#Amen Choir
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Watch out ya'll, Sin's sketching Bloodborne comics again! 💀
#sin speaking#(i havent drawn anything bb related since MAY. holy shit dude. tbf i have been affronted by existing in general lmao)#(wow 2 whole years in the bb community and this is the first time ive drawn any of the main monstars. very subpar of me)#(im making approximately 0 promises on when this will get done bc i always end up being wrong LOL but still)#(i got a big brain boost of bb inspiration so you have to contend with my messy af sketches)#(anyone thats been here for a while is used to that though)#(why yes!! i AM infatuated with the choir rn. specifically my choir menace hradi who i love so much he has been written into ruzas story)#(as a minor role. but a role nonetheless. HEH.)#(it feels good...it feels so good to be with them again...)#(this isnt a big comic its like 4 pages lmao but still)#(i am currently raiding the chalice dungeons for uncanny weapons if yall need someone to tomb prospect with hmu)#(aloysha and hradi's profiles are menacingly strong and available for hire at the price of one corn chip)#(if nobody else got me i know my ballpoint pen unique brush got me AMEN)
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the only ""downside"" to drawing Glee fan art is that I'll spend literally ALL day Saturday drawing something, then when my friends ask me what I did over the weekend I'm like, "I... uhhh well I- nothing..."
#I sat in my room and did absolutely nothing#and definitely did NOT draw art of characters from a television show from 2009 about competitive show choir#They Just Wouldn't Get It#if nobody else got me i know The Glee Fandom On Tumblr got me. can i get an amen
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"I stoned the baptist in myself / with a handful of pills. I whispered my last / amen and choked on vomit."
Link to buy the literary journal it was published in
Reblog for a larger sample size!
#there is simply not a link for this one#every google search brings up choir music i'm sorry guys#sad too bc this quote is great#open polls#polls#poetry#poems#poetry polls#poets and writing#tumblr poetry#have you read this#the first baptist the last amen#david herghelegiu#suicide cw#homophobia cw
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i need your help God this is Mr Tigger sprint penny nextelll prays for your loving support and allowing me to have this life that I have. I am thankful and stressing for the holy Spirit to captivate my callers!!!!!!! God please remove at a quick time lapse the swindlers and perverts out the system. Amen amen
#yolal#amen#tiggerous sprint nextelll#amen tigger sprint penny nextell#leave the world behind#Twin little stars and the choir is overdrawn by the boy only what face?????!!???
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Every once in a while I think about the final movement of the Poulenc Stabat Mater and just have to sort of sit there and gibber, mentally, at the sheer levels of yearning expressed in it
#francis poulenc#i sang in this piece last year#with jeanine de bique as the soprano soloist#and while the choir conductor drama got pretty upsetting#i adore this piece#so many feelings#we did the dialogues des carmelites final scene in the same concert with de bique as blanche#the other nuns were women from the chorus#(not me of course i am not in the top 15 singers)#(and i was not in the choir when auditions were held)#when i talked to people about the concert the carmelites overshadowed everything#which is understandable but also#the stabat mater is so good#that final amen#it's the most anguished thing ever#we've been singing about paradise but we are NOT YET THERE#Youtube
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Take bow, amen, 2023
GIF: Bruce Morrow
#bruce morrow#brucemorrow#bruce-morrow#animated gif#digital art#animated gifs#nft digital art#the moment that#my art#myart#themomentthat#gifs on tumblr#animated gifs on tumblr#gifs#gif#chorus#choir#amen
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Man, God is good!
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my mom doesnt know who lovecraft is. no idea what cthulu is never heard the name. am i insane i thought this was just. widely known common knowledge. we have a book of lovecraft stories im genuinely baffled
#triggered by me telling my mom to sing red signal with her primary school choir#amen#lovecraft#cthulhu#saymbles
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tag drop
#⊹ · nsft * . sins to forgive#⊹ · visage * . sweeter than the devil & twice as pretty#⊹ · isms * . god loves you; not enough to save you#⊹ · music * . play the hymns#⊹ · memes * . sealed with a kiss#⊹ · ooc * . and the congregation said amen#⊹ · answered ask * . from lilith’s lips#⊹ · wishlist * . whispered prayers#⊹ · saved * . cobwebbed treasures#⊹ · self promo * . never a god#⊹ · open * . i’ve been having revelations#⊹ · promo * . preaching to the choir
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My mom, a practical learner: ->-> ⇗->->->⇑⇓⇑⇓⇓⇑
Me, a theoretical learner:
#don't mind the amens#I was helping her because her arrows didn't do shit for her#it was still hard for her to hit the right notes or remember if the next one was a higher one or not#lucky for her#she has me#it was for the church choir that's why
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Let the choir say Amen
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Amen!
I have decided that arguing politics on social media is an exercise in futility.
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Can I request baby billy maybe reader Is a Virgin and he has plenty of skills he will help teach his innocent girl ?
Hidden Sins
Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Fem!Reader
Warnings: smut (18+), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, corruption kink, slight cum play, innocent reader, takes place in a church (it used to be a sears, okay), description of a religious service, talk of religious beliefs/upbringing, manipulation, possessiveness, idolisation.
Word Count: 7.3K
A/N: I joined these two requests, I hope that's okay! I love writing for Baby Billy, he just oozes charm but has that slight edge of manipulation 🥵 Thank you for the kind words on A Fall From Grace, anon! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌
As the doors of the newest Gemstone Prayer Centre opened on Sunday morning, the congregation trickled in. There was a gentle murmur of voices as families, couples, and individuals made their way to their seats. The set lights created colourful patterns on the floor as they streamed through imitation stained-glass windows, giving a warm and inviting glow to the sanctuary, which was a recently renovated Sears in Locust Grove’s Eastland mall.
There was a comforting rhythm to the rituals performed as people settled into their seats. Some bowed their heads in silent prayer, while others leafed through their hymnals or exchanged hushed conversations with their neighbours. Children, dressed in their Sunday outfits, fidgeted beside their parents, their impatience to be let free into the mall barely contained. The musicians, positioned near the front, tuned their instruments and chatted quietly among themselves, their voices blending in harmonious laughter.
The keyboardist played a soft prelude, the gentle notes filling the space and creating an atmosphere of reverence and anticipation. Conversations gradually quieted as the music swelled, drawing the congregation’s attention towards the front of the church. The choir stood, their faces reflecting a mixture of concentration and serene joy as they prepared to lead the opening number, a soulful blend of rock and country.
At the pulpit, Baby Billy Freeman took his place, his persona commanding yet approachable. He adjusted the microphone, his warm hazel eyes scanning the room, acknowledging familiar faces with a nod and a smile. As the last notes of the prelude faded, a hush fell over the sanctuary. He cleared his throat, his melodic voice resonating with warmth and authority as he welcomed everyone to the service, setting the tone for the morning’s worship.
“Good morning, brothers and sisters,” he began, rich and melodious, filling the space with ease. “It is a blessing to see so many familiar faces, and I extend a heartfelt welcome to those who are visiting us for the first time. We gather here today, not just as individuals, but as a community of faith, bound by the love and grace of our Lord.”
Calls of “Amen” rang out through the room as he stepped away from the pulpit, moving to the front of the stage with a graceful confidence that commanded attention. He began weaving a story, his voice rising and falling with the rhythm of his words. You found yourself entranced, unable to take your eyes off his tall, lean frame. He oozed magnetic charm, from the way he adjusted the cufflinks on his impeccably tailored suit to the slick, groomed hair that crowned his head. This was a pastor who clearly appreciated the finer things in life, and it showed in every deliberate movement he made.
His story unfolded with the elegance of a master storyteller, each word chosen with care, each pause perfectly timed to draw the crowd deeper into his narrative. The light caught the fabric of his suit just right, highlighting its quality and fit, and you couldn’t help but admire the attention to detail in his appearance. It was evident that Baby Billy Freeman understood the power of presentation, using it to enhance the impact of his message, much like the Gemstone family did.
As he spoke, his eyes scanned the crowd, ensuring each person experienced a sense of direct connection as he addressed them. His hands moved gracefully, emphasizing points with a natural ease that came from years of practice and a deep understanding of his craft. The way he stood, the way he gestured, even the way he smiled—all of it contributed to the aura of a man who was not only confident in his message but also in his place at the front of the room.
When his eyes settled on you, it appeared time itself slowed. His gaze lingered, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he took you in, assessing you with a knowing look. The intensity of his eyes sent a jolt through you, igniting a heat that rocketed to your cheeks under his watchful scrutiny. Your fingers moved subconsciously to smooth the pleats of your dress over your lap, a nervous attempt to steady yourself against the flurry of emotions his intense stare provoked.
In that moment, it was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you. The sanctuary, its audience and ambient murmurs, faded into the background, leaving only the charged connection between you and Baby Billy. His eyes, so penetrating and vivid, held you captive, conveying a silent message that was both thrilling and unnerving.
His smirk deepened, a small but deliberate acknowledgment of the influence he had on you. You felt exposed, as though he could see right through the façade of composure you tried to maintain. The room felt warmer, the air thicker, every sense heightened by the charged interaction. Your heart raced, and your breaths came quicker, shallow and uneven, as you struggled to regain control.
The folds of your dress became a focus for your hands, fingers trembling as they smoothed and re-smoothed the fabric in a futile attempt to calm your nerves. Nothing could lessen the impact of his gaze. His sermon and presence made you feel singled out and significant, as if he intended them solely for you.
His eyes moved on, continuing to scan his flock, but the spell he had cast remained. You were left feeling flustered, your cheeks still flushed, and an unfamiliar yet exhilarating sense of longing settling in your chest. The rest of the room came back into focus, the collective presence of the congregation reasserting itself, but the lasting effect of his stare lingered. You knew that something had shifted within you, a spark ignited by the magnetic pull of Baby Billy Freeman’s attention, leaving you both eager and apprehensive about the next encounter.
The moment came sooner than you expected when Judy Gemstone grabbed your hand and marched you toward the backroom after the service, her heels clipping briskly on the tiled floor as you hurried to keep up. Suspense and lingering incense from the church filled the air, adding a heady sense of urgency to Judy’s determined stride.
You had been friends with Judy long enough to recognize the signs—her set jaw, the tenacious glint in her eyes, and the way she moved with single-minded purpose. Judy was on a mission, and right now, that mission was to secure the coveted position of the lead vocalist of her uncle’s church. Almost tangibly, her passion fuelled her determination to prove her brothers wrong and show her father she could uphold the Gemstone reputation.
Like the rest of the Gemstones, Judy’s determination was a force of nature. Her drive to impress her family was relentless, and it often swept you up in its wake. You had long accepted your role as her loyal sidekick, accompanying her on various ventures and ambitions. Today was no different. She dragged you into the backroom of the church, her arm linked tightly through yours. Memories of similar situations flooded your mind, each one of her ideas more hare-brained than the last.
The backroom, a repurposed Sears storage room, was a hive of activity, with band members chatting animatedly and church staff tidying up after the service. The noise and movement seemed to part like the Red Sea before Judy, her appearance commanding immediate attention. You stayed close, your heart fluttering at the prospect of finally meeting Baby Billy Freeman.
The service wasn’t the first occasion you had laid eyes on him, but it was the first time you had done so in person. Your mother admired Amy-Leigh Gemstone for a long time. They became close friends, which likely led to your introduction into Judy’s social circle. She had keenly tracked Amy-Leigh’s ascent to fame, along with her brother, accumulating their albums and any related merchandise available.
Your family home was practically a museum dedicated to the siblings. Vivid posters of Baby Billy decorated the walls, providing a stark contrast to the otherwise subdued décor. Shelves brimmed with collectibles ranging from signed photographs to rare figurines, each item echoing your mother’s deep appreciation for the famed clogging pair. Items adorned with Baby Billy’s image, from coffee mugs to decorative pillows, filled the space, turning it into a veritable shrine.
After your own mother passed away, Amy-Leigh became like a second mother to you, and her eventual passing left a profound void in your life. The Gemstones embraced you, providing a modest home within their compound and a job assisting with their ministry. The day Eli announced Baby Billy’s appointment as head pastor of their new centre, you could hardly believe it. Years of fawning over the man on the poster, and finally you were going to be within proximity of him.
Judy’s heels clicked with authority as she approached the corner where her uncle stood, surrounded by a small group of admirers. His charismatic aura was unmistakable, even in this more casual setting. He was in the midst of a conversation, his laughter rich and inviting, but it cut off smoothly as he noticed Judy’s determined approach.
“Uncle Baby Billy,” Judy called out, her voice clear over the din. “We need to talk.”
He turned towards her, his eyes momentarily flicking to you, a spark of recognition lighting up his features. His smile broadened, that familiar smirk playing at the edges of his lips. Your pulse quickened as his gaze held yours for a beat longer than seemed necessary before he turned his full attention to Judy.
“Judy, my favourite niece,” he greeted, his voice warm and welcoming, though his eyes still held a mischievous glint. “What brings you here?”
Judy didn’t waste a moment. She launched into her pitch with the fervour of someone who had rehearsed every word, every inflection. She spoke of her vocal talents, her dedication to the church, and her deep desire to serve in a greater capacity. Her words were passionate and persuasive, painting a vivid picture of her as the ideal candidate for the lead vocalist role. All true for the moment, but her attentions were often fleeting.
As Judy presented her case, you couldn’t help but notice how Baby Billy listened intently. Yet, every so often, his eyes would dart back to you, a silent, lingering glance that made your skin heat. You busied yourself by nodding along to your friend’s speech, trying to appear composed despite the tumult of emotions within you.
Judy concluded her pitch with a confident smile. “So, Baby Billy, what do you say? Give me the chance to prove myself.”
Baby Billy leaned back, his expression thoughtful and appraising as he considered her request. His eyes flicked between Judy and you, a smile spreading across his face. “Well, Judy, you certainly make a compelling case,” he said, his tone measured. Then, his gaze settled on you, and his smile took on a warmer, more personal touch. “What about you, darlin’? Do you think my niece has the pipes to pull it off?”
You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand under his attention, the depth of his gaze making your heart race. You noticed every detail—the slight arch of his brow, the glint of curiosity in his eyes, and the expectant look on Judy’s face. Your mind whirled, searching for the right words, knowing that this moment was crucial for your friend.
Clearing your throat, you straightened up, wrangling your fingers out of nervous habit. “Absolutely, Pastor Freeman,” you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Judy has an incredible voice and a passion for music, just like her mama.” A small, white lie. You would pray later.
Baby Billy smiled, his eyes never leaving yours as he seemed to weigh your words. The connection between you felt almost tangible, a silent communication that left you both exhilarated and unnerved. He nodded, his gaze shifting back to Judy.
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got quite the endorsement, Judy,” he said, his tone approving. “Let’s see what you’ve got. How about a little audition, just so’s its fair? Don’t want ol’ Baby Billy being accused of playing favourites, now.”
Judy beamed with excitement, her eyes sparkling with a readiness that lit up the room. “I’m ready, Uncle Baby Billy! I’ll blow the roof off this place,” she declared, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Just tell me where you want me!”
“Hold on there, speed racer,” he chuckled, raising a hand to temper her enthusiasm. “There’s a bit of preparation that needs to be done first.” He gestured toward a group of staff members who were exiting the backroom to continue the clean-up in the centre. “Why don’t you help tidy up while the band gets themselves ready on stage?” he suggested, handing her a mop from the trolley behind him with a playful smile.
Judy’s face fell for the briefest moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features. “Uh, no fuckin’ way,” she protested, holding the mop out to you. You took it from her, feeling the rough handle in your grip. “I’m the star, not the help.”
Baby Billy exhaled and caressed his forehead with his thumb as he glanced at her. “Now, Judy, we must exhibit grace in all our actions,” he murmured, retrieving the mop from your grasp and placing it in her hands. His fingertips grazed yours, sending a shock wave of energy through your nerves. “Amy-Leigh and I, we began by mopping the floors of the church halls where we would perform each Sunday.”
Judy looked down at the mop in her hands, her defiance wavering as she absorbed his words. “Those were humble beginnings,” he continued, his voice filled with a nostalgic warmth. “But it taught us the value of hard work and humility. We learned to appreciate every step of our journey, no matter how insignificant it seemed.”
Judy sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Alright, Baby Billy,” she muttered, reluctantly accepting her fate. “But you owe me one for this.” She turned to you, jutting her head towards the door. “Let’s go.”
Baby Billy chuckled, a soft, reassuring sound that seemed to lighten the atmosphere. “Hold on a minute,” he patted Judy’s shoulder gently, his touch almost fatherly. His gaze then shifted to you, his eyes twinkling with both mischief and sincerity. “I have a different job for your friend here,” he said, his voice laden with a sense of importance. He turned fully towards you, his smile warm and inviting. “If you’ll accept.”
You felt the weight of his words, the air thick with anticipation as Judy’s eyes fell on you. Baby Billy’s influence was commanding. It made you feel both honoured and nervous.
You nodded, your voice barely audible, and uttered, “I’ll help.”
“Alright,” he grinned, slapping his hands together with enthusiasm. He instructed the band and the other employees to return to the main area as he carefully led Judy to the exit. “Make sure you give it a thorough cleaning, Judy. The Lord is always watchin’,” he remarked, nudging her through the door and shutting it on her objections.
Your throat dried as you watched him twist the lock, producing a thunderous click that reverberated throughout the silent room. The sound seemed to echo endlessly, amplifying the tension that had been steadily building. He redirected his attention to you, his expression warm and inviting, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. Yet, there was a glint of something darker in his eyes, a flicker of intent that sent a shiver down your spine.
“She’s got a lot of spirit, doesn’t she?” he said, his tone light as he stalked towards you. You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat under his potent stare. “Always been so desperate to prove herself, our sweet Judy,” he continued. His eyes didn’t leave yours. He stopped just a step away from you. “What about you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a soft, almost tender whisper.
As you swallowed hard, the severity of his question hit you. The room felt suffocating as you struggled to calm your breathing. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something deeper, and you found it hard to think straight under his watch.
“What about me?” you gulped, your voice hardly steady.
He stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back. Your back hit the edge of the vanity, causing various lotions and potions to topple over, clattering onto the floor. Your fingers grasped at the table, the cool wood grounding you as you looked up into Baby Billy’s predatory gaze.
His eyes, fierce and unyielding, locked onto yours, making your heart pound against your chest. He was so close that you could feel the raw magnetism seeping from him, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and electrified.
“Are you desperate to prove yourself?” he asked, his finger lightly grazing your chin. He tilted it upwards, leaving you no choice but to look directly at him. The touch of his fingertip sent a pulse of arousal through you, making your pussy thrum. You squeezed your thighs together to ease the ache between them. His gaze was unrelenting, piercing through your defences and searching for the truth hidden within you.
“I-I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice breaking. It wasn’t true. Deep inside, you felt a magnetic pull toward the older man standing before you, a profound need to please him. You’d fantasized about this moment countless times over the years, your fingers teasing your most sensitive spots as you pictured him. You had writhed against your mattress, biting your lip to stifle his name from escaping them in a heated whisper. You’d wanted him for so many years.
“Don’t be shy now,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes glinted with amusement and something primal. “You certainly weren’t when you were giving me those eyes during the service.” His voice dripped with a teasing tone, each word deliberately slow, as if savouring the memory.
His words sent a flush of heat through your cheeks and you tried to look away, but his finger held your chin in place, keeping your gaze locked with his. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his presence overwhelming. The room seemed to shrink around you, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension and desire as you looked up at him, transfixed.
His thumb brushed lightly across your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, making it hard to think clearly. His eyes, a captivating blend of mischief and command, searched yours for any sign of resistance, but all he found was the raw vulnerability you tried to hide.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he uttered, his voice a velvety whisper that seemed to wrap around you. “I see you, all of you.” The sincerity in his tone made your heart clench, any defiance melting away under the heat of his gaze.
He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your lips, teasing and tempting. The closeness was intoxicating, every nerve in your body alert to his presence. You could feel the strength in his grip, the subtle dominance that made you weak with craving. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, the promise of what could happen hanging heavily in the air.
“I saw the way you looked at me,” he continued, his voice low and intimate. “Like you were daring me to come over and do something about it.” His eyes smouldered with intent, and the smirk on his lips grew more pronounced. The weight of his gaze was almost too heavy to withstand, filled with challenge and promise that made your pulse quicken.
You struggled to react to his words, a haze of lust clouding your mind as he leaned in closer. The mixture of authority and need in his eyes was utterly mesmerizing, making it impossible to look away. Your entire being, every fibre in your body was alive with excitement.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Do you want me to do something about it?” His question hung in the air, the weight of it pressing down on you as you struggled to find your voice.
Another sharp intake, the proximity and the raw emotion in his voice, leaving you vulnerable. “Yes,” you whispered, the admission sending a thrill through you.
A satisfied smile curved his lips as he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your mouth. “Good,” he whispered back, his voice low and commanding. “Clothes off, angel.”
His words sent a shiver of anticipation through you, and you hesitantly glanced toward the door. Sensing your distraction, he gently tilted your chin back toward him, his eyes locking onto yours with a determined gaze.
“Don’t you worry about her,” he assured, his voice soft yet assertive, drawing your attention back to the moment. “You focus on me.”
“But you said that the Lord is always watching,” you reminded him, echoing the words he had spoken to Judy just moments before.
Raised in a devout Christian household, you had lived and worked with the Gemstones, always striving to be the virtuous, Christian woman your mother wanted you to be. A part of you knew that this was sinful, felt wrong, like a lamb being led to slaughter. Yet a larger part of you—the part that felt a fire ignited within, burning and aching for more of his touch—knew that your words were a hollow attempt to save face before you gave in.
He smiled, running his hands up and down your arms in a soothing gesture. “The Lord and I, we have a deal,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Ain’t no one’s eyes on you but mine.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, both comforting and thrilling. Taking a step forward, his hand made contact with your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin. “I bet you’ve tried so hard to be the good girl, to live up to everyone’s expectations,” he murmured. “But what about your own needs? What about what you want, hmm?”
Your heart pounded as his words took hold, resonating within you. The years of restraint, the hidden fantasies, all converged at this single moment. “I... I want this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve never been with a man before.”
His smile widened, a mix of triumph and tenderness. “Oh darlin’, I know that. I’ll be gentle,” he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, drawing you closer until your lips were almost touching. “Let me show you what it means to truly surrender.”
The last barrier within you crumbled, and with a shuddering breath, you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both fervent and tender. You sighed into his mouth as his tongue licked against your own; the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. You felt consumed by him. It was as if all your reservations had melted away, leaving only a deep, aching need for his touch. His hands roamed your body with a possessive tenderness, and you knew there was no turning back.
He released you, gave you an encouraging smile as his eyes flickered over your body. You hesitantly undressed, your fingers fumbling with the buttons and fabric. The room seemed to grow warmer with each piece of clothing that fell away, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air. His expression was a mix of appreciation and yearning, his eyes darkening with every inch of you revealed.
“That’s it,” he said when you were bare before him. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing a path down your chest, over the swell of your breast. The touch was exhilarating, sending waves of sensation through your body. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over you with undisguised admiration. “A sight to behold.”
His hands moved to your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies pressed together. The feel of the rich fabric of his suit against your skin gave you goosebumps, and he slowly traced kisses down the expanse of your neck, over your collarbone, until he reached your breasts. He took one hardened nipple into his mouth, enclosing his lips around it as you gasped.
You grabbed hold of his shoulders for support as your legs weakened from the fiery touch of his tongue. His mouth worked skilfully, alternating between gentle sucking and flicking, setting your nerves on fire. His other hand caressed your side, his touch both reassuring and tantalizing.
“You’re so sensitive,” he mumbled into you, his voice thick with want. His hand moved to your other breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple, eliciting another gasp from you. He switched his attention, giving your other nipple the same devoted attention, his mouth and hand working in perfect harmony.
Your body responded to his touch, arching into him as the pleasure built. The contrast of the soft fabric of his suit and the firmness of his body against your bare skin heightened every sensation. You could sense the power in his shoulders under your grip, grounding you as he continued his exploration.
He left your nipple with a suctioned pop, lifting you until you perched on the vanity table. His mouth was back on you, kisses trailing lower over your breasts, down your stomach as his hands guided you to lean against the mirror. He knelt between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. His fingers grazed your thighs as he paused. Looking up at you, a devious grin spreading across his lips.
“Wouldn’t deny an old man a taste, would you?” he asked, low and teasing as he parted your legs wider.
You held back a moan, the longing building as his hands caressed your thighs, spreading them apart. The cool surface of the mirror against your back contrasted with the heat of his breath on your skin, making every feeling more intense. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you pulsating.
“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I wouldn’t.”
His smile widened, a look of triumph and hunger in his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hands sliding round to grip your thighs firmly, your mind reeling from his praise.
He leaned in, his mouth descending to your core, and you mewled his name as the flat of his tongue dragged through your wet slit. He moved skilfully, exploring every inch of you, his hands holding you open as he flicked and swirled his tongue over your sensitive flesh. When his lips wrapped around your clit and he began sucking gently on the bundle of nerves, you couldn’t suppress the whine that escaped your lips.
One of your hands left the vanity, slipped into his perfect hair, tugging and pulling him closer, desperate to feel more of the intense, foreign sensation. He groaned in response; the vibration adding another layer of pleasure as he continued his ministrations, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive spots with precision and care.
Your hips bucked against him when you felt his tongue dipping into your tight hole. He laughed, his grip on your thighs tightening as he held you to the table and fucked your cunt with his tongue. His strong nose brushed against your sensitive clit, and you cried out, fighting against his hold to grind against him, desperate for more friction.
“Baby Billy, it feels s-so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling with pleasure.
With his finger prodding at your entrance, your grip on his hair tightened and your back arched, while his lips encased your clit again, sucking with fervour as you adjusted to the stretch of his finger.
As he stared at you greedily, he pulled back to witness his finger sliding into you, wet with your juices. “Oh, you sweet thing,” he cooed, his voice dripping with lust, adding to the growing tightness of the coil within you. Your eyes widened as you felt another finger prod experimentally at your hole, swirling through your arousal before pushing in to join the first. You gasped at the stretch, then broke into a cry when he curled them against you, hitting a spot that had your vision spotting.
With precision, he twisted and thrust his fingers, never taking his eyes off your face as he watched your reactions. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a mix of encouragement and dominance. “Let me see how good it feels.”
Your pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. His fingers moved faster, curling and stroking the sensitive spot inside you with expert skill as the rings that adorned them stretched you deliciously, the chill of them a shock against your dripping heat. The wet sounds of your arousal and your increasingly frantic moans echoed throughout the room.
“Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”
He smirked, relishing the impact he had on you, and the sight of him so dishevelled—hair unkempt and face glistening from your juices—had you grasping at him, pulling him up toward you for another heated kiss. You rocked your hips harder as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, the taste of yourself on his lips adding to the sinful pleasure.
His mouth swallowed your moans, the kiss deep and hungry, your tongues tangling as you revelled in the shared intensity. His fingers moved relentlessly, curling and thrusting with expert precision, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over as he thumbed your clit.
The room seemed to spin as the pleasure built, your body tightening around his fingers. His free hand roamed your body, caressing and gripping your curves, adding to the sensation of overload. Every touch, every thrust, pushed you towards the brink.
“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips. “Feel how wet you are, letting Baby Billy do such unholy things to you.”
You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The rhythm of his fingers was driving you wild, the coil inside you tightening to the breaking point.
A choked sob escaped you as your muscles clenched around his fingers, your body convulsing with pleasure as the tension finally broke. He held you through it, fingers never stopping their assault, drawing out every shudder and gasp. You slowly came back down, eyes bleary and body quivering around him. He looked down at the mess between your thighs where his fingers were slowly retracting from your cunt. His eyes shone with a satisfied gleam.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. His fingers glistened with your arousal as he brought them to his lips, tasting you once more with a low, appreciative moan. “You’re nice and ready for me now,” he grinned, pushing between your legs to grind his clothed arousal against you.
He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you to move against him. “Feel that?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “That’s what you’ve done to me.” His eyes locked on yours. The intensity in them makes even more heat pool between your thighs.
The friction of his hard length against your slick folds sent shivers through your body, your hips rocking against him to seek more. His grip tightened, controlling your movements as he pressed harder against you, the fabric of his pants only heightening the sensation.
“You want this, don’t you?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me how much you want it now.”
You reacted to his command, a moan escaping your lips as you ground against him with more urgency. “I want it,” you uttered, your voice quivering with longing. “Please, Baby Billy. I need you.”
His grin widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he watched you writhe against him. “Oh angel,” he sighed, his voice rough with lust. “You’re gonna get exactly what you need.”
He pulled back just enough to unzip his pants, freeing his aching cock. The sight made your mouth water—thick and long, with a slight curve and beads of pre-cum glistening on his swollen, red tip. He stroked himself, spreading the slickness over his length, and you watched, mesmerized. A sudden curiosity flooded you, imagining the weight and taste of him on your tongue.
“See something you like?“ he teased, his voice a sultry, enticing rumble. His eyes clouded with desire as he watched your reaction, enjoying the effect he had on you. He stepped closer, his hand still working his shaft slowly, as if to give you a show. His eyes flicked to the door, then back to you, his expression deep in thought. “Ain’t enough time for that now, but you best believe I’ll be puttin’ that mouth to good use next time.”
Before you had time to contemplate his words, Baby Billy grabbed at your thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he positioned himself at your entrance. The weeping head of his cock teased through your slick folds, sending shivers up your spine. His eyes snapped to yours when he heard the whimper fall from your lips, an almost sadistic grin spreading across his face.
Whispering softly, he brushed his lips teasingly against yours, and said, “Once I’m finished with you, you’ll belong to me, understand?”
With a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you. The stretch was an exquisite blend of pleasure and pain, making your vision blur and chest heave as you clung to him. Driven wild by the sensation of your tight, wet heat, he let out a guttural moan as he pushed himself deeper.
“Good Lord, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, his voice thick with passion. His firm hands held onto your hips tightly, bringing you closer as he filled you entirely. The overwhelming force of the moment left you breathless, your body trembling with each inch he claimed.
He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness, his eyes hardened with possessiveness as they locked onto yours. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Made just for me.”
His words made you keen, your mind empty except for the thought of Baby Billy and his cock consuming you. Pleas tumbled from your lips, urging him to move, begging him to fill you, and he groaned as he snapped his hips, setting a slow and deliberate pace so that you could feel every ridge of his cock as he moved within you.
“That’s it,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut briefly at the tightness of you around him, fingers digging into your hips as he fucked into you. “Take all of me. I know you can.”
As the sparks of pain subsided, overwhelming surges of pleasure took over. The vanity and mirror slammed loudly against the wall as he rocked your hips to meet his, matching his rhythm perfectly. You were so absorbed in him you didn’t care about the door just a few feet away, separating your friend — his kin — from possibly hearing the illicit act you were engaged in.
With your back arching into him, you pleaded for more, as his lips wrapped around your nipple again, eliciting a desperate whine from you. “Faster, please.”
With a growl, he responded, grazing your sensitive bud with his teeth, causing you to sharply inhale. His muffled curse vibrated against your skin as he picked up the pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes that reached new depths, pushing you closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his shoulders, crinkling the fabric of his expensive suit.
“I knew you weren’t as innocent as you seemed,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice dripping with raw desire. “Can’t get enough of Baby Billy, can you?”
His breath was hot and heavy against your chest, each word making your spine tingle. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he thrust deeper, the intensity of his movements mirroring the hunger in his voice.
“It’s like music to my ears, hearing you beg,” he murmured, delivering a final flick of his tongue over your nipple before straightening to meet your gaze. “My new favourite song.”
The sincerity in his eyes made your heart race even faster, the connection between you electrifying. He held your gaze with an intensity that left you breathless, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. Every thrust, every touch, was a symphony of pleasure that built and built, pushing you both closer to the edge.
As you teetered on the brink of another orgasm, your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your muscles spasmed. One of Baby Billy’s hands left your thighs, snaking between you to trace wet circles over your swollen clit. You bucked into his hand, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body, as he looked down at you with pride.
“That’s it. Sing for me, angel,” he commanded.
As your body convulsed around him, a broken cry ripped from your throat. Your thighs shook and you gripped him tighter, riding out your earth-shattering ecstasy, every muscle tightening as you clutched desperately at him. He watched you with a primal hunger, his eyes dark and filled with greed, captivated by the sight of you falling apart on his cock.
Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, drawing a gasping moan from his lips. The sensation was too much for him to handle, and his thrusts became sloppy and erratic, each movement driven by pure instinct. His hands gripped your hips with bruising force, trying to maintain some semblance of control as the pleasure overwhelmed him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice heavy with need. “You got me feelin’ some kind of way, angel. Something wicked.”
His words had you spiralling, your orgasm continuing to crash over you like a tidal wave. Your garbled cry cut short as he captured your lips with his and you moaned into his mouth, riding out the rest of your climax with desperate ruts of your hips, clinging to him for dear life.
His kiss was deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of you. He held you tight, grounding you both as he bucked at a frenzied pace, chasing his own release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the faltering rhythm of his thrusts echoing in the heated air. Your lips tore from his, head dropped back against the mirror, eyes half-closed, as you surrendered to Baby Billy’s insistent need.
He used your cunt for his own amusement, his thick girth splitting you open and filling you. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure and pain through your body, the intensity almost too much to bear. You breathed in shallow, erratic gulps, mingling with his groans of pleasure.
“You gonna let Baby Billy finish inside of you?” he grunted as you felt the powerful contraction of his muscles under your fingers. “Go back out there with my cum filling you, let everyone know who owns you now.”
His words, steeped in raw, possessive control, gave you goosebumps. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and the thought of being so intimately claimed ignited a fire within you. You could barely manage a nod, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, your breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Yes,” you managed, your voice trembling with need. “F-fill me.”
His eyes shone at your words, lighting up with pride. You felt him pulse and throb inside you, and with a final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. His body shuddered as he found his release, the hot spurts of his cum flooding you, mingling with your own arousal to create an intoxicating warmth. You milked him for every drop of his seed, drawing out every ounce of pleasure.
Your body, wrecked and trembling, collapsed against his as you sobbed into the crook of his neck. A combination of fulfilment and exhaustion washed over you, your breathing slowly adjusting to a calmer rhythm. His gentle touch roamed your spine in soothing strokes, grounding you as you both basked in the afterglow. The surrounding air seemed to hum with the energy of your passion, the scent of sweat and sex lingering, creating a heady, intimate atmosphere.
With his breath still uneven against your skin, he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “That was a job well done,” he murmured, his voice prideful despite his jest. He groaned as he pulled himself from your swollen cunt, eyes shining at the sight of you leaking with his load. You whimpered at the emptiness, a pout forming on your lips as he tucked himself away, but then he pushed two digits into you, stuffing your pussy almost full again.
“Keep it all in there,” he said, his eyes flicking to you as he twisted his fingers. The squelch of his load being forced back inside of you filled the room, an erotic sound that made your mouth water. “I wasn’t lying. Baby Billy wants you out there, front and centre.”
The intensity in his gaze, coupled with the sensation of his fingers pushing his cum deeper inside you, had you shaking again. Each movement was deliberate, ensuring you felt every bit of his claim on you. The thought of stepping out, filled with his essence, ignited a mix of thrill and arousal within you.
He finally withdrew his fingers, leaving you with a lingering sense of fullness. “Now, let’s get you dressed,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He helped you to your feet, steadying you as you adjusted to standing. The rush of reality hit you as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror—marks from his mouth adorned your breasts, and bruises from his fingers dotted your thighs. You looked spent, yet there was a radiant glow to your skin that hadn’t been there before.
You watched in the mirror as Baby Billy adjusted his suit, fixing his hair until it was back in almost perfect condition. He dabbed at the sweat that had formed on his brow with his handkerchief, his focus intent on readying himself. The sight of him, composed and immaculate, made you suddenly aware of your own state. You felt uncomfortably exposed and quickly retrieved your clothes from the floor.
Your body ached as you dressed, each movement a reminder of what you’d just done. Your muscles throbbed from the recent exertion, and as you put on your clothes, the thoughts that had been repressed by passion now surged through your mind. The reality of your sin with the pastor drowned you in a wave of guilt and confusion.
You wanted to regret it, to tell yourself that you would pray for forgiveness, but you knew it wasn’t true. You’d wanted him so much, was willing to throw all caution to the wind and give yourself so freely to him. Now, he seemed so distant from you, and maybe that felt worse than anything. The desire that had driven you to this moment still simmered under the surface, a raw and undeniable truth.
As you finished dressing, you caught your reflection in the mirror. The marks on your body, the glow in your skin, all told the story of what had transpired. You felt a complex mix of emotions—shame, guilt, satisfaction, and a strange sense of pride.
Baby Billy turned to you, his eyes softening as he took in your appearance. “You alright?” he asked, his voice gentle, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.
With a nod, you managed a slight smile. “Yeah, I think so.”
Drawing nearer, he lightly brushed his thumb against your cheek. “No one else needs to know what happened here.”
You took a deep breath, fully absorbing the impact of his words. The secret you now shared felt like a heavy burden, one you couldn’t speak of to anyone. The fear that this might be your last moment with him gnawed at you, prompting you to ask softly, “Will I see you again?”
He smiled, a teasing glint in his eye, as he leaned in to place a gentle, lingering kiss on your lips. When he pulled back, he lightly tapped his finger over your bottom lip, his touch both tender and possessive.
“Oh darlin’,” he drawled, his voice low and filled with promise, “didn’t I already tell you I’d be puttin’ this mouth to good use one day?”
The way he said it sent a chill through you, the intimacy of his words and the light touch on your lip igniting a spark within you. His eyes held yours, the playful glint mixing with something deeper, a reassurance that this moment was far from the last.
As he stepped back, his hand trailed from your lip to your chin, lifting it slightly. His gaze softened, the teasing replaced with genuine affection as he murmured, “this isn’t the last you’ll see of Baby Billy.”
#uncle baby billy#uncle baby billy x reader#baby billy x reader#the righteous gemstones#walton goggins#baby billy freeman#baby billy freeman x reader#fic request#uncle baby billy smut#baby billy smut#smut fic#the righteous gemstones smut#the righteous gemstones x reader#corruption kink#walton goggins x reader#x reader
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Saturday Afternoon Genconf notes/thoughts (very scattered)
"We may have different circumstances, but we all can make a difference."
CHILDRENS CHOIR!!!
PATRICK KEARONNNN!!!!!!
"Welcome to the church of joy." "Jesus Christ is joy. ... the source of all joy." AMEN BROTHER
Loose quote bc i forgot the exsct wording: In the stillness, we can ponder all the ways we've seen the Lord relentlessly pursue us in the past week.
RELENTLESS PURSUIT MENTIONNN 💪 💪
I love Elder Gong
WHERES RICHARD ELLIOT THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND oh wait it-s a different organist for the children's choir
Be friends with people like Jesus was friends with people 👍 ♥
"There is always much more that unites us than divides us."
I love Elder Soares
THE KIDS ARE ADORABLE I LOVE THEM SM!!!! THEYRE SUCH GOOD SINGERS!!!
NOOO ITS OVER I WANNA HEAR THE KIDS MORE
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It’s the Sabbath, the holiest day of the week, and you go to mass like you always do. But there’s an unseen difference in this practice for you today.
Your bruised knees ache. You keep your coat on to try to hide the slowly-fading red blotches on your neck. You try your best to avoid the priest. You don’t feel like you can speak to him or even look at him for too long. The last time you held eye contact with him was deeply unholy, and your memory flashes back to a week ago in the warm, dark study… his hands on your bare skin, certain and determined. And his eyes, full of hunger and lust for your equally needy body. You watch him from afar, all the way in the final pew, as he stands in the pulpit. You try your best to hear what is being said and taught, but all you can think about is how he looks under those robes.
You are brought harshly out of your daydream when it’s time to take communion. You get progressively more nervous the closer the line proceeds. You wonder if your fellow parishioners can still smell it on you: the sweat, his cologne, the lingering smell of sex that you can’t seem to wash out of that shirt. Did anyone notice how you struggled to get on your knees to pray? How little you’ve been paying attention?
Suddenly, it is your turn to take Holy Communion. You hold your hands out in front of you, right over left, and wait for him. When he looks up at you and smiles, you feel your heart skip a beat.
“The body of Christ,” he says. That voice is etched into your mind and cannot seem to work it’s way out. It’s more beautiful than a choir of angels, but reminds you of your most dirty, sinful acts.
“Amen,” you manage to squeak. You feel yourself start to sweat as his hand comes toward you with the host. You panic — ‘what is he doing? I’m clearly holding out my hands.’
“Open your mouth,” he whispers, just barely audible. You can feel your face turn cherry red and your heart is thumping in your ears. Nonetheless, you obey him, parting your lips and tilting your head back slightly. The last time you did this in front of him, he was teaching you how to take something else into your mouth. You can nearly feel his hand gripping your hair again. Instinctively, you stick out your tongue, just barely beyond your lips. He looks deep into your eyes as he places the host on your tongue. You shiver, but take of it the way you know you’re supposed to.
He hands you the cup of wine, his satisfaction clear on his face with a smug grin. “The blood of Christ.”
“Amen,” you take the cup into your shaking hands and take a bigger swallow of the wine than usual.
You quickly walk around him with your eyes to the floor, on your way back to the pew you came from. Your overwhelmed mind wonders if anyone else saw that, if you looked foolish taking communion in your mouth for the first time in your life, and, most abashedly, if he still thinks about that night too. You wonder if he still yearns for you, the way you crave the gorgeous sins he presents to you.
The final question is answered when he makes a point to whisper to you again, like a temptation in the wind, as you pass him.
“What a good boy you are.”
#oaks cathedral#t4t nsft#priest#nsft#nsft thoughts#bd/sm kink#heiro#k!nky#k!nky thoughts#nsft concept#queer nsft#bd/sm switch#degredation kink#priest kink#heirophilia#heirophile#blasphamous#blasphemy#sacreligious#sacrilege
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This was where Marco should have stopped, pulled back and told her that her lips were unbelievably soft, and that her tongue had melted in his mouth, but he didn't. Sariel kissed him back and he stepped in closer to deepen the kiss, his hand moved to the small of her back, the other slipped through the blond hair that fell across the side of her head. Marco had been thinking about kissing her since that first day when she'd tripped the Dahlia wards in the summer time. When he'd stupidly welcomed her into his home after she'd peddled her false pretenses, into the kitchen where he'd once again been stupid enough to dose her emotions until she was stood there weeping. Well, Marco hadn't wanted to kiss her then because that'd have been weird but he had felt bad.
Midsommar when they'd squeezed in one dance together in between his shifts of- no, Marco wasn't going to go there. Instead he stepped in, even as the dining table jolted when Sariel was backed up into it. The witch felt warm, not in the panicky way like he had before because this was nothing like that. If nothing else it was the complete antithesis like so much anxiety had been built around this that once he finally kissed her it all dissolved entirely. Marco's lips moved towards her jaw, and then towards Sariel's neck as he slipped the fallen's blazer off of her shoulders. Any thoughts or reservations he might have had before this fell from his mind entirely as his own jacket followed suit with a brief pause where his lips were no longer on her body. Instead his dark eyes held a sheepish smile as he dropped his jacket on the chair next to them, Marco's lips on Sariel's once more.
"Sorry," she winces, sheepish as she realizes that she had defaulted to her behavior back in Haven on a panic. Maybe she wasn't quite as ready to face the world after all, if she is defaulting to acting like everything is falling apart still. "I might have overreacted," she admits, lips pressing together as she realizes that part of it is that she is still shaken, but a bigger part had to do about the man before her than anything else. She wanted him to be happy, to be safe, and yeah. She is still worried about the world ending, but she is more worried about it taking Marco once more. "If it makes you feel better, I love listening to you talk. Even when nervous. It's cute."
He is cute, there is something soft about his gaze and the way he holds himself that stops her from looking away, even as her eyes flicker down to his mouth and upwards when she saw a glimpse of his tongue. Swallowing hard, she raises her eyes back to his and then her breath gets stuck on her throat as his hand reaches up, his fingers brushing her hair. She wants more, so much more, but she doesn't want to push, not when he is so gentle with her, not when he has always been so soft with her, as if she were delicate, instead of drenched in blood and betrayal.
At the end, she doesn't have much time to think about how to ask, because he gives it to her.
Eyelids fallen close, she sinks into the kiss with a sigh. hands moving up grab his shirt and she pulls him closer, kiss turning insistent and needy.
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