bambi, 20, she-her, 18+ blog, writes for: challengers (2024), dodge mason panic (2021), kurt kunkle spree (2020), batboys (bruce wayne, jason todd, dick grayson), (masterlist), inbox is open as always!
Hiii, life has been really good, very busy. i got a summer job so that takes up everything. sometimes i forget i even have this app lmao. thank you for asking.
I was reading your cult leader art stuff and I just want you to know you’ve opened my eyes to a whole new world (I would’ve been indoctrinated if he was in the real world)
note: tried to post this yesterday but it got flagged :/ anon i hope you’re out there and see this! thank your for the request!
3.1k
Art Donaldson’s face printed in black and white covered almost every bulletin board at your college. Always advertising the same thing.
Feeling lost and alone? Need a space to talk? Meet from circle time in Central Park at 4.
Your move to California had left you feeling lonely. Your family and what little friends you left behind were miles away, but to vent about that to a bunch of strangers in a park didn’t appeal to you.
Still the flayers continued to tempt your attention.
Art noticed you in an instant. It was a new college he was visiting that day, a college he felt The Divine had pulled him to and he could see why.
Art had a talent for picking out the vulnerability in others. Some were strong, easy for him to grab onto, others more guarded. In you it seemed to shine like a beacon calling to him. Art couldn’t resist walking over to you.
“Hello, I’m-”
“No thanks, not interested.” The response was automatic. You were used to these people approaching you, and anyone else they could find to shove their flayers in your face, that just the sight of white linen pants and brown shoes was enough to turn you off.
A big hand caught your shoulder in a light hold turning you around, smooth laughter filtering through your ears. “You didn’t even hear what I had to say.”
That face, that chiseled jaw, that prominent nose, it was something you’ve seen before.
“You're from the flayers.” You blurted, earning another sweet laugh from the man.
“I am,” He held out his hand. “Art Donaldson.”
Your light grip was nearly crushed under the weight of Art’s firm shake. “Do you see them a lot?”
“Sometimes, around campus, they’re kind of hard to ignore.” You never considered yourself particularly funny but this was now the third time Art had laughed at something you said.
“You should join us sometime. In the park.”
Your lips curled inward. “I don’t know…that’s not really my thing.”
Art hummed a sad tone, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for causing the disappointed look that went across his face.
“I understand. It can be pretty daunting exposing your raw feelings to a bunch of strangers.” Letting a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you felt relief wash over that Art wasn’t upset, he understood.
“Though it can be nice to have friends around,” he smiled. Voices in the back called out to Art forcing your words to the back of your mind. Pulling a pencil from his pocket, “I hate to go so soon.” He wrote on the back of the flayer in his hand. “My number. Use it. Don’t use it. It’s up to you. Although I'd really like it if you'd use it.” The tips of Art’s fingers brushed yours when he shoved the paper into your hand.
You watched him go, clutching the paper in your hand. Your gaze jumped from the paper to Art.
In the cluster of hippies dressed all the same Art stood out. There seemed to be a glow around him as he interacted with those in his group. They hung on his every word, and you didn’t realize you were still watching him until Art and his group disappeared around the corner.
You continue your day with Art’s presence in the back of your mind and the paper with his number on it burning a hole into your bag.
You didn’t call, not right away, you let yourself get swept up in your school work, but after a phone call with your family from back home a strong sense of loneliness settled in your heart, and you found yourself reaching for the paper with the number written in now dried ink.
“Hello?”
You held your breath when Art’s voice came through the phone into your ears.
“Hi,” You spoke low, “It’s me from that day on campus. You gave me your number and said to call.”
There was a beat and then , “Oh, right, of course how could I forget you. I was hoping for your call.”
“Sorry it took so long I was busy, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to meet?”
Art let the suspense build, he let your breathing get a little faster, before enthusiastically agreeing. “I would love to. There’s a cafe near your school. We could meet there tomorrow at three.”
“Yes,ok, I’ll see you then.” It was hard to hide the excitement in your voice.
You both hung up with a smile for differing reasons. You, because since moving to LA Art has been the first person you felt a pull to get to know. You’d only met once, but you couldn’t get him out of your mind.
Art, because of how easy you were. It was rare he invested personal time into new possible recruits, but you were a special case.
-
The cafe was small, something new that opened up to attract the college students that went to school nearby. Art was already seated at one of the outside tables when you arrived.
“I ordered for you. I hope that’s ok.”
It was a simple black coffee that you added three sugars to.
“Thank’s for coming, I know you’re probably busy.”
“Never, never too busy for you.”
You took a sip of your coffee to distract yourself from the butterflies that awoke in your stomach.
Surveying your ridge body language, and the way you fiddled with the handle of your mug, Art leaned forward, speaking softly.
“You know, I’m very glad you called,” he placed a warm hand over your fidgeting hand, “Ever since I saw you I could not stop thinking about you. Like it was the Divine's will for us to meet.”
“Divine’s will? Like God?” Your brows knitted and Art laughed—he seemed to do that a lot—shaking his head.
“No, no, not God,” He held both your hands in his. You’ve never been good at holding eye contact, but for Art it seemed as natural as breathing and you found yourself lost in the soft blue as he preached to you.
“The Divine is bigger than God. It’s human nature in its rawest form. It’s freedom. Only the strong and chosen can reach it.”
Silence hung between the two of you, and Art knew he gave too much too soon. The small hometown religion you thought was buried is still prevalent within you, pulling you away from his blasphemous words.
“And it shines within you. So bright.” Art’s quick to add, gaining your attention back. “I can help let it free if you’d have me.”
Art's words unsettled you at first, but then he made you believe you were something more, that something in you was destined for more. You were one of the chosen ones.
You’ve never been the religious type and Art liked to remind you this wasn’t religious, it was spiritual. The more time you spent with him the less you did at school.
“Why do you even go?” Art had asked you.
“I wanna be a teacher like my mother.” You responded and Art laughed.
“When are you going to stop being what others want you to be?”
You ended up dropping out.
The more consumed with Art your life became the more disconnected you were from old friends and family. The family members you used to call every week now rarely heard from you, if ever. You didn’t need them, Art said, the only family that truly matters was the one formed through The Divine. Besides you were always a bit of a black sheep, or so Art said so much that it became a thought you thought you formed yourself. Art seemed to know better than yourself, filling in the gaps in your head he deemed tainted by society.
“I would like to invite you to my home for the week.” Art sprung on you one day three months into meeting you. You two were out in the park walking along the river side. You’ve given up so much at Art’s will, and he was ready to start integrating you.
“I would love to.”
-
Art’s home sat far up in the hills of California, a huge golden gate hiding a large mansion and acres and acres of land behind it. On your ride up the long driveway you could see people in the distance remembering Art mentions he lived with others.
“It felt selfish to have such a large place and not share it with anyone.” He said when you first stepped into the home, watching as your eyes widened as you took in all the people. “There’s about twenty of us.”
You were given a tour of every inch of the house before Art dropped you off at the room you’d be staying in. Two other girls were there, but you didn’t feel uncomfortable or anxious you felt….at home.
Dinner was loud and lively, Art giving a welcome speech to acknowledge your presence. Breads, meats, and salads were passed around before everyone retired for the night.
The week passed in blur. All the clothes you packed never seemed to make it to your room, so you borrowed the flowy white dresses of your roommates.
Today marked your last day of stay here, and Art decided to take you on a walk around the property.
“Can’t believe the week is already over. It went by so fast.” There was a sad undertone to his words that was not lost on you.
“I know, I wish I could stay longer.” It was said absentmindedly, but Art perked up at your statement. No one could deny how well you fit here, how easily you took chores and group activities. Art always knew you were meant to be here and now you wanted to stay.
“I wish that as well.” He smiled.
The walk continued with light conversation, your bushing together every so often, until you made it towards the garden and steps slowed.
The garden itself was beautiful, huge and well divided, everything had its place. It was just people in it that caused you to freeze. Bare bodies of many shades and sizes worked in tandem and your jaw couldn’t help but drop open at the sight of unbashful nudity.
“Why, uh, why are they naked?”
Art took hold of your hand pulling you closer to the garden before speaking. “Plants are one of Divine’s sacred gifts. They are always in their most natural state that when working with them it only makes sense we give them the same courtesy, hm? Standing exposed under Divine’s day eye.” He gestured towards the sun. “To work in the garden is a very high privilege. To sink your bare feet in Divine’s skin.”
Like most things Art said you nodded along to it. Art was so smart and a little older than you. He knew things, and taught you so much that you questioned very little of what he said.
“You know,” Art turned your attention to be completely on him. “Before you go tomorrow I would like to show you something tonight, something special.” He said, and you found yourself with a nervous pit in your stomach later that night.
The house was dead quiet as you and Art walked through its halls, a door waiting for you at the end.
“We here are a family bound together by love, and sometimes that love is so overflowing it manifests into something…beautiful.”
Bodies, naked bodies moving together in what felt like slow-mo is what sat behind the door. It was pornographic in a way that had you wanted more instead of frowning away. Your eyes danced around the room, men and women, women and women, men and men. Touching, kissing, fucking. You jumped when Art put his hands on your waist pressing himself against your back.
“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” He asked and you nodded. “You could be a part of this if you stayed with us. With me.”
You turned in his grip. “I want that.” You heard yourself whisper watching a smile stretch over Art’s face. His hands slid from your waist to your hands, pulling you back down the hall turning a few corners until you were in front of another bedroom door. Art’s bedroom. The smell of incense and him were strong.
“Call me selfish, but I wish to have you first alone.” He backed you towards his king sized bed until the back of your thighs hit the bed. “You have no idea how long I've wanted you.”
“How?” You sighed, Art’s lips hitting your neck slowly but not teasing.
“Since that day on campus,” he said, words muffled on your skin. “Knew I had to have you, The Divine would have it no other way.” He raised his head and lifted your chin to look him in the eye. “We were made for each other.” Art sealed his statement with a kiss. Your mouth opened for his tongue to slide in. The soft sound you made gets swallowed by Art, and he presses against you desperate to hear it again.
Art moved with experience you didn’t have—your first attempt at sex having been your last—his hands sliding under your brown shirt, cold palms causing you to gasp and arch into his touch. While one hand ascends towards your breast the other descends. Moving down, down, down until his palm covered your clothed pussy. Pressing.
“Art!” Your breath catches in your throat. Your hand around his wrist does little to stop his fingers rubbing you through your layers of pants and underwear. You call out his name again—softer. Legs spreading as Art fingers dip into your waistband meeting the mess in your panties.
“You’re so wet, I could just,” his middle finger circled your clit before sinking into your wet heat. Your head fell back with a moan, as his finger pumped slowly.
“So tight around my finger, can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” He snuck in a second finger, sliding in and out and curling up. The heat of pleasure in your belly distracts you from the stretch, leaving you only to focus on Art's lips on your neck and his fingers reaching places you’ve only dreamt of.
“Gonna come.” You muttered, rolling your hips to meet his thrust. The palm of Art’s hand brushing against your clit. You chased after your release panting profanities as your walls grew slicker—tighter and you could feel it ready to rush through your body until Art drew his hand away.
“Why!” Your eyes shot open with a whine. “Why’d you stop?”
Art smiled at the pout on your face, pulling away just enough to start removing your clothes until you were bare in front of him, nipples pebbling. “Want to see you fully.” Art’s eyes racked up and down your body taking in the soft curves and marks. The urge to cover yourself up was strong, but you decided against it.
“Can I…see you?”
Art smiled, “Of course.” He stripped slowly, shirt coming off revealing a huge branding mark on his chest. Two circles inside a sun scarred into the skin over his heart. It was beautiful. Soon his pants dropped and he was as naked as you, cock heavy between his legs.
You etched back as Art moved closer, climbing onto the bed until he was situated over you.
“We will become one,” with a hand on the back of your knee Art nudged your legs up and apart, bulbous tip teasing at your dripping entrance. “After tonight you’ll be a true member of this family, a true child of The Divine.” He pushed in, feeding every inch of his cock into your tight wet hole. You fisted the sheets in your hands, eyes closing, mouth opening in a silent moan, lungs tightening.
“Art,” He bottomed out—pausing—letting your walls stretch and expand around his length.“Too big.” You gasped.
“It’s not, look how well you're taking me. Pretty pussy was made for this.” He reassured you, pulling out. “You were made for this.” He thrust forward, and stars clouded your vision. Moans filter out of you with every thrust.
Art was everywhere, you could feel him everywhere, his breath hitting your ear as he panted low groans, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, his hips meeting yours with every mean, deep thrust forward.
“Fuck—so good, perfect fucking pussy sucking me up.” One of Art’s hands left your thigh finding your neck in firm grip. “Look at me while I fuck you. You love it don’t you?” He knew the answer but he wanted you to say it with your own voice.
“L-Love it.” Your words tangled up in whimpery moans, eyes locking with his. “Love it so much—fuck!—“ Your back arched when Art’s cock head hit that sensitive spot inside you. Nails latching onto the man’s biceps.
He fucked you hard and fast, reducing you to nothing more than obnoxiously loud cries and babbles of his name. You could feel that wave raising again sitting at the edge waiting.
“Oh shit, Art! Close, m’close. Wanna come, please.” You held eye contact with him, tears gathered in your waterline.
“Wanna come?” Art stopped his movements with noisy protest from you to sit back on his heel pulling your ass off the bed to rest on his thighs, hands secure around your waist. “Let’s come together. You and me.”
You barely had time to catch your breath before Art was fucking back into you, his pace relentless. You shook from the force of his thrust, fingers holding tightly onto the sheets below you. As you edged closer your moans got louder mixing with Art’s making music in the air.
It was Art taking your hand and placing over his scarred heart, marks bumpy under your palm, and the longing look in his eyes when he asked you, “Will you let me put my mark on you?” that pushed your wave over the edge.
Your body tensed and your eyes squeezed shut with crying ‘yes’ as your orgasm rang through you. Art dragged it out by placing slow circles on your clit, soon reaching his own peak with a low cry. White hot cum filling your worn out cunt.
It was obscene the sight that came after he slipped his softened cock free. Art watches with awe the mixing of both your releases oozing out of you, before crawling to lie next to you wrapping his arms around you.
“You will stay here. You’ll never need anyone else. Just me.” His words lured you to sleep, memories of friends and family now forgotten and replaced with Art.
I don’t know if your taking request but please I need more cult leader Art like I need him to manipulate me and play me like a fiddle also can we expand on the whole gardening situation
DIVINE INTERVENTION
pairing: cult leader!art dondalson x fem!reader
warnings: smut…
note: finally finished this!! really hope you enjoyed! thank you for requesting and forcing my writing juices to work.
3.1k
Art Donaldson’s face printed in black and white covered almost every bulletin board at your college. Always advertising the same thing.
Feeling lost and alone? Need a space to talk? Meet from circle time in Central Park at 4.
Your move to California had left you feeling lonely. Your family and what little friends you left behind were miles away, but to vent about that to a bunch of strangers in a park didn’t appeal to you.
Still the flayers continued to tempt your attention.
Art noticed you in an instant. It was a new college he was visiting that day, a college he felt The Divine had pulled him to and he could see why.
He had a talent for picking out the vulnerability in others. Some were strong, easy for him to grab onto, others more guarded. In you it seemed to shine like a beacon calling to him. Art couldn’t resist walking over to you.
“Hello, I’m-”
“No thanks, not interested.” The response was automatic. You were used to these people approaching you, and anyone else they could find to shove their flayers in your face, that just the sight of white linen pants and brown shoes was enough to turn you off.
A big hand caught your shoulder in a light hold turning you around, smooth laughter filtering through your ears. “You didn’t even hear what I had to say.”
That face, that chiseled jaw, that prominent nose, it was something you’ve seen before.
“You're from the flayers.” You blurted, earning another sweet laugh from the man.
“I am,” He held out his hand. “Art Donaldson.”
Your light grip was nearly crushed under the weight of Art’s firm shake. “Do you see them a lot?”
“Sometimes, around campus, they’re kind of hard to ignore.” You never considered yourself particularly funny but this was now the third time Art had laughed at something you said.
“You should join us sometime. In the park.”
Your lips curled inward. “I don’t know…that’s not really my thing.”
Art hummed a sad tone, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for causing the disappointed look that went across his face.
“I understand. It can be pretty daunting exposing your raw feelings to a bunch of strangers.” Letting a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you felt relief wash over that Art wasn’t upset, he understood.
“Though it can be nice to have friends around,” he smiled. Voices in the back called out to Art forcing your words to the back of your mind. Pulling a pencil from his pocket, “I hate to go so soon.” He wrote on the back of the flayer in his hand. “My number. Use it. Don’t use it. It’s up to you. Although I'd really like it if you'd use it.” The tips of Art’s fingers brushed yours when he shoved the paper into your hand.
You watched him go, clutching the paper in your hand. Your gaze jumped from the paper to Art.
In the cluster of hippies dressed all the same Art stood out. There seemed to be a glow around him as he interacted with those in his group. They hung on his every word, and you didn’t realize you were still watching him until Art and his group disappeared around the corner.
You continue your day with Art’s presence in the back of your mind and the paper with his number on it burning a hole into your bag.
You didn’t call, not right away, you let yourself get swept up in your school work, but after a phone call with your family from back home a strong sense of loneliness settled in your heart, and you found yourself reaching for the paper with the number written in now dried ink.
“Hello?”
You held your breath when Art’s voice came through the phone into your ears.
“Hi,” You spoke low, “It’s me from that day on campus. You gave me your number and said to call.”
There was a beat and then , “Oh, right, of course how could I forget you. I was hoping for your call.”
“Sorry it took so long I was busy, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to meet?”
Art let the suspense build, he let your breathing get a little faster, before enthusiastically agreeing. “I would love to. There’s a cafe near your school. We could meet there tomorrow at three.”
“Yes, ok, I’ll see you then.” Excitement obvious in your voice.
You both hung up with a smile for differing reasons. You, because since moving to LA Art has been the first person you felt a pull to get to know. You’d only met once, but you couldn’t get him out of your mind.
Art, because of how easy you were. It was rare he invested personal time into new possible recruits, but you were a special case.
-
The cafe was small, something new that opened up to attract the college students that went to school nearby. Art was already seated at one of the outside tables when you arrived.
“I ordered for you. I hope that’s ok.”
It was a simple black coffee that you added three sugars to.
“Thank’s for coming, I know you’re probably busy.”
“Never, never too busy for you.”
You took a sip of your coffee to distract yourself from the butterflies that awoke in your stomach.
Surveying your ridge body language, and the way you fiddled with the handle of your mug, Art leaned forward, speaking softly.
“You know, I’m very glad you called,” he placed a warm hand over your fidgeting hand, “Ever since I saw you I could not stop thinking about you. Like it was the Divine's will for us to meet.”
“Divine’s will? Like God?” Your brows knitted and Art laughed—he seemed to do that a lot—shaking his head.
“No, no, not God,” He held both your hands in his. You’ve never been good at holding eye contact, but for Art it seemed as natural as breathing and you found yourself lost in the soft blue as he preached to you.
“The Divine is bigger than God. It’s human nature in its rawest form. It’s freedom. Only the strong and chosen can reach it.”
Silence hung between the two of you, and Art knew he gave too much too soon. The small hometown religion you thought was buried is still prevalent within you, pulling you away from his blasphemous words.
“And it shines within you. So bright.” Art’s quick to add, gaining your attention back. “I can help let it free if you’d have me.”
Art's words unsettled you at first, but then he made you believe you were something more, that something in you was destined for more. You were one of the chosen ones. You’ve never been the religious type and Art liked to remind you this wasn’t religious, it was spiritual. The more time you spent with him the less you did at school.
“Why do you even go?” Art had asked you.
“I wanna be a teacher like my mother.” You responded and Art laughed.
“When are you going to stop being what others want you to be?”
You ended up dropping out.
The more consumed with Art your life became the more disconnected you were from old friends and family. The family members you used to call every week now rarely heard from you, if ever. You didn’t need them, Art said, the only family that truly matters was the one formed through The Divine. Besides you were always a bit of a black sheep, or so Art said so much that it became a thought you thought you formed yourself. Art seemed to know better than yourself, filling in the gaps in your head he deemed tainted by society.
“I would like to invite you to my home for the week.” Art sprung on you one day three months into meeting you. You two were out in the park walking along the river side. You’ve given up so much at Art’s will, and he was ready to start integrating you.
“I would love to.”
-
Art’s home sat far up in the hills of California, a huge golden gate hiding a large mansion and acres and acres of land behind it. On your ride up the long driveway you could see people in the distance remembering Art mentions he lived with others.
“It felt selfish to have such a large place and not share it with anyone.” He said when you first stepped into the home, watching as your eyes widened as you took in all the people. “There’s about twenty of us.”
You were given a tour of every inch of the house before Art dropped you off at the room you’d be staying in. Two other girls were there, but you didn’t feel uncomfortable or anxious you felt….at home.
Dinner was loud and lively, Art giving a welcome speech to acknowledge your presence. Breads, meats, and salads were passed around before everyone retired for the night.
The week passed in blur. All the clothes you packed never seemed to make it to your room, so you borrowed the flowy white dresses of your roommates.
Today marked your last day of stay here, and Art decided to take you on a walk around the property.
“Can’t believe the week is already over. It went by so fast.” There was a sad undertone to his words that was not lost on you.
“I know, I wish I could stay longer.” It was said absentmindedly, but Art perked up at your statement. No one could deny how well you fit here, how easily you took chores and group activities. Art always knew you were meant to be here and now you wanted to stay.
“I wish that as well.” He smiled.
The walk continued with light conversation, your bushing together every so often, until you made it towards the garden and steps slowed.
The garden itself was beautiful, huge and well divided, everything had its place. It was just people in it that caused you to freeze. Bare bodies of many shades and sizes worked in tandem and your jaw couldn’t help but drop open at the sight of unbashful nudity.
“Why, uh, why are they naked?”
Art took hold of your hand pulling you closer to the garden before speaking. “Plants are one of Divine’s sacred gifts. They are always in their most natural state that when working with them it only makes sense we give them the same courtesy, hm? Standing exposed under Divine’s day eye.” He gestured towards the sun. “To work in the garden is a very high privilege. To sink your bare feet in Divine’s skin.”
Like most things Art said you nodded along to it. Art was so smart and a little older than you. He knew things, and taught you so much that you questioned very little of what he said.
“You know,” Art turned your attention to be completely on him. “Before you go tomorrow I would like to show you something tonight, something special.” He said, and you found yourself with a nervous pit in your stomach later that night.
The house was dead quiet as you and Art walked through its halls, a door waiting for you at the end.
“We here are a family bound together by love, and sometimes that love is so overflowing it manifests into something…beautiful.”
Bodies, naked bodies moving together in what felt like slow-mo is what sat behind the door. It was pornographic in a way that had you wanted more instead of frowning away. Your eyes danced around the room, men and women, women and women, men and men. Touching, kissing, fucking. You jumped when Art put his hands on your waist pressing himself against your back.
“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” He asked and you nodded. “You could be a part of this if you stayed with us. With me.”
You turned in his grip. “I want that.” You heard yourself whisper watching a smile stretch over Art’s face. His hands slid from your waist to your hands, pulling you back down the hall turning a few corners until you were in front of another bedroom door. Art’s bedroom. The smell of incense and him were strong.
“Call me selfish, but I wish to have you first alone.” He backed you towards his king sized bed until the back of your thighs hit the bed. “You have no idea how long I've wanted you.”
“How?” You sighed, Art’s lips hitting your neck slowly but not teasing.
“Since that day on campus,” he said, words muffled on your skin. “Knew I had to have you, The Divine would have it no other way.” He raised his head and lifted your chin to look him in the eye. “We were made for each other.” Art sealed his statement with a kiss. Your mouth opened for his tongue to slide in. The soft sound you made gets swallowed by Art, and he presses against you desperate to hear it again.
Art moved with experience you didn’t have—your first attempt at sex having been your last—his hands sliding under your brown shirt, cold palms causing you to gasp and arch into his touch. While one hand ascends towards your breast the other descends. Moving down, down, down until his palm covered your clothed pussy. Pressing.
“Art!” Your breath catches in your throat. Your hand around his wrist does little to stop his fingers rubbing you through your layers of pants and underwear. You call out his name again—softer. Legs spreading as Art fingers dip into your waistband meeting the mess in your panties.
“You’re so wet, I could just,” his middle finger circled your clit before sinking into your wet heat. Your head fell back with a moan, as his finger pumped slowly.
“So tight around my finger, can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” He snuck in a second finger, sliding in and out and curling up. The heat of pleasure in your belly distracts you from the stretch, leaving you only to focus on Art's lips on your neck and his fingers reaching places you’ve only dreamt of.
“Gonna come.” You muttered, rolling your hips to meet his thrust. The palm of Art’s hand brushing against your clit. You chased after your release panting profanities as your walls grew slicker—tighter and you could feel it ready to rush through your body until Art drew his hand away.
“Why!” Your eyes shot open with a whine. “Why’d you stop?”
Art smiled at the pout on your face, pulling away just enough to start removing your clothes until you were bare in front of him, nipples pebbling. “Wanted to see you.” Art’s eyes racked up and down your body taking in the soft curves and marks. The urge to cover yourself up was strong, but you decided against it.
“Can I…see you?”
Art smiled, “Of course.” He stripped slowly, shirt coming off revealing a huge branding mark on his chest. Two circles inside a sun scarred into the skin over his heart. It was beautiful. Soon his pants dropped and he was as naked as you, cock heavy between his legs.
You etched back as Art moved closer, climbing onto the bed until he was situated over you.
“We will become one,” with a hand on the back of your knee Art nudged your legs up and apart, bulbous tip teasing at your dripping entrance. “After tonight you’ll be a true member of this family, a true child of The Divine.” He pushed in, feeding every inch of his cock into your tight wet hole. You fisted the sheets in your hands, eyes closing, mouth opening in a silent moan, lungs tightening.
“Art,” he bottomed out—pausing—letting your walls stretch and expand around his length. “Too big.” You gasped.
“It’s not, look how well you're taking me. Pretty pussy was made for this.” He reassured you, pulling out. “You were made for this.” He thrust forward, and stars clouded your vision. Moans filter out of you with every thrust.
Art was everywhere, you could feel him everywhere, his breath hitting your ear as he panted low groans, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs forcing them apart, his hips meeting yours with every mean, deep thrust forward.
“Fuck—so good, perfect fucking pussy sucking me up.” One of Art’s hands left your thigh finding your neck in firm grip. “Look at me while I fuck you. You love it don’t you?” He knew the answer but he wanted you to say it with your own voice.
“L-Love it.” Your words tangled up in whimpery moans, eyes locking with his. “Love it so much—fuck!—“ Your back arched when Art’s cock head hit that sensitive spot inside you. Nails latching onto the man’s biceps.
He fucked you hard and fast, reducing you to nothing more than obnoxiously loud cries and babbles of his name. You could feel that wave raising again sitting at the edge waiting.
“Oh shit, Art, Art! Close, m’close. Wanna come, please.” You held eye contact with him, tears gathered in your waterline.
“Wanna come?” Art stopped his movements with noisy protest from you to sit back on his heel pulling your ass off the bed to rest on his thighs, hands secure around your waist. “Let us come together. You and me.”
You barely had time to catch your breath before Art was fucking back into you, his pace relentless. You shook from the force of his thrust, fingers nails digging deeper into his skin. As you edged closer your moans got louder mixing with Art’s making music in the air.
It was Art taking your hand and placing it over his scarred heart, marks bumpy under your palm, and the longing look in his eyes when he asked you, “Will you let me put my mark on you?” that pushed your wave over the edge.
Your body tensed and your eyes squeezed shut with crying ‘yes’ as your orgasm rang through you. Art dragged it out by placing slow circles on your clit, soon reaching his own peak with a low cry. White hot cum filling your worn out cunt.
It was obscene the sight that came after he slipped his softened cock free. Art watches with awe the mixing of both your releases oozing out of you, before crawling to lie next to you wrapping his arms around you.
“You will stay here. You’ll never need anyone else. Just me.” His words lured you to sleep, memories of friends and family now forgotten and replaced with Art.
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