Hi Love! May I Request Some Angst With Art Where Family Friend!reader Gets Invited To The Donaldsons

hi love! may I request some angst with art where family friend!reader gets invited to the Donaldson’s yearly fundraiser gala and they spend the night yearning and pining over art. if you can, make it as heart wrenching as possible ♡ thank you and keep up the great work!

「wrong choices」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

I'm so exited, this is the real first fic I write under request, thank you so much for requesting love, hope this is good enough for you! 🩷(didn't know if you wanted a sad or happy ending and I got carried away with an happy one, if you want an angst ending let me know)

info: angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of cheating (on reader), happy ending.

you can read the other parts here!

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You love galas, you always did: ever since you were little you and your family had to attend many galas and you would always be head over the heels at the idea of dressing with cute dresses and beautiful shoes. Yes, you love galas, especially the Donaldson's.

You've been to the Donaldson family's galas for ages and they never disappoint. No, truly, they know how to put on an event. With beautiful dresses to wear (always wearing the latest from fashion designers), incredible music- every year different- and even the best food in the state; these galas always excite you.

Another thing that made you exited about their galas was the only child of the family: the blonde, blue and brown eyed, sweet guy you met at the first gala you attended at the sweet age of six years old, Art Donaldson.

You've always liked him, when you were little he would take you around his huge villa to play whatever game you two would invent at that moment and at the end of the night your dress and his little tuxedo would be all wrinkled, sometimes dirty, hair all out of place that caused your moms to lightly scold you... but to tell the truth, neither your mother nor his cared much if at the end of the evening you both looked like you had just returned from a day of planting flowers with your bare hands. 

Things obviously changed as time went on: after Art's 17th and your 16th birthday, at least at the beginning of the evening, you seemed determined to pay attention and talk to the other guests... but it never lasted too long before Art dragged you away with him to share a bottle of wine with your feet immersed in his outdoor pool.

The last year the same thing happened. 

"Art, you can't always kidnap me when I'm talking to someone" you wanted to sound serious, you really did, but his boyish smile was too cute and the expensive wine bottle he had in his hand was too tempting. 

"Come on! don't act like you really wanted to listen to those boring conversations with those boring business men" he said, his hand dragging you by your wrist towards the pool. 

Once you were close enough he released your wrist and took off his shoes and socks, his feet in the water immediately after while you stood there, he looked at you. 

"please" he said and you scolded him with your eyes before shaking your head and taking off your heels before lifting your dress up to your thighs to avoid getting it wet, you sat down next to him, your feet touched the cool water and a sigh left your mouth, you didn't realize how bad they were hurting in the shoes.  

Art grinned at you and you looked at him skeptical "what" you ask, a fake annoyed look on your face .

"see? even your feet are thanking me" he said and you met his left shoulder with your right one. 

"shut up, you're getting ruder and ruder with each passing year" you joked and Art passed to bottle to you to take the first sip, always the gentleman. 

Art chuckled and watched as you took the first sip, the cool, smooth liquid sliding down your throat. He knew you better than almost anyone and could tell when you were being serious and when you were just acting tough to save face. 

"Don't worry, I know you secretly love me" he teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. Art took the bottle back from you, taking a small sip before speaking again "and besides, I'm not getting ruder, I'm just becoming more charming and witty."

You raised your eyebrows at him and decided not to indulge him any further "so, how is the tennis school going?" you asked and Art shrugged.

"good" he answered with a shrug. 

"and Patrick?". 

"still the same asshole" he laughed "he won't be coming to Standford with me in fall".

 "he's going in another college?" he shook his head. 

"he plans on going on a tour".

"mhhh" you said and Art looked at you suspiciously.

"you seem really interested in Patrick" his tone not as light as it was before and you raised your head to look at him, but he was already looking at the water of the pool, jaw clenched. 

There was something in Art's demeanor change that caught your attention. It was subtle, but palpable. The relaxed and playful atmosphere between you two had shifted, and Art's jaw was now tense. You knew him well enough to realize that something was bothering him, and judging by his comment about Patrick, you had an idea of what it might be. You decided to tread lightly with your next words, wanting to understand what had triggered this sudden change in his mood "what makes you say that?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

"every time we see each other you always ask about him, you saw him only once like what, 3 years ago?" he asked ironically and your eyes widened "okay, slow down Donaldson, where is this all coming from? I'm just trying to have a conversation with you" you said as gently as possible. 

Art leaned back a little, taking another swig from the bottle before responding. His tone was still a little on edge, but he knew you enough to understand you were just trying to calm things down "I know you're just trying to have a conversation, but seriously, why are you so interested in Patrick all of a sudden?" he questioned, his gaze still fixed on the water.

"I'm not interested in Patrick" your tone was serious and suddenly maintaining eyes contact with him was harder. 

Art turned to look at you, his gaze intense, searching yours. He could see the conviction in your eyes and hear it in your tone, but something was still bothering him. He paused a moment before speaking again "then why are you always asking about him?" he asked, his voice a bit softer now.

"Because I care about your life, I care about you and Patrick is a part of your life, that's all, I swear" you didn't know why, but the thought of Art thinking that you had feelings for another man felt wrong but somewhat satisfying.

Art sighed, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little. He could see the truth in your words, and his own jealousy subsided a little. "Sorry" he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess I just got a little..." he admitted, his gaze darting from you back to the pool.

"...Jealous? aw aren't you the sweetest friend ever?" you pinched his cheek with your fingers and Art laughed, his hand grasped yours to take it off his cheek, but once away from his face his hand stayed wrapped around your, his thumb caressing the back of it. 

Art's laughter filled the air, breaking the tension between you. The warmth of his hand enclosing yours sent a shiver up your spine, his thumb gently stroking your skin. There was something intimate about the touch, something that defied the boundaries of mere friendship. For a moment, you were both silent, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the pool. 

Art looked down at your joined hands, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing motion.

"I'm sorry" he said again and you shook your head. 

"It's okay" you muttered and your eyes met, the blue light of the pool shined on his face, hands still intertwined on his thigh and his eyes looked briefly at your lips. 

"what if, what if I don't want to be your friend" your heart skipped a bit.

"u-uh?" you asked.

Art swallowed hard, his gaze locked with yours. The air around you suddenly felt charged, the casual setting of the poolside now seemed intimate and intense "what are you... what are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Art's grip on your hand tightened, his thumb still tracing small circles on your skin.

Art leaned a little closer, his eyes still fixed on yours. "What I'm saying is..." he began, his voice low and serious "I don't want to be just your friend anymore" he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "I don't want to watch you talk and laugh with other men, I can't stand it, it makes me sick".

His words hung in the air between you, the atmosphere thick with tension. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the implications of what he was saying. Art's hand still held yours tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you might pull away.

"oh" you felt stupid, utterly and absolutely stupid, the guy whom you had a crush for since forever, just confessed to you and the only thing you can say is...'oh'? Art laughed. 

"Don't laugh you asshole!" you exclaimed pushing him away from you, him almost falling in the pool. 

"Can you not like... push me in the pool just cause I confessed to you?" he said between laughters and your cheeks flushed red. 

"I'm sorry you caught me off guard!" you said bringing the bottle to your mouth and taking a big sip, you couldn't have this conversation sober. 

Art finally managed to regain his balance, still laughing as he held onto the side of the pool for support. "It's okay, it's okay" he said, his laughter slowly dying down as he regained his composure.

"But seriously, you can't just say 'oh'" he teased once again, his tone turning playful again as he splashed a bit of water at you jokingly. 

You stayed silent and Art waited for you to answer, it took you all the strength you had to maintain eye contact with him "I like you too" you said, face serious and cheeks red and Art nodded. 

"oh" his tone light was clearly teasing you. 

"ok, now I'm pushing you in the pool on purpose" you said. 

Art burst into laughter at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He held up his hands in surrender "No, no, no, please don't" he said between chuckles but his tone was full of teasing. 

As he spoke, he shifted closer to you, his thigh now touching yours. He reached out and lightly pushed your shoulder, the playful gesture causing a ripple in the water between you.

Art's teasing expression quickly vanished at your expression, his hand that was still on your shoulder froze "what?" he asked, his tone slightly sharper than it was before.

"I should ask Patrik if he's single I don't think h-" your joking sentence is interrupted by his lips on yours, a hand behind your head and the other on your thigh made you immediately rest yours on his cheeks. 

Art's lips were soft and firm against yours, the taste of the expensive wine still lingered on his tongue as he kissed you passionately. His hand on your thigh moved to your waist to pull you closer to him, his fingers digging slightly into your skin through the fabric of your dress. He wanted you as close as possible, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

Your hands moved from his cheeks up to thread through his hair, slightly tugging it and eliciting a low groan from him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours. The world around you seemed to disappear as the two of you surrendered to the moment, the cool water of the pool forgotten as the heat between you grew increasingly intense.

Art pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting slightly. His eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of desire and disbelief. "You're really gonna mention another man while I'm trying to kiss you" he whispered, his voice hoarse and filled with a hint of jealousy.

“I thought you needed a little push to do that" you teased and Art kissed you again briefly "never do that again" he whispered 

The moment in the pool didn't last long after that, your parent messaging you a while after to tell you to get back to the car to go home. 

You and Art kept in contact through his first whole year at Standford but too busy to see each other, you with your last year of high school and him with exams and his tennis matches. 

So now you have one more reason to be exited about the gala of this year, you would see Art again and you couldn't wait to see what would happen this time. 

"You look beautiful" your mom says and you smile at her.

You are standing in your bedroom in front of a full-length mirror admiring yourself in your dress for the gala tonight. The dress is beautiful, hugging your curves perfectly and highlighting your features. You turn and twirl in front of the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about tonight.

"Thank you, Mom," you say as she enters the room, a smile on your lips. "I just hope Art likes it too" you add, casually tossing the comment, before mentally kicking yourself for it.

"Please, he's already head over heels for you" she jokes and for the whole drive towards the Donaldson house your legs can't stay still, your hands fussing and stirring your dress over and over again making your parents smile teasingly at you, but you pay them no mind. 

Finally, the car pulls up to the Donaldson's house and your heart beats faster at the sight of the grand, familiar building. You take a deep breath, gathering your courage and excitement, before stepping out of the car, your dress flowing behind you like a gentle whisper on the ground. 

You walk with your parents toward the entrance of the house, the sound of your stilettos echoing on the paved path. 

You step in the garden of the house and Art's parents are already there to greet your family lovingly, Art still nowhere in sight as you walk around with your parents to greet their colleagues and friends and you're only waiting for Art to sweep you off your feet like every year. 

As you continue to mingle with your parents and their friends, you keep an eye out for Art, hoping to catch a glimpse of him among the crowd. The anticipation is driving you insane, and just when you're starting to wonder where he could be, you finally catch sight of him across the garden, talking to a group of people, a girl right beside him.

She is beautiful, dark skin and long black hair that reaches her lower back, long legs and thin body wrapped in a blue short but elegant dress... but what really shocks you is his hand, clearly resting on the small of her back. Your heart stops. Your breath short and you have to grip the champagne glass tighter in your hands to avoid letting it fall on the floor. 

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Art, your Art, was standing there with another girl, his hand comfortably resting on the small of her back. You couldn't tear your eyes away from them, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation.

Arts eyes meets yours from the other side of the garden and his grin disappears when he sees your sad face "oh there is Art" his mom says and gestures for him to come where you are. As he approaches, you can feel his gaze fixed on you, but you don't meet his eyes, looking anywhere but his face until he stops in front of you, his smile faltering when he sees the expression on your face. But before he can say anything, his mother speaks up.

"Art brought one of the promises of the future female tennis tonight" she says and she smiles, you don't. 

Art's mom gestures towards the girl beside him, a proud look on her face. The girl smiles sheepishly, looking shyly at you. Art shifts uncomfortably, his hand dropping from her back as though he's suddenly aware of what it looks like.

You force a smile on your face, despite the churning feeling in your stomach.

"this is Tashi, we met at Standford" he says, his eyes don't meet yours and the lump in your throat is too big to swallow. 

The introduction feels like a dagger twisting in your chest. Tashi smiles at you gently, her eyes soft as her gaze flicks between you and Art.

"Nice to meet you," she says, her voice soft and clear. You nod awkwardly, the sound of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

"The pleasure is all mine" the exchange of pleasantries feel like nails scraping on a chalkboard. Your parents politely greet Tashi like they do with every important guest at these events, but even you can see the fake smiles plastered on their faces. They know. 

She is gorgeous and you feel small next to her... you don't get it, your dress is more elegant than hers, more beautiful but she looks so effortlessly gorgeous in hers and you feel like crying. 

The silence that follows feels like a never-ending void. Tashi doesn't speak and Art doesn't as well, his eyes finally meeting yours and you look away immediately, the betrayal in your eyes makes Art's heart clench. Your parents try to make small talk with Tashi, Art's mom jumping in as well but you just stay quiet, your chest tightening and your breath short.

As the conversation turns to the weather, the upcoming year's tennis matches and other mundane topics, your thoughts spiral out of control. Your mind is a mess of thoughts and insecurities. Why did he bring her here? Why is his hand on her back like he owns her? And why, why is he looking at you like neither he knows why he did this?

"I think everyone is gathering in the lounge for the auction," your mom says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She glances at you, noticing the tension in your shoulders "come, let's go find our seats" she adds, gently placing a hand on your back to lead you away but as the other, Art included, starts to move you stay still and your mom does too.

"actually mom, I think I'll go home" your voice trembles and your mom doesn't know what to answer. 

"you want me to come with you?" she asks but you shake your head.

"no you stay with dad, but I need to go" and she nods. 

"we'll be home as soon as possible baby" you nod and in a moment you're outside waiting for your driver to come pick you up, you feel so lost. You thought everything was going well with Art, he's been nothing but sweet for the past year and he never, ever mentioned Tashi while talking about his life at Standford.  

As the air hits your face outside, you take a deep, shaky breath... You feel lost, confused, betrayed even. Art, the guy you've been in love with for so long, the guy who kissed you the last summer, is now bringing another girl to this event, acting like they're together.  

The minutes seem to stretch on forever as you wait for your car. You don't make any attempt to wipe the tears from your face, letting them flow freely down your cheeks. You feel like a fool, standing outside the Donaldson's house, dressed up for a night that quickly turned into a nightmare.

The sound of footsteps behind you is like a punch in the gut. You know it's him without even turning around. Art's presence is unmistakable and you feel him standing behind you even before he speaks.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice soft and full of hesitation. You can feel his eyes on your back, studying you, but you don't turn around. The tears keep rolling down your cheeks and you don't have the strength to look at him right now.

Still, you shake your head in a no. 

Art's sigh echoes behind you, the disappointment he must be feeling evident in the single breath. He waits for a moment, maybe hoping you'll change your mind, but when you make no attempt to turn around or speak, he finally does. "Please, just a minute" he tries again, his voice pleading.

The desperation in his voice tugs at your heart, but you remain resolute, refusing to turn around. The memory of his hand on Tashi’s back and the sight of the two of them together flashes in your mind and you shake your head in silent answer once again.

"okay, fine" he says and you hear other footsteps, a moment later he is in front of you.

you huff in annoyance "you don't understand the signs, do you?" the tone of your voice is aggressive.

Art's eyes widen in surprise at the tone of your voice, clearly caught off guard by your sudden aggression. He opens his mouth to speak, but he seems unable to find the right words, unsure of how to respond to the hostile attitude. He takes a step forward, trying to reach for your hand, but you take a step back, preventing him from touching you.

"I understand you're upset-" he tries to speak, his voice measured but you cut him off. 

"Upset? Is that what you think I am?" you say, your voice a mix of anger and disappointment."upset that you brought another girl to this event, acting like she's the one you should be with? I'm not upset, Art. I'm hurt, hurt cause I thought what happened last summer meant something to you, hurt that in a whole year you made me believe that my feeling were reciprocated, hurt that in all those months you never, ever, mentioned a girl named Tashi and I'm hurt because I wasted a whole year of my life waiting for you!" you shout, and you think that for someone who didn't want to talk, you said a lot.

Art flinches at your words, your voice filled with pain and disappointment. He tries to speak but you don't let him, the words pouring out of your mouth like a dam breaking. "And you know what's funny? I actually thought that something would happen between us tonight. I was looking forward to seeing you again and then you come here with her like she's the one you've been waiting for all this time, fuck I feel so stupid right now" your laugh turns into a sob as you realize how foolish you feel. 

Art takes a step closer, his expression pained as he sees you unravel in front of him "you're not stupid" he says gently, his hand reaching out to cup your face instinctively, like he used to do a year ago.

"don't touch me" you say and swat his hand away.

Art's hand freezes and he retracts it quickly, the pain on his face is clear but he doesn't argue "I'm sorry" he says softly, his eyes watching you, unsure if he'll try to touch you again, "I never wanted this to happen, I mean it" he says, his eyes locked on yours, imploring you to believe him.

He takes another step towards you, now standing closer than before but not actually touching you "after we kissed that summer, I swear I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was looking forward to this night so bad" he says, his voice genuine and full of yearning "but then you told me you chose Harvard instead of Standford and... I don't know, we would be so far away and- me and Tashi, it's nothing serious" if when he started talking he felt stupid, now by looking at your face, he is sure of it.

"so you thought that keeping me on the hook for the whole year would solve everything, that you could have both of us?" 

He shakes his head "no that's not what I wanted" he answers immediately "I want you, only you... I'm sorry" Art's confession is honest and raw, his words a mix of desperation and regret "I never intended to keep you on the hook, I swear, I just didn't know how to handle things... I wanted you, I still want you" he hesitates, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again "but now I've messed up, I know. I really screwed up" he admits, his expression pleading for forgiveness.

Your car pulls up and you thank the god for the only good thing happening tonight "well, the good news is that I'm still going to Harvard so you can keep having... whatever thing is going on with Tashi" you say dismissively, the tears are still falling and right now you would love to be one of those strong women that can keep emotions under control, that can keep the eye contact with an emotionless expression and resist until they're alone to finally cry... but you're not, and you're sure you look like a mess right now. 

Art watches as your car pulls up, the sight of it bringing a new wave of desperation to his face. He takes a step forward, his hand reaching out for you again, but he stops himself, realizing that his touch is not welcome right now "please, we can talk about this?" he pleads but you brush him off. 

"Like I said, keep having whatever thing you have with Tashi" you say, your voice trembling, the tears keep falling down your face as you grab the handle but Art moves quickly, closing the door of the car before you can open it again. He stands in front of it, blocking your path, his expression determined "you're not going anywhere" he says firmly, his eyes locked on yours "we need to talk" he repeats, his voice steady despite the mess of emotions inside him. 

You can see in his expression how much he doesn't want you to leave but your heart feels like it's shattered into a million pieces and right now you're just tired "there's nothing to talk about" you say, trying to sound strong but the tears streaming down your face betray you "you were right Art, you have every right to live your college life with someone you can be close to, and I do too" you don't mean that, you know you don't. You want to be with him. But now you just want to go home and cry until you fall asleep. 

Art's expression falters at your words, hurt and disappointment etched on his face. He takes a step closer, the proximity making your body react despite the anger and pain "I don't give a damn about my college life" he says frustrated, his emotions raw and unfiltered "I wanted to be with you, I still do. Don't do this, please don't leave like this" his voice breaks slightly as he pleads you.

He reaches for your hand, grasping it in his, the feeling of his touch sending a shiver down your spine "don't run away from this, please" he says, his grip tightening slightly "we can work this out, just don't go" he repeats, his eyes pleading you to stay and talk.

"Art- please, I really want to go home" you sob and Art stills at that, his heart aches at the sound of your sob, the desperation in your voice breaking something in him. You sound so desperate and he doest know what to do anymore, if only he had talked about his insecurities sooner... 

He releases your hand, taking a step back to give you space, the conflict and pain visible on his face "I'm sorry" he says softly, his voice low and full of guilt. "If I could go back in time, I would do things so differently" he admits, rubbing a hand on his face in frustration.

You're not listening to him anymore, that much he can tell, he steps back, allowing you to climb into the passenger seat without another word. The defeat in his expression is clear, but he doesn't try to stop you anymore. The sight of you on the passenger seat, tears streaming down your face, is enough to convince him to not hurt you any further.

"I-I'll call you, ok? o-or you could call me when you're ready" he stammers but you don't say anything, you don't even shake or nod your head. 

Art stands there helplessly, watching as you refuse to respond to his words. The silence between you feels like a physical barrier, the pain and hurt creating a void that neither of you knows how to fill. He takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I really am sorry" he says again, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. Still nothing, your eyes are fixed in front of you, "okay.. goodnight" he shuts the door and watches your car drive away, the taillights growing smaller and smaller until they disappear from sight. His hands curl into fists at his side as a mixture of frustration and sadness washes over him. He had messed everything up and now he was standing there alone, his heart shattered along with yours.

Art spends the rest of the summer trying to contact you: he sends text after text, voicemail after voicemail, begging for you to talk to him and try to fix things, but every time you see his name flash on your screen you feel a pang of pain in your chest and you end up deleting his messages without opening them.

At the same time, you're busy preparing for your move to Harvard and throwing yourself into the tasks at hand, anything to distract yourself from the thoughts of Art that keep creeping into your mind.

Despite your best efforts, the thought of Art is always there, lingering in the back of your mind. Every time you pack a box or organize your new room, memories of the times you spent together flash before your eyes. And even when you're with your new college friends, sharing excitement about the upcoming year, a part of you can't help but wonder what Art is doing and if he's just as wrecked as you are.

Every time your fingers hover over Art's name on your phone, a mix of longing and fear washes over you. You want to hear his voice, to pour out your heart and ask if he's feeling the same ache you are, but the fear of finding out that he has moved on, that he's happy without you stops you every time. You feel stuck between the need to reach out and the fear of what you might find.

The first two months at Harvard are a whirlwind of new experiences, but they're also marked by the new, completely absence of Art that stopped calling since the start of the college year. The silence from him is deafening, and the realization that he's moved on stings more with each passing day. Every time you think about him, your heart clenches as if the wound is still fresh. You try to push the thoughts aside, but the memories and the ache for him persist, refusing to let you fully move on.

It's a sunny October day, the sun is shining brightly, a warm contrast to the slightly chilly autumn breeze that brushes against your face as you're walking with your new friends, everyone chattering away excitedly about the upcoming autumn break. Your eyes are fixed on the path in front of you, as you're listening to your friends speaking, laughs loud and your smile genuine

"ok girls don't look now, but a really cute guy is looking at our Y/N right now, on the left, the one leaned against the wall" your friend's words catch your attention and you try hard not to look but curiosity gets the best of you and almost instinctively, you and your friends simultaneously turn to the left, your heads swiveling to catch a glimpse of the guy leaning against the wall.

The moment you turn, your heart stops. Your steps falter and your eyes widen as you recognize the figure standing there. It's Art. His eyes immediately connect with yours and time seems to freeze.

He smiles, clearly insecure, but smiles and you can see a mixture of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes, yours rakes over his body to take him in: he is wearing a dark blue quarter zip, a white shirt underneath, light blue jeans and white sneakers, his hands in his front pocket and his hair are messy from the wind going through them. 

"Do you know him?" your friend's question breaks the intense moment of eye contact between you and Art and you're snapped back to reality. You try to speak, but your mouth seems to have forgotten how to form words, the words are stuck in your throat, along with all the emotions that are now swirling inside you.

Your friends are looking at you, a mix of curiosity and confusion on their faces. One of them repeats the question, nudging your shoulder slightly to bring you back to the present. You swallow hard, still unable to find your voice, your eyes darting back to Art who's still standing there, watching you with a mixture of hope and nervousness in his eyes "uhm yeah, he is an old friend" you mutter.

Your voice comes out soft and a bit shaky as you finally manage to speak and they exchange a knowing glance as they realize that there's more to your relationship with Art. 

"we should leave them alone, we'll save a place for you" one of them say and the others nod, you feel a mixture of nervousness and anticipation as you watch your friends walk away, their forms shrinking in the distance in the orange Harvard park.

 As you take a tentative step towards Art, time seems to slow down, each movement feeling weighted under his intense gaze. Your heart is beating faster, and you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You try to keep your expression neutral, but it’s difficult to hide the mixture of anticipation and anxiety that you feel.

His gaze never leaves your face, watching your every move as he moves away from the wall "what are you doing here?" you ask breathless and it's a miracle Art heard you. 

"I called you" he says. 

 You nod "I know". 

Art takes a few steps towards you "You never answered" there is no accusation in his voice and you nod.

"I know".

The silence hangs heavy between you "college life suits you, you look beautiful". 

"what are you doing here?" you ask and Art looks at his shoes before forcing himself to maintain eye-contact.

"I missed you" he answers immediately and suddenly the wall behind Art is really interesting. 

"you could have sent me a message, it would have been less expensive". 

"would you have answered me this time?" you open your mouth to answer him but nothing that would be the truth comes out.

"probably not" he laughs at that, but there's a hint of melancholy in that laugh, mixed with a tinge of understanding. 

"I guess that's fair" he says, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. He takes a moment to collect himself before continuing "I thought coming here was the only way to see you" he confesses, his voice softer now.

Your arms are crossed, a subtle barrier between you and him as you listen to his words. He looks sincere and a pang of guilt twists in your stomach when he mentions that he thought this was the only way to see you. You know you could have answered his messages or calls, but something in you wouldn't allow it.

"You could've answered one of my calls even if to just scream at me or to tell me to fuck off". 

You chuckle weakly "maybe I should have. But I was... I was really hurt and confused" you admit, your voice slightly shaky. He takes a step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking even more.

"I'm sorry" he mutters, he takes your face in his hands and you let him, he missed your skin in his hands, you nod, again.

"I know you are" you murmur.

"I love you" your eyes widens. 

Art's hands feel warm and familiar on your face, and you let him hold you. Your hands grip his sweater, holding on to him as if you're scared he might disappear. Tears start to form in your eyes.

"oh" you mentally facepalm yourself and close your eyes as tight as you can, you can hear Art suppress a laugh. 

"yeah... 'oh'... you should really work on a better way to react to good news".

"Art... what you said that night is true, we are so far away now and I don't want us to suffer the long distance" he shakes his head as you speak. 

"No, no I was wrong, never been more wrong. If there are two people who can do it is us" he assures you. 

"but what about Tashi?" you ask and Art takes a deep breath, his hands still holding your face. The mention of Tashi's name hangs in the air for a moment, and your insecurity is almost palpable to him. He looks into your eyes as he tries to find the right words to say. 

"I don't care about Tashi, I never did" he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction "all I care about is you and only you. You're the one I love, you're the one I want to be with. Tashi is nothing to me" Art's grip on your face tightens slightly as he speaks. His eyes search yours, attempting to convey the sincerity behind his words.

"I'm sorry about everything, I swear I'll do anything you want me to do! I can come here every week-end and we'll spend the vacations together or I can transfer here, I can play tennis here too-" your lips interrupt his ramble but he doesn't waste time to return it. Art's lips move against yours with a mixture of passion and desperation, as if he's finally found what he's been searching for.

As the kiss deepens, Art's hands on your waist pull you impossibly close, closing the already small gap between your bodies. You can feel the hunger and need in his touch, the months you've spent apart making the kiss even more intense.

"god- fuck, I missed you so much" his words against your lips are even sweeter than the kiss itself and you feel like melting in his arms, you missed him too "you have no idea how much I missed you" he mutters before capturing your lips again in a bruising kiss. 

Your cheeks are not cold anymore, your entire body feels hot with affection and you mutter an 'I love you' that makes Art pull back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he listens to the words you whisper. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he repeats them "I love you too". You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his hands on your waist keeping you closer than ever.

"you don't have to move here for me, we can make this work" you reassure him and finally a genuine and wide smile takes space on your face for him again. 

Art visibly relaxes at your words, the tension leaves his shoulders and he lets out a small sigh of relief "really?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Your reassurance washes away some of his worries, and he allows himself to believe that it could actually work, that you could make it work despite the distance.

"really". 

"so we're okay now- ow!" Art winces as your hand connects with the side of his head, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. 

"Now we're okay" you smile in victory. 

"I guess I deserved that" he says rubbing the spot where you slapped him. Despite the gentle reprimand, his eyes are filled with relief and happiness as he nods "yeah, we're okay now" he affirms, a warm smile spreading across his face.

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Do not copy or repost.

please please please I need someone to write some fluff for Art Donaldson x reader, if I read another smut I'll have to jump in a pool of holy water-

I need this tattooed on my face

who else gasped

Love your works!

I wanted yo ask you if you were planning on writing a part 2 for "the, not so, other woman"

thanks! I would like to write a part two of it but I'm not even sure of what I could write more, if you have any suggestion I'll gladly think about it, requests are open!

「alarms and compromises」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

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the alarm ringing loudly in Art's dorm room stirs you awake, your boyfriend's body under you is still sound asleep and you hurry to reach for the alarm to turn it off before Art can wake up and move on with his day.

You cuddle on him again, a content sigh leaves your lips, Art is just barely awake as he smiles to himself. He doesn't say anything, he just hugs you tightly and shuts his eyes again

The alarm rings again 10 minutes later and this time it's Art who moves to turn it off, "noooo stay with me" you whine and bring him closer to you. 

 "you know I can't baby, I have training" he says sweetly but you shake your head. 

"no you don't, you're confused".

Art laughs softly at your attempt to keep him in the bed, "you talk like you're not the one who reminds me when I have practice" he rubs his cheek tiredly.

"I didn't know that being a good girlfriend would backfire on me" you huff, but still your hand grabs his arm to turn him on his side and towards you, away from the edge of the bed, you make him wrap his arm around your waist while your head snuggles in his chest, your left thigh rests on his hip over his boxers.

"you are the best girlfriend but I can't skip practice... again, my coach will get mad" his left arms wraps around your shoulder and the other caress your thigh and ass lovingly "you're making it really hard to go, you know that right?" he asks.

"That's the whole point" you answer even if you know he is right and that he must go... but in your defense you didn't spend much time together in the last few weeks: with finals coming up and his tournaments it's difficult to have dates and you never felt as touch starved as you feel now.

Art can feel the slight neediness in the way you cling to him, and he knows that it's been a while since you two had some alone time, he misses you too. He kisses the top of your head, "I promise, I'll make it up to you later, okay? I'll take you out anywhere you want, as long as you let me go now" he proposes and you seem to think about it. 

"fine" you reluctantly release his body and Art grins as you let go of him, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, "thank you" he says with a chuckle before sitting up on the edge of the bed, his arms stretching over his head and you watch as the naked muscles of his back stretch too.

He gets up and walks towards the closet to grab his tennis set before going towards the bathroom you close your eyes again, now his pillow in your arms to hug it. He comes out a few minutes later, fully dressed and ready for his practice. His eyes darts again towards his bed to see you hugging his pillow and a smile grows in his face as his feet carry him towards you. He sits back down on the edge of the bed and gently combs your hair with his fingers to get your attention, you look up at him with sleepy eyes and a pout on your face. 

He looks so good dressed in the red Standford shirt and black shorts, messy blond and curly hair kept under his backwards hat and his eyes clearly still tired from sleep.

"how am I meant to go when you look like that?" he teases as he takes the pillow from your arms to put it behind you.

"You're a bad boyfriend" you joke getting closer to him, your body curled around him makes his mind wander to all the things he's been missing the last few weeks and for a moments he thinks that he still has time to strip down and join you in the bed again even if he knows he can't. 

He laughs while his hand moves over towards your waist to caress it softly "hey listen" his other hand shows you his dorm key "I'll leave the key here so you can close the door when you get out, ok?" you nod. 

"I'll bring it back to you when you finish your training" you say as he leaves the small key on the bedside table. 

"Sounds good to me, I'll see you later?" his face close to yours and you nod, his lips touches yours, his minty breath on your lips makes you sigh even if the kiss ends too soon. 

Art steps back a few paces and looks down at you with a small smile: your body covered by his shirt and wrapped in his sheets is almost too much to resist and he has to look away from you to get out of this damn room, "I love you" he says grabbing his tennis bag, you answer back immediately. 

"I love you too, have a nice practice! and tell your coach to fuck off" 

Art laughs loudly at your comment "I'll make sure to let him know you send your kind regards" he turns to look at you once last time "see you later baby" he says again and he closes the door behind him only after seeing your sweet smile.

He already knows he won't be able to get through the day without thinking of you in his bed.

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Sooner or later I'll find the courage to write a decent smut, but today is not the day yet.

Advices, suggestions and reblogs are always accepted and appreciated!

Do not copy or repost.

「bathtubs and requests」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

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"you should move in with me" Art's voice echoes off the bathroom walls of his apartment, it's all so relaxing: the heat of the water around your bodies, his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you are so comfortable that it takes a while for you to realize what he just said.

"what?"

"you heard me" he murmurs against your neck "come live with me" an incredulous laugh leaves your mouth and you try to turn completely towards him, but his arms clench tighter around you and prevent you from moving enough to do so.

"may I ask why you are asking this now?" you move slightly to the side to see his face emerging from the hollow of your neck.

"I feel like we're ready to do it" his eyes avoid yours and focus instead on his fingers as they start caressing your shoulder "and it's also the next logical step in our relationship."

"You think so?" this time, despite Art's protests, you turn towards him: your breasts press against the boy's chest and his eyes fall down quickly before being brought back to yours by the hand under his chin. The tease is evident on your face and Art feels his ears warm up quickly to the realization of being caught in the act.

"I know so" and kisses the smile off your lips to distract you.

"My answer is not a no, but how do we know that our relationship is ready for this?" you ask him and, without realizing it, the agitation inside you rises: how did you know if you were ready for this step? and if you break up because you went too fast?

The tennis player frowns "what do you mean?" and the sight in front of you distracts you for a second: Art sits back against the back of the tub to stand more upright and listen to you better, his arms, after moving his curly damp hair out of his face, leans on the edges of the tub, his wet and smooth chest shines and his legs are open and bent to the sides to give you more space between them. If you weren't so determined to finish the topic you are having you'd kiss him to death, but you're a woman on a mission and you can't get distracted.

"I mean, some of my behaviors might irritate you or we might fight about serious things and then we wouldn't be able to run away from our problems by going back to our apartment, we'd have to deal with these situations and be mature about what bothers us and-"

"love, you're getting worked up over nothing" he says and his expression relaxes into a smile: now that he understood that your reasons are motivated only by insecurity and not by the fact that you don't want to take the next step with him, he feels it will be easier to convince you otherwise.

"You see? this is exactly what I'm talking about! if we move in together we can't belittle each other's feelings and concerns like this. It wouldn't be healthy and-"

"love," he interrupts you again, and your hands that were gesturing in the air fall on his chest, your eyes avoid his.

Out of your mouth comes a small "…yes?" that makes the man in front of you chuckle.

"we're ready" his calm tone makes its way into your chest "we're 24 years old and we've been together since we were 19, we both have a steady job and we already know everything about each other, there's nothing you can tell me that will change my mind".

"what if we fight?"

"I can't promise you we won't fight, we fight even now that we don't live together, but it seems to me that we are pretty good at making up, if we fight we will solve it as always" it's true, you never went beyond a day without talking to each other, even if you were angry.

"what if we break up?"

"It won't happen," he answers immediately, his fingers move the locks of hair behind your ears and then rest his hands on your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

His head lowers to chain your eyes together and you look up to facilitate his task "I won't let it happen", the security in his eyes makes you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Your eyes move around to look at the bathroom, "but I wouldn't be able to pay half the rent of this apartment"

"I don't care about that".

"but-"

"If you really want to pay something, we can split the bills," he answers hastily, at the moment Art doesn't care about how to split the expenses, he would pay everything if it meant he could spend the rest of his life next to you… he just needs your 'yes'.

Your face gets close to his, your lips a few inches away.

"okay" his eyes still fixed in yours

"'ok' what?" his smile gets brighter, he wants to hear you say it.

"I'll move in with you" you smile too.

"that's what I like to ear" he kisses you again.

Now he only has to ask you to marry him… but that will have to wait a little longer.

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Hope you guys will like it as much as I liked writing it! 🩷

(in this fic he still has long hair cause I said so)