Why Did I Just Burst Out Crying 🤣

Plllsss a little more of reader babying art😔😔😔😔!!!! He’s so baby girl, I love him

i am extremely glad we can all agree that art loves to be babied <3

first of all, art definitely needs to warm up to someone to actually admit that.. no he doesn't always wanna be the dominant one in the relationship, growing up around patrick made him feel like if he wasn't masculine, no girls would ever like him.. which is totally untrue!!! <3

he LOVES subtle acts of dominance, opening the door for him, walking in front of him, ordering his food etc. he gets embarrassed easily, so having more subtle ways to have dominance over him in public without others noticing!! <3

nsfw under the cut <3

he loves to be doted on in the bedroom, pretty much treat him like he can't think for himself, and he'll be drooling for you in minutes <3

being bossed around turns his brain off, leaving no room for him to worry or be anxious or insecure <3

he literally would die for a reach around handjob i think.. he's such a whore he'd just open his legs wide for you, throwing his head back in your shoulder with a whiny moan <3

also.. lowkey loves nursing handjobs... he'll suck on your tits forever if you asked him to.. and the face he makes when he cums, with his face all screwed up in pleasure is unresistable <3

art will absolutely wake you up in the middle of the night by grinding against your ass, doing his best to be quiet but he can't stop the moans that escape his pretty pink lips <3

"mm.. don't stop moving your hand.." "you're s' soft.." "'m gonna cum f' you.. please lemme cum f' you." <3

art needs aftercare as much as he needs air.. until he gets cleaned up and cuddled into bed he has a permanent pout on his face.. waiting till you crawl into bed with him and let him suckle on your tit to fall asleep <3

SANTA BABY (art donaldson x fem! reader)

the flurry of pure white snow outside your window caused your peaceful slumber to be cut short, the brightness of it peeking through your eyelids no matter how tightly you closed them. shifting in your cozy bed piled high with blankets, you see your husband art has not been affected by the growing blizzard outside, his chest rising and falling accompanied by soft snores.

arts body was warm, a stark contrast to the biting cold that was trying it's best to seep in through the windows. even in his sleep, art could sense your movement, removing his arm from under the blanket and reaching out for you. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you interlace your fingers with his, watching his face relax back into peacefulness.

you find yourself able to fall asleep again, this time getting woken up by a pressure on your chest, causing your eyes to snap open before you recognize the familiar tuft of blond hair. the blond hair was, of course, connected to art, who was too busy pressing his head into your chest to notice that you've woken up. you raise your hand and run your fingers through his soft hair, causing art to startle.

"you're awake.." he mumbles, eyes threatening to fall closed. you smile, petting his hair gently. "i am" you say simply, the cloud of tiredness in your beginning to clear as you watch him become more awake as well. "what time is it?" art asks, trying to gauge the time of day by looking outside but the bright snow making it difficult. you grab your phone, turning it on to check, "it's like 11:30" you say, not surprised that you both slept in quite late. art hums, "let's just stay in bed all day.." he's only half joking, stretching out his legs and yawning before settling back into bed.

you giggle, rolling onto your side and looking at art, admiring the subtle lines and freckles on his face, brought out by the brightness in the room. art has flipped to lay on his stomach, his toned back now flexing as he moves his arms to stretch. you can't resist leaning forward and kissing his soft skin, trying to count the freckles scattered across his back like stars. "shouldn't we go downstairs and open presents?" you ask, selfishly trying to get him to stay in bed with you.

art shakes his head, opening his eyes and letting them roam over your face, taking in every little detail that he adores so much. "no way.. not when i have the best present up here.. all to myself" he jokes, a smile gracing his face. you almost groan at how cheesy it is, shoving your face into your pillow before you're interrupted by art nosing at your neck. he plants wet kisses along your jawline, and if you concentrate hard enough you can feel the smile on his lips.

the feeling makes your stomach jump, never getting used to the endless amount of attention you receive from art. he pulls you closer to him, helping you hike your leg over his hip and placing his warm hands on your lower back. you can feel his breathing start to pick up against your neck, the more he pushes on your lower back, the closer you get to the bulge straining against his briefs. you can't help but giggle, appreciating how quickly he gets flustered after all these years.

you grin against him, letting art lick at your lips as you place your hand between your bodies, trailing it down to his briefs. art whines lowly against your mouth when you rub your hand gently against him through the fabric, immediately feeling the wetness of the precum oozing out of him. "eager, huh?" you tease, pulling his underwear down to rest under his balls, now moving your hand against his bare skin, squeezing your hand around him to feel him pulsing.

art noses at your neck, rolling his hips into your fist and reveling at the warmth that feels a million times better than his own hand. "k-keep going.." he murmurs, tensing his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. you swipe your thumb over his tip, smearing his wetness over his dick as he whines. arts hand comes down to clutch at yours, not trying to stop your movements, just trying to ground himself by touching you.

art gets close to cumming embarrassingly fast, his hand tightening around yours so much that it almost hurts, but you keep going, almost having to pin him down as he squirms. the soft "ah, ah, ah"s escaping arts mouth get louder, and he can't warn you before his cum is spilling all over your hand. art always cums a lot, more than you'd expect to even be able to come out of his body. as the last of his cum spurts out of his angry pink tip, arts body shudders.

you pull your hand off of him, watching as his eyes flutter open again. art always gets extremely docile after he cums, after a few seconds of resting, art shifts his body to lay on top of you, and you aren't shocked to feel his dick hard again against your thigh. "let me make you feel good too.. please" you can feel the vibrations of his words against your neck, his soft lips working their way down your chest, taking time to suckle at your nipples. you instinctively spread your legs for him, making space for his body to settle between your thighs. art makes small noises of appreciation as he kisses the soft skin on your stomach, sometimes dragging his teeth gently along the skin to feel you tense up under him.

art places his large warm hands on the squishy skin of your inner thighs, pushing them apart even farther as you arch your back at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. art immediately starts mouthing at your clit and pushing his tongue inside you, not even worrying about whether he can breathe or not, just wanting to make you feel good. art has never had a technique for eating you out, he just practically makes out with your pussy until you have to pull him away by the soft curls on his head, which is what you're having to do currently. "art- art it's too much" you whine out, trying to shut your legs as best you can, but arts hands keep them spread wide for him. you can feel the knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten, motivating you to push arts face away from your cunt so you can look him in the eyes.

"art.. please fuck me" you normally aren't one to beg, but something about the way the soft morning light hits arts milky skin makes you terribly eager. art, always wanting to please, nods his head, finally shucking off his briefs and letting his cock smack against his stomach. art places his hand in front of you, wordlessly asking for you to spit in it for him. you comply, watching with slight awe as he uses your spit to lube himself up, rubbing his tip at your entrance before slowly moving inside. art isn't necessarily afraid of hurting you with his size anymore, but he knows his body well enough to know that if he goes too quick, he'll just cum immediately.

despite this knowledge, as art sinks further into the warmth you provide him, he finds all logic has disappeared. your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling him close. art groans against your neck, picking up his head to kiss you passionately, before closing his eyes to focus on not cumming before you. "i can’t, its- you're too warm- just need—" he can’t form complete sentences, he’s thrusting mindlessly until he reaches his peak. you wrap your legs around his hips and whisper in his ear "go ahead.. cum for me art" and he's a goner. art gives one last thrust, the hardest he’s given you so far, then stills completely. his entire body shudders with the feeling of euphoria coursing through his body, he grips your hips so tight he’s sure you’ll have bruises in the shape of his hands. art holds you still and lets his cum pulse inside of you. he wants it as deep as possible. he can’t explain the need to breed that takes over his head, but he knows he can't risk you shifting even a little because he needs it all to spill inside.

you're sure he didn't even notice that you came too, squeezing so tight around him that if he was in his right mind he would have noticed. you let art come down from his high, slowly sinking further into your body as he places his head on your bare chest, shifting his hips slightly to pull out. art fights to stay awake, his instincts making him get up and pad over to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth for you and gently spreading your legs again, this time with more pure intentions. the feeling of the warm washcloth soothes your soreness, and you don't have to open your eyes when you feel art slip back into bed beside you, laying on his back as he pulls you to lay on his chest.

"merry christmas" he murmurs, a small smile on his face. you smile too, looking up at his blushing face. that's the last thing you remember before you fall peacefully back asleep, your dreams full of decorating trees, drinking hot cocoa and cuddling by the fire with your husband. <3

No thoughts, only Art looking for chapstick and stumbling upon Tashi’s lipgloss in a tossed pair of Patrick’s pants.

Art puts it on for shits and giggles and immediately feels heat crawl up his neck and face as he looks at himself in the mirror. He knows he probably looks ridiculous wearing it. His image looks a tad feminine; the gloss being pale pink with a slight shimmer that sparkles in the light. He wipes it off, dismissing it as a one-time thing. Unfortunately, he can’t stop thinking about it and can’t help thinking about the shine and the slick, sticky feeling when he first rubbed his lips together and suddenly Art is putting it on whenever he has alone time.

He only applies the gloss when he’s sure Patrick will be out for the evening or stuck to Tashi until an inevitable fight brings him back to their shared dorm. It’s only by relying on Patrick being gone for a weekend, whether visiting his parents or staying with Tashi -Art can’t remember what Patrick had said- that Art gets caught by the devil, himself, putting it on.

The duo stands staring at each other for a long moment before Art scrambles to scrub the stickiness from his mouth. Patrick, in all his nonchalance and confidence, shrugs it off like it’s no big deal and the pair leaves it at that.

Only the image of Art wearing that pretty pink concoction is burned into Patrick’s mind and it’s all he can think about- hell, DREAM about. He constantly has to shake the memory from his mind when he wakes up in the morning with sticky boxers - dreams of Art going down on him and leaving wet kisses all over his body while wearing the cursed substance stay stuck on replay. His mind wanders so often to Art that it becomes enough of a problem to where he starts chronically canceling plans and ends up breaking it off with Tashi…

Because all he can think about are those pretty, pink lips and golden curls and pathetic puppy dog eyes before he decides he has to do something about it before he loses his mind, entirely.

day 2: new positions <3

art has never been adventurous. he's always been the one to reel in other people, to make sure that they're being cautious. art is a chronic overthinker, at any point in time whether he's just staying into space he's constantly thinking about everything that could go wrong. so imagine his surprise when you asked him to try something new.

you're actually at the dinner table when you ask, so infatuated with watching art across the table that the question just slips out, "could we try a new position tonight?" art pauses his eating immediately, chewing slowly before swallowing and answering. "like- like for sex?" art isn't stupid, he knows you're talking about a sex position, but he doesn't think he can ever remember having sex with someone that wasn't in missionary. you nod, taking pleasure in the flush creeping across his face. "can i think about it?" art asks, obviously afraid of saying the wrong thing.

later, when you're laying in bed, watching him brush his teeth in the bathroom, you finally get your answer. art walks over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed and fidgeting with his fingers. "i wanna try a new position" he looks at you expectantly, wanting you to take the lead. and you do so, gladly.

art lets you practically manhandle him into the position you like, watching you with hooded eyes. he's already painfully hard, and he has been ever since dinner. he's red and leaking and everytime you touch him his dick jumps from excitement. you straddle his lap, smiling as his hips try to buck up into you. your weight on his lap is surprisingly arousing to him, but he doesn't do anything about it, waiting for you to lead him.

art is practically panting now, his chest heaving as you slip him inside of you, and art swears he sees stars. having you on top of him makes him feel like he's been having sex wrong all this time, he swears he can feel your movements better this way. you look down at him and his eyes are screwed shut and you feel his heart beating under your hands on his chest.

once art is able to focus again, he can't stop his base instincts to fuck up into you. he plants his feet on the mattress and wraps his arms tight around you, his biceps flexing against your back. and you let him have his way, pushing your head into his neck and biting there, drawing out a series of whines from arts mouth. you can feel his hips stuttering against you as he practically cries into your shoulder, pumping deep inside of you. and with art, he's never done quick, squirting inside you until he physically can't anymore.

you take his head out of your shoulder, looking at his teary eyes and wet lashes. and as always, art is insatiable. "can we try another one?" <3

ive been seeing a lot of posts about country boy! art and it has taken over my brain.... him being the quiet ranch hand on your grandparents property mhm... never talks to you directly but you always see him making eyes at you whenever he can.. your grandparents forcing you to go out and help him with something and you introduce yourself.. when you shake his hand he's blown away at the softness.. almost forgets to let go :((

i imagine he's too shy to talk to you after that.. so he leaves you sweet little notes in places he knows you'll go.. a note right on your windowsill.. one on the chair you sit on to watch the sunset.. he's so precious!!!

your grandparents start to invite him inside for dinner as it's getting colder outside.. he makes heart eyes at you across the table.. completely forgetting to eat and he offers to wash the dishes to distract you and your grandparents so he can sneak upstairs and steal a piece of your clothes.. it's not his fault the closest thing he could find to steal was a pair of your panties!! he tucks them in his pocket and ducks his head down as he leaves the house.. he doesn't even do anything perverted with them!! he just longs to have you to himself.. and the closest thing is keeping something that belongs to you!! maybe one day he'll find the courage to tell you how he really feels...

late nite (10pm) thoughts...

thinking of spending halloween with artrick.. they're wearing stupid matching costumes they found at spirit halloween, and they see you at a frat party on campus, wearing a.. less than modest costume, sipping on spiked punch in the corner.. all alone

they decide they need to have you.. art, the charmer, talks to you first, leaning up against the wall and making you laugh with silly jokes, before he introduces patrick, the one with dark hair and even darker eyes, who not so secretly looks at you chest now and again, not that you mind.. but art distracts you, complimenting your hair-do and makeup.. and before you know it..

art sits behind you on the bed upstairs, passionately kissing you while patrick kneels on the wooden floor under you, his big warm hands pressing your legs wider and wider for him so that he can basically make out with your pussy..

and then of course.. art being as greedy as he is.. has to hump fuck you into the mattress, while patrick makes you gag on his dick.. what you don't see is them locking lips over your arched body, moaning into each other's mouths..

eventually you emerge from the bedroom with no one suspecting a thing.. except for.. how did art and patrick end up with their costumes switched? <3

okay yall my post is literally ready and written in my notes app but tumblr is being a meanie and not working 🤭 so i have to wait until i get back to my house on my wifi to post it... i apologize!!! itll be worth it i swear

writing an artrick x reader fic.. the world is finally at peace （｡>‿‿<｡ ）

WAHHHH im crying tysm sweetheart 😭 ily!!!

Bad Day - A. Donaldson & P. Zweig x Reader

This is for the lovely @parkerluvsu it's short n sweet, hope you like!

Summary: A bad birthday ends with a night alone in bed, until your birthday presents catch you by surprise.

Word count: 430

The day was long gone, the room quiet and dim. A lone present lay on the bedside table, and it was something you’d gotten yourself and wrapped up nicely in a strange attempt at feeling better. 

The worst part of the day was over, you thought, but that was also a sort of death knell. 

When a knock came at your door, you almost didn’t get up. How could you? It was half-past ten, and the only people you really even wanted to see were off on tour, and hadn’t even bothered to text you a ‘happy birthday’. 

Still, the knocking continued, more insistent each time. Huffing, you stood, wrapping the comforter around yourself and moving out of the bedroom to the front door. When you unlatched it and pulled it open, you were almost immediately tugged into a three-person hug. The two men wrapped around you like they were trying to climb into your body itself. 

What are you doing here, you wanted to ask, but you didn’t really have the wherewithal. It was all you could do to stare at them, eyes wide and glassy, bottom lip wobbling. 

Art and Patrick looked at you, concern filling their gazes. 

“C’mere, baby.” Patrick was the first to speak, pulling you close again and leading you over to the bed. 

It felt stupid, now, to cry, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You curled up on your side, crying into one of the pillows. The hands on your back were soothing, and someone was grabbing your own fingers, pressing a kiss to the pad of each one. 

When you finally calmed down a bit and opened your eyes, Art was kneeling before you, and Patrick was laying on the bed behind you. Art’s hands held yours, Patrick’s rubbing circles onto your back. 

“Happy birthday,” they said, nearly in unison, and you let out a quiet laugh. 

“See, there’s my girl,” Patrick crooned, smoothing a hand over your hair and swiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. 

Art quietly crawled into bed with you and Patrick, slinging an arm over your waist, and the latter man pressed gentle kisses into your neck. 

It had been a bad birthday, yes, but with those two with you, it was easy to forget. In the morning, you’d wake up and see the presents that had been left sitting by your door from the two men still asleep beside you. They’d take you out for brunch, and you’d ask them how on earth they got away from their matches to be here. But for now, you’d just lay in their arms, and fall happily asleep.

pls send horny thoughts to my inbox i wanna talk to y'all 🙏