,” you nodded, genuinely grateful, “thank you again, mr. donaldson. this is a better job than i ever could’ve asked for straight out of school,”

“please, you can call me art,” he smiled, waving a dismissive hand, “it’s my pleasure, really. your interview was extremely promising. i look forward to working with you,” he gave you one last glance over before nodding his head and leaving you to it, leaving behind an air of expensive cologne.

a few weeks went by, and you didn’t see him very often, mainly working alongside the marketing board. you kept busy, trying your hardest to further the company, to prove yourself worthy out of a pool of graduates.

after work one evening, you were in the parking garage, frustration tinting your cheeks red as you tried, and failed, to start your car. it was freezing, and your car wasn’t even that old, and you really had the worst luck. but then there was the clicking of shoes against the concrete, art’s expensive oxford loafers echoing through the garage. “everything alright?”

you hadn’t meant to cry, really. you were just so annoyed, so tired, and he looked so genuinely concerned. “woah, hey, it’s okay,” he said quickly, coming to your side like a knight in shining armor, taking off his suit jacket to wrap it around your shoulders, “car trouble? it’s gonna be fine, i have you,”

you were completely humiliated, standing there sniffling and wiping your eyes, wrapped up in his jacket. “i’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “my car just won’t start and i got really upset, you don’t have to stay,”

“hey, it’s alright,” he said softly, “here, why don’t you let me take you home, honey? we’ll sort this out tomorrow. i’ll expense you a company car, we’ll draw up the paperwork,” honey. you’d stopped crying, but your cheeks were even redder now.

“yes, sir. thank you,” you nodded, wiping your eyes one final time. he grabbed your purse from the ground, one arm around your shoulders securing his jacket and one looped through the bags handle as he led you to his aston martin, helping you into the passenger seat carefully.

he let you put your address into the gps, watching you carefully like he was afraid you might cry again. you noticed he’d turned on the heated seats for you, and your cheeks flushed all over again at his consideration. “you didn’t have to do this,” you said finally, the air thick with tension, “i really appreciate it, though,” “it’s no problem at all,” he said surely, “i’m just sorry you were so stressed. we’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow, i promise,”

“you don’t have to do that, mr. donaldson,” “art,” he reminded you, paired with a stern look, “and i want to. you’re doing some really incredible things for the company, you deserve to be taken care of, alright? really, i should be thanking you,” you could’ve forgotten that you even worked for him, if the conversation hadn’t taken a turn. it felt so domestic, riding in the passenger seat of his car, watching the way his arm flexed as he steered. he’s your boss, you reminded yourself, you shouldn’t be admiring his arms.

he pulled into your apartment complex, the car idling quietly. “thank you again,” you smiled as much as you could manage, hoping you sounded as grateful as you felt, “i really appreciate you,” he turned to you, paused, as if he was deliberating, and then rested a hand on your knee gently, “i appreciate you, and everything you’re doing for the company. this business is everything to me lately, and you’re making some major improvements. i hope you know that,”

“y- yes sir,” you nodded, dumbstruck from the feeling of his hand on the bare skin past the hem of your skirt, “i appreciate the feedback,” it was suddenly too warm in the car, too confined, you were far too close to art your boss, who was looking at you like he was thinking exactly the same thing you were.

“i really wanna kiss you right now,” he let out a breathless laugh, “but i’m afraid that would be horribly unprofessional, and i don’t want to take advantage of you,” “take advantage of me?” you repeated, suddenly electric with want, “you wouldn’t be- we’re both adults, i mean, and i wouldn’t tell anyone-“

he didn’t let you finish, leaning over the console to crush his lips to yours, his free hand coming to rest on the side of your face as he kissed you. he was stern and directive, but soft and polite, just like he was in the office. he took the lead but didn’t rush you, running his tongue across your bottom lip like he was asking permission.

you weren’t sure how you even ended up in your apartment, but soon you were pressed against the inside of your front door, your purse dropped to the floor and arts suit jacket crumpled beside it.

his hands were greedy, slipping everywhere they could as he kissed you in a frenzy, and you kicked off your heels as you wrapped a leg around his, bringing him closer. your clothes eventually came off in a flurry, a pile of starched fabric beside you until you were left in your thankfully matching underwear, and art was in his dress pants, looking down at you like you might disappear.

“are you sure-“ “just fuck me,” you mumbled against his lips as you pulled him into another kiss, fumbling with his belt until his pants had joined your skirt, and then he was pulling off your bra and his fingers were dipping into your silk panties and the noises leaving your mouth were downright pornographic.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he panted, curling his fingers just right, “is that all for me, honey?” you nodded urgently, palming him through his boxers until you got impatient and pushed them down, taking him in your hand. “you want it right here, hm? or you want me to take you to bed?”

“here,” you pleaded, feeling like you’d die if you waited another second. his hands settled on the backs of your thighs, pulling you up like you weighed nothing, resting your back against the door and kissing down your chest. he drug the tip of his cock against your clit in a few sweeping motions, collecting your wetness before sliding into you, his hands digging into your thighs with bruising intensity.

“god,” you moaned, pulling at his hair slightly, chasing his lips desperately. he was slow at first, ever the gentleman, letting you adjust. but then he was greedy, fucking you roughly, moaning incessantly like he’d never felt so good in his life.

“need you to come for me,” he practically begged, working at your clit with shaky fingers, “please, baby,” you only lasted a couple minutes after that, coming undone around him with a desperate moan, pulsing around him until you felt him throbbing inside you, his thrusts growing choppy and erratic.

“let me down,” you requested as he grew closer, and he didn’t hesitate to let you go, brows knit in concern. god, if he’d hurt you- but you sank to your knees in front of him, taking him into your mouth and laving your tongue against him, licking your wetness away. “oh, fuck me,” he moaned, fingers fisted in your hair, “god, i’m gonna-“

he came down your throat with a tremor, his hips rutting into your mouth, chasing his high greedily. you lapped it all up, swallowing it with a hazy smile, and he stroked his thumb down the side of your cheek gently, fondly.

“good girl,” he mumbled, worn out, “god, you’re so good at that. good at everything, yknow. so fucking smart,” you stood on shaky legs, and he was quick to support you, a hand on your low back. “cmon, i’ll put you to bed,”

you took him to your bedroom, shy as you let him into your space despite the total intimacy you’d just had. he tucked you in, his touches all tender and caring, “i’ll see you in the office tomorrow, yeah?” you frowned up at him, brows knit, “you’re not staying?” “i figured you wouldn’t want me to, but-“

you pulled him down with a giggle, and he landed with a huff, smiling down at you and nestling under your comforter. “you can drive me back to work, it’ll be quite the scandal,” you teased. “in my defense, your car really did break down,” “whatever you have to tell them, boss,”

[faistgirl]

save me hozier mike faist. save me. save me long haired mousy boy. save me modern jesus.

[sweetlovenotes]

incredibly willing to save a horse for his sake

[sunsetray]

ATP IN HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL

I love this so much!! I wanna write blurbs for them all but I’ll do that separately!

[imgaythankyougoodbye]

Challengers (2024) Spoilers Without Context

[moviepolaroids]

The Bikeriders Movie Sticker Set / T Shirt and more!

follows the rise and fall of a Chicago-based outlaw motorcycle club over ten years

[lesbonono]

After watching challengers:

I want Josh o conner's smirk in my pussy

I want zendaya to tell me I'm worthless

And unfortunately I'm still not into blondes but I came very close s/o Mike faist

[tinas1469]

Zendaya, Mike Faist and Josh O'Connor at the Australian Sydney premiere for "CHALLENGERS"

[wherever-i-look-blog]

Challengers (2024) Movie Review https://tinyurl.com/236prd3r

[cherry-orangevanilla]

the snoopy shirt omfg

Oh absolutely yes

[matchpointfaist]

riff x teacher!reader. Maybe they have known each other since they were kids, secretly in love with each other. She's very kind and patient, and maybe the only one Riff can ever be vulnerable with. love your writingg 💖💖

this is such a cute concept omg!! you ate.

riff lorton x teacher! reader for anon xx

you met riff lorton when you were just a kid, bounding through life with naive, shiny bright hope that everyone would want to be your friend. riff, on the other hand, had lost that hope, not that he ever had it to begin with. he was short, rude, aloof, and cold, ever the opposite to your warm, sunny personality.

you knew you could push through, though, if you just kept trying. so every day, for weeks, you brought him part of your lunch, paired with a hopeful little smile. and every day, he took the lunch, turned his nose up at you, and walked away to eat in privacy. it took three entire months for him to spare you so much as a conversation.

"you don't have to keep doin' this. you know that? i can get my own lunch," he said, glaring over at you despite holding the sandwich your mom had packed so neatly. "i know," you just shrugged, "i just wanted to be nice, that's all,"

he relaxed then, just slightly, unpacking the sandwich and slowly eating sitting right beside you, glancing all around at passing cars and the breeze blown trees. you just pulled out your book, content to sit in silence, thumbing through the pages as you sat.

"what's that?" he asked, gesturing to the paperback. "oh, it's pride and prejudice by jane austen," you smiled, holding it up, "d'you wanna borrow it?" he shook his head quickly, an odd sort of look passing over his face, "no, i was just askin',"

"i can read it out loud, if you wanted," you offered, hopeful smile returning, "it's a very good story," he shrugged, looking away, and you just went ahead and accepted that as invitation.

your little lunch dates turned into daily occurrences, riff eating the extra sandwich and carrots your mom had started packing, and you reading him page after page of your favorite novels. you'd offer, occasionally, to let him take them home, to finish them. but he'd always made that same face, a distant, indifferent expression in his eyes.

"are you sure you don't wanna borrow it?" you'd practically pouted, knowing how invested he'd gotten. he shook his head, his face slightly flushed, "look, i can't read, okay? my ma can't afford to send me to the school and i ain't smart enough to learn it myself,"

you'd gone home that night and sobbed to your own parents, crying for this poor, pitiful boy who'd been deprived of your greatest pleasure in life. then, you'd set out on a mission. you would teach riff lorton to read, right there in the schoolyard, if it was the last thing you did.

he downplayed it, when it was all said and done, but he'd never be able to tell you how much that really meant to him. you were the one person in his life that actually cared, especially enough to take such time and energy out of your day to repeatedly go over the same letters with him, never wavering, never getting frustrated. you never showed him anything but love.

years passed, and the two of you grew up together. schoolyard reading turned to riff disappearing for days at a time, finally returning with some bruises or a split lip, but never an explanation. you eventually found out, when your parents forbid you to go near him, that he was a part of the jets. not just a part of them, but the leader.

you'd cried, once again, for that broken boy who never got a fighting chance. for days, you'd wondered why he didn't tell you, why he didn't just ask you for help, or at least let you know he was in some sort of danger.

but that wasn't riff's way. he never wanted you to worry, or worse, to look down on him for the sort of people he surrounded himself with. so kept his mouth shut, all until the day you confronted him. he'd been gone for days, not bothering to stop by, and your worry had worn thin, morphing into anger.

"where the hell have you been?" you asked, hand on your hip, glaring at him like you were any sort of intimidating. "i'm sorry, i've just been busy," he waved you off, like he always did when it came to admitting his faults. "yeah, busy with your gang," you mumbled, shaking your head.

"what?" it came out sharper than he intended, voice coated in confusion. he'd worked so hard to keep you away from that, how could you have known? "my parents told me," you finally admitted, unable to meet his eyes, "riff, how could you?"

"this doesn't have nothin' to do with you, girly," he said quickly, "alright? it's my life and my business, and i'm doing my damn best to keep you out of it, so don't go puttin' your nose where it don't belong, y'hear me?"

"you are my business!" you snapped, throwing your hands up, "you're my best friend! how could you be so stupid, riff? you're putting your life in danger, and for what? for some street cred? over some stupid turf war for land that isn't even yours?"

"for my family!" he knew as soon as it came out, he'd raised his voice too much, gotten far too angry with you, but he couldn't stop, "this is all i got left, the jets, my boys! my parents are dead, i ain't got nothin' else to live for, alright? this is it, so don't you dare try and take that away from me,"

tears were slipping down your cheeks, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize, to tell you he never meant to yell and that you were his best friend, too, his only friend really. he ached to tell you the truth of it all; that he'd fallen in love with you sometime during all those afternoons you spent reading to him, and he was terrified at the thought of you getting anywhere near the life he'd made for himself.

"i hoped you'd at least say i'm something to live for," your voice was quiet, hurt, "maybe we just need some space for a while, alright? i shouldn't have lashed out, but i can't process this right now. i'm sorry, riff, i gotta go,"

you were gone before he could argue, and he knew better than to chase you. to chase you would be to give in, to agree to let you in to this mess, and he just couldn't do that, to you or to himself. so he let you leave, stood there for a moment just absorbing it, and went on home, whatever that even meant anymore.

you didn't get a proper chance to apologize after that. three days later, riff had been locked up in the state prison for assault during some gang fight, adding to the laundry list of reasons you'd ever had to cry for him. this beautiful boy that had no choice in how his life turned out, constantly chasing the legacy of a man who had long since died, and was never worth anything when he was alive. you moved on with your life eventually, graduating from college and going to teach at the very same school where you'd first met riff.

five years later, he came home. he didn't know where to find you anymore, not after your parents had moved off out of the city and you'd surely gotten a home of your own. he wasn't sure where you worked, or if you'd gotten married, or if you'd even want to see him. he spent days asking around, until he finally found out the teaching job you'd taken.

it made so much sense for you. he couldn't stop replaying the memories of you taking such doting care with him, teaching him something as basic as literacy like it wasn't something he needed to be ashamed of. he worked up the nerve, cleaning himself up as best he could, putting on his cleanest shirt and pants, picking some half dead flowers from the road and waiting outside the schoolhouse for you.

at the dismissal bell, you exited in a flood of students, all smiles and laughing and nurturing words to the kids as you walked them to their parents cars or to buses. good fucking god, you were beautiful. he nearly turned around and ran right then, too scared of what you'd think of him, too scared to know if you ever forgave him for that argument. he wondered how much you knew about what had happened, if you thought he was just another hardened criminal by now.

before he knew it, all the kids were gone, and you were walking towards you car. it was now or never, he guessed, and he'd never prided himself on being a coward. he called your name, jogging over, hoping he came across hopeful and not deranged, "girly, hey, hold on a second,"

"riff?" your voice was a jolt, straight to his chest, nearly diminishing all of his resolve from one syllable, "oh my god!" any fear he had that you were angry was gone the second you touched him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him to you, crying into his shirt like he'd come home from war and not prison, like he'd never hurt you.

"it's me," he choked out, petting the back of your hair helplessly, "you're okay, i'm fine," he murmured, suddenly embarrassed at his lack of grand gesture. "i was so worried about you," you sniffled, wiping your eyes, "you have no idea, i tried to come see you and they wouldn't since i'm not family and i was trying to find a way, i promise,"

"darlin, calm down," he smiled softly, wiping your cheeks gently, "i'm fine, alright? that's real sweet of you to try and come see me-" he stopped as you kissed him, all frantic in your movements, clinging to him still. he was frozen in place, kissing you back on instinct alone, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. "i've wanted to do that since we were kids," you whispered as you pulled away, "missed you so much, riff. i'm so sorry for the way i spoke to you that day, i never should've overstepped like that,"

"you weren't oversteppin," his voice was thick, strange to his own ears, "i got outta all that shit, before i came and found you. i'm on the straight and narrow, all cookie cutter for you, doll," "for me?" you repeated, eyes wide like it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, "oh, riff,"

and then you were kissing him again, like he'd disappear if you stopped, your hands on his shoulders as you stood on your tip toes, in front of all the other staff leaving like he was more than just some boy off the streets, like he was really worth somethin, same as all those years ago.

when you pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours, smiling like a madman, "thought about you every night in that jailhouse, sunshine, you're the only thing that brought me home. y'know that? told myself if i got outta there and you'd have me, i'd be a good man for you. make you my wife one day,"

"maybe we'll start with you bein my boyfriend," you grinned, cheeks all rosy and shining, "thought about you all the time, too. never stopped missin' you,"

minutes later, he was scrunched up in the passenger seat of your volkswagen bug, listening as you rambled on about how you just adored teaching, and how all the little boys reminded you of him when he was that age, all shiny and impressionable. you took him back to your apartment, promising that he could stay there as long as he wanted, practically begging him to never leave again.

that night, the two of you lay entwined across your bed, the words of pride and prejudice filling the silence as he read to you until you fell asleep.

[mrglitterati]

While love triangles might provide dramatic narratives, they typically foster unhealthy dynamics that lead to emotional distress and long-term

[kendyzzlewp]

Long Ass Break

art donaldson drabble

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

tags: fluff, domestic, married life, husband!art donaldson, tennisplayer!reader, tournament, coach!patrick

word count: 629

__________________________________________

Art was worried.

He watched as you ran off the court, your hand over your mouth as you tried for the life of you not to puke all over the clay court. Your opponent stood there frustrated, arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face.

Minutes passed and the murmuring of the crownd began to get louder due to your absence. Art looked around, his left hand scratching his head, a gold wedding band reflecting in the sun. No sign of you yet.

He was worried. He warned you about this happening, the pros and cons about playing in the tournament. You were stubborn, determined to power through because you’ve encountered worse. This was a piece of cake. Being your husband, he supported you but mostly, he just wanted to avoid your bad side.

Art glanced at the door you disappeared behind, his leg shaking in anticipation. You still hadn’t returned. The umpire was about to call the game. You were going to lose by default after being close to winning the whole goddamned tournament.

Fuck it, he thought and stood up to go through that fucking door. His heart racing as he pushed people from your team, muttering excuse me and thank you or whatever the fuck they needed to hear.

He reached the closed bathroom door, leaning closer to hear your retching as your stomach rebelled against you. His knuckles knocked on the bathroom door, as a courtesy and then pushed the door open.

Inside the bathroom, you were hunched over the toilet, clearly in distress. Art's heart clenched at the sight. He quickly kneeled down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back.

"Hey sweetheart," he said softly, trying to offer some comfort. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

You looked up, tears in your eyes, and managed to croak out, "You were right,” you admitted. “I need a break.”

Art's heart sank as he saw you so distressed and vulnerable. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his comforting embrace. You felt a little better, the nausea still lingered around your throat but the urge was gone.

���You need to rest,” he whispered into your hair, sound muffled. “It’s starting to take a toll on you.

You sighed, tired, sweaty and defeated. “I know. Just take me home.”

Patrick burst through the door, concern and disappointment etched all over his place. “What the fuck is going on? Why aren’t you playing?”

You rolled your eyes as Art helped you stand up on your shaky legs. “I need a break Pat,” you said, leaning on your husband for support. “I need a long ass break.”

“A break?” He asked, crossing his arms in disbelief. “When have you ever taken a break?”

“Fuck off, Patrick,” Art grumbled at his best friend, turned your coach. “She needs a fucking break.”

Patrick scoffed, the sound making Art’s grip tighten around you. “How long is this break supposed to be?”

“9 months.”

Patrick's eyes widened in shock as the weight of your words sank in. He looked from you to Art, realization dawned on him. You shifted uncomfortably, wanting to just go home and sleep for the rest of the year.

"You're pregnant?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and understanding.

You nodded, leaning more heavily on Art for support. "Yes, I am."

Patrick's expression softened, his initial frustration melting away as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I... I had no idea.”

“Now you do,” Art rolled his eyes, his own concern for you evident but the annoyance toward Patrick even more prominent. "I just need to take her home before she throws up all over you.”

Patrick stepped aside, offering you a supportive smile. "Congratulations, you fuckers. Take all the time you need. We'll handle the tournament."

[sunsetray]

Rays bot drop

Requests:

Old feelings- Art Donaldson has been your dance partner since 5th grade but ever since he started Stanford he wouldn’t stop talking about Tashi little did you know about the secret crush he harbours for you.

Meeting Lily- You’re arts controversially young girlfriend that he met at a tennis event. He’s always known he wanted you to meet Lily so when Tashi finally gives him the go ahead he takes you and Lily to her favourite restaurant! He really hopes his two favourite girls can connect.

HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL AU-

Real Smooth- Patrick’s grades were falling dramatically and so was his attendance. To actually pass senior year you had to be involved in at least two clubs and Patrick only ever had time for one. So when the wildcats isn’t enough Patrick is to join drama club to bring up his school performance.

Stage fright- Art had never froze on the stage before, he was always so confident people would say he glowed under the stage lights.So why was he so frozen when you walked in?

Drama club- Patrick was captivated by you when he saw you in the Schools Twinkle town. Ever since then he was eager to find out everything about you even if that meant joining drama club.

Fake dating- You and Art were both main characters for the schools Twinkle town. But ever since he froze on stage he hasn’t been able to live it down. So with this new drama of him dating one of the most well known people at school be enough to fix his reputation?

My first ever bot drop! I can’t believe it tbh! Some of these bots have been in the works for ages while others are super recent. I do want to improve some of them over time. But I just needed to finish some of them up! I know there’s no Tashi which I’m so sorry about, I just hadn’t had any decent ideas for Tashi bot that I actually could go through with! Hopefully Tashi can be in my next drop! My request form is located on my profile if you have any ideas! Most of the requests might come out separately! I’m sorry some of these are really bad but I’m sick rnn 😭😭 anyways enjoy!

[jilllovesmike]

Atlanta has been added to the list. April 24th.

Challengers World Tour

Sydney ✅

Paris - April 6

Rome - April 8

London - April 10

Los Angeles - April 16

[moviepolaroids]

Challengers Movie Sticker Set / T Shirt and more!

time shifting drama about a love triangle between tennis pros