#daddy art

he met you outside, flowers in hand, a nervous smile on his face as you stepped out of the suv, looking around curiously. god, if you were beautiful in scrubs, you were downright lethal in a dress, your long legs on display for him, leaving him speechless. “you didn’t have to do all this,” you smiled up at him, admiring the flowers, admiring the way he looked in his suit, “you’re so sweet,”

“pretty flowers for a pretty girl,” he looped your hand around his arm as he lead you inside, nearly shivering at the feeling of your skin, “reservation for donaldson,” the hostess led you to a secluded table, a bottle of wine and two glasses already out, just as he requested. he pulled your chair out for you, reminding himself of all the ways he’d been taught by his grandma to be a gentlemen, smiling as he sat across from you. “this place is gorgeous,” you smiled, glancing around, “you really did not have to do all of this, art,”

“i wanted to,” he shrugged, “you deserve to be taken out somewhere nice, anyway. it’s the least i could do,” “you’re just sayin that because you like how i massage your shoulders,” you teased, sipping your wine, “oh! speaking of, i found my replacement. he’ll be starting next week,” “i didn’t want a replacement,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “but i suppose i trust your judgement,” “well if i was still your therapist, i couldn’t do this,” you took his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “and i certainly couldn’t go back to your apartment tonight,”

“who said i wanted you to come home with me?” he taunted, but you both knew he was bluffing, could tell from the way his eyes trailed all over you near constantly. “be a shame if you didn’t,” you grinned, “you look really nice, by the way. i didn’t say that before,” “you look beautiful,” he smiled softly, “really. you look absolutely perfect,”

the entire night was perfect, really. your conversation never slowed, and he found himself, not for the first time, in awe of how easy it was with you. with other women, he’d overcompensated, always feeling like he had to prove something to them, or to himself. with you, though? words flowed out of him like it was the simplest thing in the world, never once concerned that you’d think he was weird or not funny or anything other than just himself.

you stayed so late the restaurant had started closing around you, other tables being cleaned off quietly as you two chattered on, oblivious to anyone but each other until the server very kindly informed you they needed to close up. art laughed, apologizing and leaving a $100 on the table, making you even more confident in your opinion that he was the kindest man you’d ever known.

he walked you to his car, opening the door for you and watching idly as you slid into the leather seats, his hand coming to your thigh the second he got in beside you. “do you want me to take you home?” he asked, tracing shapes on your knee absentmindedly. “we could go to yours,” you suggested, goosebumps over your skin, “if you wanted, i mean. i’ve never seen your house,” “you’re not missing much,” he laughed softly, “but i’d love for you to come over,”

the drive was quiet, music playing in the background as you hummed along just loud enough for him to hear, a small smile on his lips the entire way. he led you to his house, giving you a half-effort tour, watching as you looked around, taking in his space. “you’re like, really rich,” you finally said, laughing, “i guess i didn’t realize, but your house is insane,” “i’m not that rich,” he blushed, “i mean, i do well for myself, but it’s not insane,” “art, how much did you even pay for this?” you grinned, smoothing out his blazer, your hands pressed to his chest. “800,” he rolled his eyes, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand, trailing his lips down to your wrist. “600 thousand?” you repeated incredulously, “that’s insane, art,” “mm, maybe,” he didn’t care anymore, abandoning the conversation as he kissed up your forearm, up the crook of your elbow to your shoulder, “does it matter?”

“well, no, it doesn’t matter,” your voice had gone all light and breathless, “i was just wondering,” “do you like it?” he hummed, pulling you flush against him by your waist. “of course,” you nodded, cheeks warm as you looked up at him, took in the way his eyes were half lidded. “then i guess it does matter,” he smiled slightly, brushing your hair from your neck, ghosting his lips over your pulse, “i like it much more now,”

“oh,” a soft, surprised sound left you as he nipped lightly at your neck, “should we- do you wanna go upstairs?” “thought you’d never ask,” he grinned, not hesitating as he looped his arms under your legs, picking you up to carry you through the house. “art!” you squealed, slapping his chest lightly, “put me down!” “and why would i go and do something like that?” he teased, pulling you up closer so he could kiss your forehead before starting up the stairs, ignoring your protests. he dropped you gently on the bed with a huff, smiling down at you as you pouted, taking your jaw in his hand lightly, “pretty girl,” he hummed appreciatively, “don’t pout,”

“maybe i don’t appreciate being thrown around,” you huffed, the smile in your eyes giving you away. “somehow i don’t think i believe that,” he teased, repositioning to you to join you on the bed, eyes and hands everywhere, “i think you’d like it quite a bit if i threw you around,” he grinned as you shivered slightly, leaning into his touch, “don’t be a tease, art,” “who said i’m teasing you? i’m just talkin to you,” he murmured, lips brushing your shoulder, “am i wrong, baby?” “mm, maybe,” you giggled lightly as his breath fanned over a spot on your neck, “you’ll have to find out,”

“now who’s being a tease?” he grinned, a satisfied hum leaving him as you took his arm in your hand, massaging it gently. “can tell i haven’t seen you in a week,” you tsk’d, “you’re so tense. you’ve been working it all week, haven’t you?” “been running drills, yeah,” he nodded, wincing slightly as you worked out a knot in his bicep, “just practicing,” “what did i tell you about pushing yourself?” you scolded softly, “you need a warm shower to loosen all this up,” “did you forget you’re my date and not my physio?” he teased, “but yes ma’am, i promise to take a nice warm shower tomorrow,” “you should do it now,” you mumbled, brows knit in concentration as you massaged up his shoulder, over the old surgery scars, “i can wait here,”

“you can’t possibly expect me to pause our date to shower,” he rolled his eyes, sighing softly as you hit a particularly tender spot, “i can wait,” “i’ll come with you,” you didn’t think twice before you said, the words sparking the space between the two of you. a boyish smile crossed his lips, “yeah? gonna shower with me, doctor?” “art, don’t be gross,” you whined, scrunching up your nose, “i’m not showering with you as your doctor,” “yeah? you showering with me as my pretty little date?” he hummed, still grinning as he kissed your jaw, “come on then,”

his bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house, all marble and soft lighting, a small sauna situated in the corner. he started the water, unbuttoning his dress shirt and hanging it over the door, smiling to himself as he watched you slip off your heels, setting them by the vanity. “you’re so beautiful,” he said almost to himself, taking off his slacks and undershirt, now just in his boxers. “can’t get this off,” you huffed, looking at him over your shoulder as you fought with the zipper along the back of your dress, “can you?”

he was all too eager, coming to your side in an instant, one hand settled on your low back as he unzipped the material, looking over every inch of your back as he let the fabric fall to the floor. you stood in front of him in just your underwear, a bra apparently not suitable for that dress, and shivered as he traced his fingertips over your spine, humming quietly. “go on, i’ll be there in a minute,” you said softly, missing his touch the minute he left. “don’t take too long,” he said playfully, stepping out of his boxers before stepping into the water, closing the shower door behind him. you joined him soon after as promised, pupils dilated as you took in the image of him under the falling water, “hi,”

“hi,” he let out a breathless laugh, pulling you under the water with him by your waist, “you get more beautiful with each second, i think,” “i don’t know about that,” you laughed softly, shaking your head, “here, let me-“ you took the shower head from its mount, letting the water run directly over his shoulders and upper back, smiling to yourself at his sigh. “gotta start taking better care of yourself,” you murmured, one hand guiding the shower head and the other massaging his back, “y’hear me? gonna end up havin to get another surgery if you keep on,” “i know what i’m doing,” he argued tiredly, back arching into your touch, “i’m not that old,” “didn’t say you were old,” you grinned, “just worry about you. i know how hard you push yourself,” “you keep touching me like that i’m liable to do anything you say,” he hummed, his head tossed back, “god, baby, you’re so good at that,”

you clicked the shower head back in it’s mount, your free hand going over the taut muscles of his mid back, the other reaching around to rest on his abs, “just like taking care of you,” you said softly, resting your chin on his shoulder as much as you could reach, “can feel those muscles relaxing,” he took the hand rested on his abs, gently guiding it lower, biting his lip as you exhaled a surprised, quick breath as your hand wrapped around his cock. “d’you always get so hard when i work on you?” your voice was low, teasing but sultry. he pulled you around, pressing you against the shower wall easily, “are you teasing again?” he pressed a warm kiss to your jawline, “be nice, baby,” “

“i’m always nice,” you protested, eyes falling closed as he trailed his kisses lower. “mhm,” he hummed into your skin, open mouthed and greedy as he worked his way lower. “i’ll show you,” you lowered to your knees before him, grinning up at him at his surprised expression, “i’ll be so nice, art, promise,” he sucked in a breath as you took him into your mouth, glossy lips parting just for him, all warm and wet and his. he kept a light grip on your hair as you took him deeper, humming around him as he brushed the back of your throat, your eyes watering slightly. “oh, fuck,” his eyes rolled back, thighs tensing, “you’re so good f’me, baby,”

a low, satisfied hum left your throat again, vibrating around him enough to have him gripping your hair harder, his hips bucking forward. your tongue swirled around his tip as you pulled back to catch your breath. your hand pumping the rest of him, watching his reactions intently. “need to fuck you,” he managed to get out between pants and broken moans, “god, you’re doing so good,”

he pulled you up gently, desperate to be inside you, pressing you against the wall until your cheek was flush against it, looking at him over your shoulder as he kissed you hungrily. he placed one hand on your low back to keep you steady as he slid inside you, a sharp hiss of breath leaving him, his brows furrowed, “oh, god,” he leaned over you, warm against your back as he thrusted slowly, snaking his arm around your waist to hold you up, “that feel good, baby?” he buried his head in your shoulder, kissing the taut skin absentmindedly. “so good,” you moaned, clenched tight around him, thighs shaking. he dragged his hand lower, pressing his index finger to your clit as he fucked you faster, “such a good girl,”

you were clawing at nothing, nails scratching over the shower wall as you struggled to stay up, his pace relentless. “i got you, baby,” he hummed, feeling your knees nearly give out, beneath him. he pulled out briefly, nearly grinning at the whine of protest you gave him, before pressing your back against the wall, looping his arms underneath your thighs. “what’re you-“ he picked you up fully, sliding you down on his cock, your legs wrapped around his torso, “oh, art, fuck,” he pounded into you, gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, catching your lips in a needy kiss. he was obsessed with this new angle, the way he could kiss you and look down to see himself inside you, almost overwhelmed by it. your back arched off the wall, pressing your chest against his, your nails leaving searing scratches down his back, “oh,” he panted between kisses, “you’re grippin’ me so tight, baby, you gonna cum f’me? gonna cum on my cock?” “yes yes yes-“ you were a babbling mess, your legs tightening around him, pulling him impossibly deeper, “art- daddy, fuck!”