jesuistrestriste

[jesuistrestriste]

and if i said that i actively play love and deepspace would you guys judge me

[jesuistrestriste]

I just need to put a vibrator into Art and make him slowly lose it throughout the day. I’ve been literally dreaming about it. Watching him try not to cry and whimper as he cums untouched. Yummy! Turning it up whenever he begs to catch a break. Delicious.

urghh giving him little looks from across the room when you press one of the buttons on the remote and turn up the intensity. watching his face contort as he instantly clamps his thighs together, crossing and uncrossing his legs in a way that only makes his pleasurable discomfort more obvious—only makes it more obvious that something is going on. and gets hard so fast. he has to readjust himself in his pants so that his boner doesn’t tent the fabric. he’s glaring at you and swallowing down moans when you turn it back down. and then maybe when he’s in conversation with someone, a close friend—maybe patrick, you turn the vibrator to its highest setting and watch his knees buckle. he basically doubles over and clutches his leg, digging his fingers in. the friend is scrambling to his side to help him get steadied on his feet, asking him what’s wrong, but art obviously can’t explain that he’s about to come right then and there in his boxers .. he hopes they just assume he has a cramp

[jesuistrestriste]

I #fainted and now I have a #migraine and I have to make myself #dinner but I don't wanna #faint again

where is Artrick to take care of me in these trying times :(

Imagining being at one of their doubles matches, and they win and immediately turn to look for me to celebrate, but instead they see me on the ground just outside the court with a bunch of people surrounding me bc I passed out... and they just run for me and clear everyone off so they can take care of me instead :( I wanna be their special girl I wanna be their chronic illness girlfriend........ sigh 😞

Art would carry meds and electrolyte packets and protein bars in his pockets and Patrick would somehow always know where a water bottle was at ALL times........ Patrick wouldn't say a word abt it but he'd secretly spend hours on his laptop researching my condition and then try to play it off like he's just REALLY good at taking care of me

Alright now I gotta go make food everybody pray I don't collapse 🙌🏻

awwh:( they really would be the most caring, attentive partners when you’re not feeling good. (esp art, but im biased)

always checking in on you, giving you massages, reminding you about any meds and helping you take them, packing any special items just in case you have a flare-up when you’re all out of the house, etc. ugh

[jesuistrestriste]

Sage, this isn't a ask. But I just wanted to say I adore you. As a soft(ish) femdom who struggles to find media that represents her, your work is sooo perfect (it's literally like you're inside my brain). And the way you write is just so...*Mwah*🤌🏽😘, chefs kiss. Like I'm obsessed.

aaa ! ! ! this literally makes me soso happy ♥️♥️

i totally understand what you mean. while i think femdom stuff is growing more mainstream little by little, most smut/nsfw content still puts the woman (or femme presenting person) in a position of submission. i write what id want to read, so im so glad that you feel like you can find your preferred kind of content here:3

[jesuistrestriste]

I wanna slap arts bare ass. Whether as a punishment or just walking by. Ugh

his arch is crazy. i know he’s hyperaware of the fact that he has a nice butt. i think if you slapped his ass in the morning while he’s making breakfast he’d get all giggly and his ears would go red. and if you laid him over your lap one night, tugged down his shorts, and spanked him.. he’d definitely get hard

[jesuistrestriste]

gooner!art would never leave your side if he found out you could squirt🙂‍↕️ he lays with his face on the stain you left on his sheets so he can start and end his day humping his bed thinking of you (he also sucks on those sheets like it’s emotional support)

have u ever seen that picture of that girl’s childhood blanket that she couldn’t throw away and it literally just turned into one long dirty string.

thats how the sheets would look after art was finished with them. he would not let them GO. like he’s rubbing himself against the stain, burying his nose in it, licking it until his tongue hurts, bunching up the fabric around his cock and using it to jerk himself off. yea. he would be obsessed

[jesuistrestriste]

I need to make Art and Patrick makeout the way tashi did but between my legs

you’re onto something

their mouths fighting for certain parts of you, licking at each other’s tongues and bumping shoulders as they moan into your core. you’ve got a hand in each head of hair, and you’re tugging and squeezing while they lap at your folds and over your most sensitive spot. they huff at one another like disgruntled dogs when one of them gets in the way of the other, but you fix this by guiding their faces to collide—urging them to kiss and make-up before they finish you off:3

[jesuistrestriste]

tits🫵

if art donaldson has anything it’s an amazing rack

[jesuistrestriste]

so sometimes onlyfans or ppl on sites like those will make a video moaning all their subscribers names and i’m picturing that with gonner!art 🤭

or he pays for a private video. cums instantly but watched it so many times. she’s rubbing her clit and saying his name with her brows all furrowed. his poor cock.

he would ABSOLUTELY pay for that. he would pay extra for that, actually. and he would count down the hours/days until its time for the creator to post the video. it’s like a holiday for him. two boxes of tissues on his desk, his laptop plugged-in and already fully charged, bottle of lotion and tub of vaseline sat out and ready for use. anyone who walked into his room would know exactly what was about to go down.

but yea. him paying for private/custom videos from his favorite onlyfans creators—asking them to say his name and tell him what a dirty perv he is for jerking off so much everyday. requesting that they tell him to keep pumping like the sick little freak he is.

when those videos get to him.. ooh, when they get to him.. he’s barely got his hand on himself before he’s cumming all over his lap and arching his back in his chair. clean up and repeat for the next few hours. just orgasm after orgasm after orgasm, listening to these creators degrade him. it’s paradise.

[jesuistrestriste]

him and his white tee shirts.. please

MIKE FAIST IN

CHALLENGERS — IN CONVERSATION: BAFTA Q&A

[jesuistrestriste]

sage i NEED dilf!art pulling down his baby blue pajama pants and getting pegged ib: the end of your last art getting pegged ask

it’s the end of a long day.

art has been working on his laptop all afternoon and evening, the sun now below the horizon as the apartment gets bathed in warm, artificial light from lamps scattered around the living room. he’s still in his pajamas from this morning. a white tee shirt. soft blue joggers. he sighs as he closes his device and lolls his head back against the couch.

you arrive back at your guys’ place just as he’s beginning to relax into the cushions. kicking off your shoes and shutting the door behind you, your keys jingling in your hand as you walk up behind him. you kiss his cheeks, stroke his short blonde hair, and then whisper to him.

“hi, baby.”

he’s melting into you like softened butter. his pretty blues blinking open tiredly as he pulls himself up from the couch and walks over to you. his arms encircle your frame. “mmn.. made you dinner, it’s on the stove..” he murmurs into your neck.

you nod and run a hand down his spine, reveling in the way it arches under your touch. curving into a perfect arc as he shudders. a soft hum of approval leaves your lips, and then you slip out of his hold to walk down the hall and into the bedroom.

it was a happy accident, really. you’d only gone in there to get out of your work clothes. it wasn’t really your fault that the strap at the back of the closet caught your eye. it’d been a while since you’d bent art into all kinds of pretty positions and made him moan so loud that the neighbors had to leave a note on your door the next morning..

you come out of the bedroom and place your hands on your hips, smirking softly as you walk up to your husband. he’s standing in the kitchen and pouring the both of you a glass of sweet wine. he smiles when he feels you approach, but his face immediately drops when he turns and takes in the sight of you. black, lacy lingerie.. his favorite set.. and the rubbery purple strap bobbing in front of your pelvis. he swallows thickly, his breathing picking up—his chest beginning to rise and fall quickly. his stomach swoops. four of his fingers swipe over your torso, and then he’s biting his bottom lip.

“oh, god, please..”

it doesn’t take much more than that before you’re tugging him against you and flipping him around so that you can bend him over the marble countertop. he winces when his cheek presses into the cold surface, but then squirms—whimpers—and reaches back to pull down his pajama bottoms. his black briefs come down right after. you suck two of your fingers into your mouth, covering them in spit, and then ease them inside him. it’s so easy to work him open nowadays, it’s like your touch is a muscle relaxant.

“aah—fuck—“ he moans, his brow pinching up as he claws at the counter.

you prod at the sensitive gland inside his walls until he’s squeezing your digits for more, his cock leaking and hanging heavily between his legs.

“ready?” you ask.

he nods, “fuck me, need it, just fuck me, baby..”

you pull your slick touch away from him and then guide the tip of the dildo into his hole. your free hand pushes down on the center of his back, fisting his tee. “good boy.. taking me so well..”

he keens as he feels you slide into him and bottom out, and then he’s groaning as he tries to rock back against your pelvis.

once you’re completely inside, you slide your touch to his hips and begin building a rhythm. in and out and in and out and in and out, but it’s still too agonizingly slow for art. it always is. he much prefers when you’re thrusting so hard that he can’t even speak. it’s better that way.

“want more?” you murmur, groping his ass with one hand as the other moves from his hip to his hair, tugging his head up from the counter, “want me to go faster?”

he chokes around a wet cry; his chin is already covered in drool, glistening like quartz.

you take that as a yes.

rearing back, you pull out four inches before slamming them back in—the motion punching a ragged gasp from his lungs. you lean over his back, pressing your chest to it, and lick over the back of his exposed neck. “thaaat’s it, take it, take it, take it, artie..”

your hips move a mile a minute now as you pummel into him, the slap of skin on skin echoing out and bouncing off of the walls. he’s a beautiful, disastrous combination of shaky limbs and tense muscles and broken moans that make him sound like he’s dying. every thrust elicits a sharp gasp or a sob from him. this is the way he likes it. when he can’t move or think or speak without your say-so. when you’ve got him so close to the edge that he gets dizzy.

“t—tou—mngh!—m’fuck, ah, ah, touch—‘m s’hard, it hurts—“

you fuck him rougher.

his eyes roll back.

“want me to touch your cock? is that what you want?”

a nod of his head.

“if i touch you down there, are you gonna make a mess of our flooring?”

another nod. he gulps down a yelp.

“fine then.. only because i know you worked so hard today.. and you missed me.. and you made dinner..” you smirk.

he nods at all of it. he has worked so hard. he needs this—he needs you.

you move the hand in his hair to his length, and a swell of heat thrums in your gut at the feel of him. he’s throbbing and wet and absolutely burning in your hold. he’s so, so close to losing it, you know that for sure now. as soon as he feels your fingers curl around his shaft, his hips jolt and his balls draw up. his jaw slacks open. and then his eyes flutter and squeeze shut. you know that look. you know it too well.

he’s about to—

“i’m—!” he wails, and then he’s convulsing below you, his abdomen contracting against the counter as his knees buckle.

he comes.

hard.

it splurts from his tip like a fountain. gushing between your fingers and sticking like melted ice cream. you fuck him through it all, letting the strap bruise his prostate as you milk him dry.

“ugh, you’re cumming so hard, don’t stop,” you groan out encouragingly, rubbing yourself against the harness, watching him shudder and pant and writhe with the waves of pleasure that lap at his nerves.

you pump him in your hand until he starts to hiccup and whimper. he’s drained of nearly all of his energy, but he musters up just enough to let out a soft sob.

“t’much,” he slurs.

he’d push your touch away if he could. any more and he’d probably pass out. stars are already spattered in his vision, his face prickling with heat.

you give him one last down-stroke and let the remains of his load dribble out. his cock kicks in your hold.

“ah, aah, ah.. done, please, fuck..”

you kiss his shoulder, stroking his hair. the strap stays buried in him, all seven rubbery inches being held in his warmth. it’s almost painfully good.

“i love it when you do that,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt.

“ngh.. do what?” he wipes at his mouth, the excess saliva being cleared away. the blush on his face burns brighter when he realizes just how much you’ve wrecked him. it’s not surprising, but it always gets him a little embarrassed.

“when you let yourself get lost in it.”

he sniffles and tries to push himself up from the marble, but his biceps are trembling too hard and he just collapses back down. a little pained noise leaves his lips. you shush him and stroke his jaw.

“just relax.. i’m still inside you.. i’ve got you..”

it’s hard for him to not be able to see your face after he orgasms. to not be able to hold you, and be held. but he knows he’s gotta listen and calm down if he wants to get what he needs. he has to let you take care of him. and god, you do it best.

“o-okay.. can you just hold my hand?”

it’s a simple request but it’s something that makes your chest ache. his hand raises from where it lays and opens up in anticipation. its a silent plea.

your fingers slide between his and interlock.

“i’m here.”

he lets out a breath he’s been holding in. slow, shaky, relieved.

“you’re here.”

[jesuistrestriste]

request: please I’m begging you write more parts to the Patrick Zweig Coach fucking his much younger client I’m dying that was too good

tennis coach!Patrick x fem reader, part 1

cw: nsfw (18+), d/s overtones tbh, dom!patrick, dirty talk, minimal use of daddy kink (reader says it once), not proofread

You were sore for that next week of practice. Getting fucked by a tennis racket handle wasn’t on your bucket list but you’re not particularly mad at it either.

You thought the dynamic would change between you and your coach but it’s like he went right back to ignoring you.

It wasn’t until Wednesday’s practice when you were preparing for a tournament you had this weekend.

You were genuinely out of it. You were going to be versing Anna Mueller and she’s currently ranked number 4 for women’s juniors. Sometimes you got in your head about things even if you knew how good you were.

During your serve drills Patrick could tell you were off. By the time you got to scrimmaging you weren’t giving it your all to beat him like you usually would.

On your next rally Patrick catches the ball instead of returning your serve. He walks to middle meeting you at the net, “You’re not fucking with me right? What’s going on?”

You sigh, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the cardigan tied around your shoulders, “No I’m not I just- I keep thinking about the tournament this weekend.”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Anna Mueller is all show, no real skill. And she’s a racist bitch, you’ll beat her into the ground without even trying.”

You let out a chuckle at that statement, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or light a fire under my ass,” I mean who doesn’t want to beat their opponents, especially the racist ones.

He smirks, “Why can’t it be both?,” He takes a step closer, the net still in between you two. You instinctively take a step closer just to be in his personal space. He bites his lip quickly, you can tell he’s thinking. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “And I said if you were good this weekend, I’d give you what you want.”

The smell of cigarettes fills your senses. A smell you usually hate but for some reason it just works for him. You let your eyes slip close momentarily to imagine what your first time with Patrick would be like because jesus fuck—

“We don’t have all day L/N, let’s go,” He calls out from his place on the other side of the court. Shit, how long were you standing there with your eyes closed?

You half jog back to your side of the court and take your cardigan off. When did it get so hot?

You turn quickly to look at him again, only to see him quickly push his sunglasses back down and clear his throat. Oh he was totally staring.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Ready Zweig?” You call out right before you serve an ace.

…

The tournament had just finished and you absolutely crushed Anna Mueller. You tanked in the first set but came back and won the last two by a good margin. You were so zoned in you didn’t even notice when Patrick had moved his tennis bag to his lap to cover up his problem.

You were so hyped at the end, you felt like it was the best tennis you’ve ever played. Not to mention the points you’d win from this to boost your own rank.

You looked around the stands for Patrick but he was nowhere to be found. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion but you’re sure you’ll see him later. Your parents had covered two hotel rooms for you both for the weekend.

You made your way back to the hotel so you could take a shower and change. Once you finished there was a knock on your door.

You opened it to find Patrick leaning against the door frame with a CVS bag in his hand. You took a second to take him in. Curls damp, like he just took a shower. You were able to actually look in his eyes for longer than a millisecond (since he’s always wearing sunglasses) and they were beautiful. A mashup of light hazel and green. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans that stretched over his long legs. And he was only wearing socks? No shoes.

“You gonna let me in or you wanna keep checking me out?” He smirks. You move to the side so he can walk inside.

You close the door as he takes a seat on the bed after placing the CVS bag on the night stand.

“Where’d you go? After my match.” You ask sitting next to him so your thighs are touching.

He shifts so he can face you, “Had to get some stuff, take a shower,” He gestures to the bag on the nightstand.

“You didn’t even see if I won or not, and what did you just have to get from CVS?” You ask. To be honest you’re not even really paying attention, just enjoying being this close in his personal space. Maintaining eye contact so you can fully drink in this dreamlike experience.

“Just condoms,” He’s says so causally like it’s toothpaste or something.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, “Don’t they sell that at the little hotel store downstairs?”

He smirks again, “And how would you know that?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, “I just wanted to check I guess. And you never answered my questions.”

He shrugs, “I already knew you were gonna win and downstairs they didn’t have magnum.” He says so casually AGAIN. Fuck.

He sees the “oh fuck” realization on your face so he has to ask, “You’re not a virgin right?”

You shake your head no. Quite the opposite actually but he just made you nervous for some reason.

He moves his hand to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb resting just above your ear, “What happened to the confident little brat who made me fuck her with a racket huh?”

Fuck. You move forward to crash your lips together, you’ve been waiting for this for too long to get nervous now.

He kisses you back and it’s almost bruising. Tongue, lips, and exchanging spit. It’s filthy. He pulls you back before he says, “On your knees.”

You followed that command quicker than the speed of your serves. He chuckles softly and you look up at him, hoping this time you’d get what you want and not a tennis racket.

He stands up so your face to face with his clothed bulge. You can feel your mouth start to water subconsciously. He unzips his jeans, pulling them down until they fall at his ankles. Now he was just stood in front of you in his boxer briefs and a much more prominent bulge.

You felt some need to prove to yourself so you start to mouth at his bulge through his underwear.

“Fuck, woah slow down. Did I say you could do that?” He groans while grabbing your hair and pulling you off.

“No but I just—“

“I thought you said you were gonna be good? You were good this whole week, don't mess it up now.”

“Okay I’m sorr—“

“First rule is you only speak if I say so okay? Or if I ask you a question. Got it?”

You nod before you realize he just asked you a question. You rush out, “Yes yep got it.”

He smiles, “You’ve always been a pretty quick learner.” He moves his hand from your hair back to his own underwear. He pulls them down slowly, letting his hard length spring free and fuck. You knew he was big but this was a lot.

He continues, “Now, I’m gonna let you suck my cock but don’t try to be too ambitious. If I want you to take more, you’ll know. And if you need me to stop for any reason just pinch me.”

You nod staying in your place on your knees. He grips the base of his cock, rubbing his tip along your lips. You want so badly to open your mouth, lick the tip with your tongue. But you can’t, not yet.

“You can open.”

Before he even finishes that statement your mouth is open and you’re sucking on the tip. Little kitten licks in between. You refrain from trying to swallow him down because you haven’t been instructed to yet.

He moves his hand back to your hair, pushing you further down. You choke a little, but try to keep calm so your gag reflex doesn’t act up.

He lets out a low groan as he keeps pushing in, “Fuck,” and then he pulls out almost all the way before he presses back in.

This time you try to suck to the best of ur ability. Making a mess, spit building up in your mouth, covering his cock, drooling out of the sides of your mouth. You still haven’t taken it all but you bob your head up and down, covering the expanse of his cock that he’s allowed you to take.

The wet sounds of you choking, gasping, and breathing hard around his dick filling the room. Soon he pulls all the way out letting out an exasperated, “Fuck babe, gotta prep you now. Get up.”

You stand up, knees feeling sore from the roughness of the hotel carpet.

“Take off your clothes and lay down on your back.” He says, stroking his cock aimlessly, waiting for you to lay down.

This is the fastest you’ve ever taken your clothes off, record speed. You get into position, laying down on your back. A few pillows behind you so your back is elevated. He lays down on his stomach between your legs, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed.

He lets his finger run down the middle of your folds, gently grazing your clit, before he pushes into your hole.

“You’re so wet already, maybe I didn’t have to prep you,” He says before adding a second finger, pumping in and out of your slick hole.

He picks up the pace and you are a moaning mess. Moaning, whining, and whimpering just from his fingers as he keeps pressing against the right spot.

“Does that feel good baby?” He asks before he inserts a third, curling his fingers inside you now.

You nod before you remember that you have to answer verbally, “Yes please more, feels so good.”

He speeds up his pace, assaulting the soft spongy spot inside of you until you feel something build up in your stomach. He keeps eye contact with you, biting his lip as he watches the pleasure take over your face.

“Ah, ah, ah—Patrick wait I- fuck” You say in a high pitched whine as a rush of liquid gushes out of you, squirting all over his fingers.

Patrick pulls his fingers out, “Knew you had it in you,” he smirks moving up on the bed to capture your lips in another kiss.

This kiss is slow, like he’s taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. He bites your lip as he pulls away from the kiss, “Good?”

You nod definitely a little out of it. “Yeah,” you reply, your volume barely above a whisper.

“Still wanna keep going?” He asks, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

You nod, biting your lip as you smile, “Duh. Didn’t get what I want yet.”

He scoffs playfully, “I could argue that you did.” He grabs the CVS bag and opens the box of condoms, taking one out. “Would you like to do the honors?”

You nod again, sitting up on your knees and opening the wrapper. He strokes himself a few times to get himself back to full hardness before you roll on the condom.

He moves you to lay down on the other (dry) side of the bed and lines up with your entrance. He drags his tip along the center of your folds, teasing your hole, “Sure this is what you really want?”

You let out a huff, “Yes Patrick, how many times do I have to tell—shit“ Your cut off as he pushes inside of you.

He looks up at you as he bottoms out, “You still good?” He grunts out.

“Stop treating me like a baby, I can take it,” You gasp out. It really is a lot. You feel ridiculously full. Almost comparable to the tennis racket. “You literally fucked me with tennis racket.”

“Ungrateful as always,” He shakes his head before he pulls out. You whine at the loss before he flips you over so your face down ass up.

“You were good all week, now you wanna be an ungrateful slut,” he tsks before slamming into you without warning.

“Oh fuck,” You basically scream out at the abrupt intrusion. He grabs both your wrists, holding them behind your back, before he really starts fucking into you.

He grunts out, “I was trying to be nice but you keep testing me, fuck you feel so good.”

He continues holding both your wrists in one of his massive hands while the other hand grabs your hair. Pulling you up so he can whisper in your ear, “So you’re gonna take whatever I decide to fucking give you, got it?”

You let out a whimper from how overwhelmed with pleasure you feel, “Yes fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He smirks, “Too late for that.” He lets go of your hair letting you fall back into position. He grips your hips and starts pounding into you. Each thrust more bruising than the last. Hard and fast. It feels like you’re gonna break.

You go from leaning into the thrusts pushing yourself back against him, to almost trying to pull away. Not because you weren’t enjoying it but because your g-spot was starting to get overstimulated, it was starting to feel too good.

“Fuck baby, can’t run away now. This is what you asked for right? What you’ve been drooling over for the past two years huh? Bet you used to touch yourself thinking about this right?”

You can’t even think straight enough to realize he’s asking a question. It’s not until he comes to a halt to say, “I asked you a fucking question.”

Now that he’s still inside you, your brain finally processes what he said. “Yes fuck, Patrick I— yes, I did, I did. Please don’t stop please,” You whine.

He picks up his pace again as tears start to fall down your face. He can hear your sniffling mixed in with your moans, “Aw baby, are you crying? Does it feel too good?”

You nod. Your face smushed against the pillow that’s catching your fallen tears. You let out a weak, “Yes daddy,” and you don’t even realize what you just said, too fucked out to register.

“Shit why would you— fuck,” His hips stutter, “Christ you’re so fucking—fuck baby you’re gonna be the end of me.”

“Please please, so close,” You whimper. You can feel yourself on the edge until-

“Cum for me baby, want you to finish all over my cock, this what you’ve wanted for two years right? Show me how much you needed it.”

And that’s all it takes. You feel that sudden rush again before you squirt all over Patrick’s dick. He curses under his breath pulling all the way out in between thrusts to fully see it. That image is enough to have him spilling inside the condom, his thrusts stilling.

He pulls out slowly, taking the condom off and throwing it away. He grabs a small hand towel from the bathroom and comes back to you on the bed half asleep.

“I figured you’d be too tired to shower but are you sure you wanna sleep here? My room’s right next to yours and my bed isn’t…yeah.”

You nod sleepily, “‘Mkay, there’s a connecting door I think?” You lazily gesture to the door in the middle of the wall.

“Oh that’s…convenient.” He pulls on his jeans haphazardly, taking out his key card. He leaves your room, leaving the deadbolt on to hold the door cracked open, and you hear some shuffling outside. You assume he’s unlocked the connecting door on his side.

He comes back to your room, unlocking the door on your side, revealing direct access to Patrick’s room. He picks you up with ease, probably from all those years of tennis, and sets you down in the middle of his bed.

It’s chillier in his room. Probably has the AC blasting, so you curl in on yourself trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again.

He makes his way over to the thermostat to turn up the temperature a little. Then he takes a beat before he decides to cover you with the comforter, tucking you in.

“Better?” He asks as he lays next to you, on top of the comforter because he’s still hot.

“Better,” You mumble back before you fall asleep

[jesuistrestriste]

Virgin!Art being raised up HEAVLY religiously, going to church every Sunday, saying his prayers like the good boy he is.

Then he meets Pervert!Reader and GOD (no pun intended) He’s so confused.. Yeah ofcourse he’s had a few wet dreams before.. But the image of Pervert!Reader bending down and her panties are on DISPLAY can’t leave his innocent mind!

I need him so bad.

oh trust me, i get it.

virgin!art getting flustered whenever he’s around you because you’re the hottest person he’s seen in his entire (sheltered) life. his head growing fuzzy and full of static when you introduce yourself in your short skirt and revealing top. him fumbling through his sentences as he tries to talk to you, unable to string a full one together because he’s too busy getting accidentally hard right in front of you..

here’s part of the virgin pastor’s son!art stuff that ive been doing for a bit over on my sideblog : linked

shameless plug but if you want to read more, go to the pastor’s son!art donaldson tag on my sideblog.. ive written quite a bit on him

[jesuistrestriste]

Nooo bc virgin/gooner art would SOO cum untouched from eating you out/getting you off —🪐

this is what i truly believe in my heart of hearts</3

like he is moaning while his tongue is inside you, his hands on your thighs and his brow all pinched up with pleasure. his eyes stuck gazing up at you so that he doesn’t miss any of your reactions to his mouth moving on your clit. feeling your wetness ooze over his lips and coat his tastebuds. his fingers digging into the softness of your legs as his hips jolt and his eyes roll back with a strangled cry as he cums just from the act of pleasing you:/ he’s too easy

[jesuistrestriste]

if i said my thoughts on the last ep of the white lotus i might get in trouble💔

does it involve this diva perchance

[jesuistrestriste]

i miss seeing the pegging art fics from you so often💔 are they ever coming back💔 he deserves to get dicked down

i miss writing about him getting pegged so yes, i will always be open to writing about that:3

him bouncing on it and leaning back on his palms as he rolls his hips, telling you how good you feel inside him. him curling over on top of you and squeezing your shoulders when he feels himself start to tighten around the silicone prodding all his most sensitive spots. golden ringlets sticking to his forehead and brow bone as he cries out and guides your wrist forward so that you grab his cock and help him. four pumps and then he’s jolting and whimpering brokenly as he spills over your chest and between your fingers. yea

if thinking about bending dilf!art over a countertop and then pulling down his sweatpants to slip the strap in from behind is a crime, i will see you in prison

[jesuistrestriste]

the eater!art fic u just published.... mhm yeah !! sorry if this is too freaky but oh my god him whining and shit, fucking reader on the floor.... with the literal DEAD guy nearby..... i must admit it tickled my fancy (sorry if this is worded weird i haven't slept in like three days)

!!! ♥️

okay so that part of the fic was unintentional—because i didn’t really want to make art + reader move somewhere else when they were already in the house (w/ said dead guy)—but then it became intentional. i thought about it a bit more and like.. yea! they’re already in this kind of primal state of being, having eaten for the first time in maybe months, so it makes sense that they just cant turn off any other instincts and start having this sloppy, animalistic, sweaty sex (even if it was just touching and rubbing). plus my eater!art desperately needed comfort in that exact moment and he sought it out the way he needed to with eater!reader, even if it made him feel weird because yes, again, their victim was nearby. idk