Art Donaldson X Reader - Blog Posts

𝝑𝝔 Art Donaldson x fem!reader

cw: smut, cheating, tiny small very little mention of aftercare, rushed, minors dni!

an: have yet to watch challengers so bear w me until i do watch it..seeing it thursday..this is kind of bad since i don’t really have experience writing smut but mike faist is so back and also so fine. i had to!! also kind of rushed

Art consumed every inch of your mind. how could he not? he was perfect. everything about him was. the way every glance made you nervous, and every hit he made with his racket captivated you. consumed.

but it was wrong. so wrong. he was married to Tashi Duncan. you felt jealous whenever you saw them together at dinner parties or whenever he would call her after your practice sessions with him ended. yet you often felt guilty for the feelings you had for him.

but the moment he began taking off your top, guilt and jealousy faded, completely washing over you.

he was a rough kisser— which you didn’t mind. your kiss was nasty, rough, and oddly sweet. his tongue was in your mouth and you swear you can hear a moan coming from him.

he stopped to take his white polo off, and you helped.

he wasted no time getting the rest of your clothes off after that.

Art pulls his shorts off before turning around to face you,

“don’t have any condoms,”

“pill.” you respond. he nods, spitting into his hand and using it to stroke his dick.

“fuck.” he grunts out. you’re on the edge of the bed, on your knees and looking up at him.

“turn around,” he orders. you nod.

you’re grabbed by the hips and moved back towards him. he has his hands on your ass as he runs the tip of his dick over your slit a few times.

“Art, please.” you whisper. he begins fucking into you slowly. moans fill the room, and it’s not only you.

you turn around and he’s a mess—you can tell. he’s moaning curses out, and when you look back at him he can’t help himself. your tight cunt and pretty face is all he needs to cum, he thinks.

“‘m gonna cum,” he says almost frantically.

“Art, baby, hold it. F’me?” you say in between quick breaths.

he’s looking at you now, and he nods.

“Art,”

he nods again.

“Not gonna cum,” he whispers.

“No, no, no. Here,” you say pulling yourself off of him. a small breathless whimpers comes out from him.

grabbing his arm, you coax him to the bed. once he’s sitting you climb into his lap, sinking onto his cock.

“holy fuck, m’gonna cum. i can’t.” he says shaking his head, you haven’t even started.

his face is red, and he has his arms wrapped around you. he shakes his head again.

“fuck..fuck..fuck. can i cum? please, please..” he burrows his head into the crook of your neck.

your fingers intertwine with his hair, pulling it slightly. it’s all too much for the poor boy, and he’s jerks once before you feel him finish inside you.

he takes a few deep breathes.

you’re not done yet, you keep fucking him. teary eyed he throws his head back. you wrap your hands around his neck. he kisses you. he’s moaning the sluttiest moans in your mouth you’ve ever heard. the pace picks up and soon you’re coming all over his cock. you lift yourself off while the cum drips out of you, landing all over his thighs.

he rubs a hand in his hair and leans back onto the bed.

“shower?” you ask quietly.

Art sits up and nods.

“yeah, that’d be nice.” he smiles.