#prayin' this gets attention

[a-hypnos-v]

first time drawin him, hope i got the likeness right, but tips would be appreciated from any seasoned fanartists of him

[aka-indulgence]

A Kraken’s Rage

So after making this post I’ve decided to make it. Here’s a kraken, angry because someone stole his wife >:(

————

The rain beats down on the deck, the sound of crashing rain and storm surrounding you. You hear men shouting as the ship rocks back and forth. Your dress is soaked. If it kept you warm before, you’re cold now. The chill bled right under your skin down to your bones. You shiver and shudder uncontrollably.

I’d rather be tied up under the deck…

You strain against the thick, rough ropes that tied your middle. You were hoping that, maybe with the rain, you’d somehow be slippery enough to slip out of them. Of course that wasn’t the case- you felt stupid. You wanted to itch your arms so bad, the rope was horribly coarse and whenever you moved the frayed parts would scratch your skin. You grab onto the rope with the edges of your fingers and pulled at it, to no avail. None of the men were paying you much attention, too busy attending to the ship.

Except for one, apparently.

“Ay lass, why don’t ye stop your strugglin’,”

Your face sours as the captain of the ship walks over to you, back straight and shoulders wide, like a soldier. And just because he mentioned it, you try twice harder to pull at your ropes, trying to throw your weight around to no avail.

“I see ye keep struggling fer hours now. Why don’t ye give to the sky? Yer not gettin’ out of them ropes. They’re tight, I made sure of that.”

You growled at him. “What are you doing paying attention to me? Isn’t the captain supposed to pay attention to his crew and make sure this ship doesn’t fall apart?!”

He laughed. Oh you hate him, you hate him so much. You hated how he looked at you. His band of pirates raided your seaside town and he had the gall to ask you to be his wench. Of course you said no, but the big man apparently got offended by a little woman saying no, and dragged you to his ship. You’re not sure what he’s planning to do to you by the end of this, but he does enjoy causing your displeasure.

“Never been on a ship while the storm be raging? This here ship ‘as handled just fine. Ye on the other hand might run off an’ do somethin’ stupid again.”

You shut your eyes and muttered under your breath. “Please… save me Sans.”

“Who be ye prayin’ to, lass?” You opened your eyes and decidedly looked away from the captain. “I’m surprised ya ‘aven’t abandoned hope. No one can save ye. Ye can’t save yerself less than throwin’ yerself overboard.”

You flinch when you hear the sound of a sword being drawn, and the menacing glint of the captain’s sword close to your neck. You strain against the rope, trying to keep your distance.

“Unless ye want me to end yer voyage right now.”

“N… no…” you whisper, gritting your teeth, shuddering in fear this time.

The captain’s chuckle was stopped when there was a sound, off in the distance.

It was no thunder, and though you don’t think you’ve ever heard something like it, you felt a shiver up your spine. Like the sound of landmasses creaking before they split apart. You’re sure the men felt it too, because all of them stopped what they were doing, their voices falling silent. Even through the rain and the waves, you could hear your breath. The captain turns his head towards the crow’s nest and yells.

“Wayland! What it be!?”

“I-I don’t know sir! But there be something in the water!”

“Going to need more than that there, Wayland!” The captain growls. The rest of the men have run to the railing, trying to get a better look.

“I-it’s coming… It’s huge!”

Everyone collectively yelped when something bumped into the ship, sending a couple of men off their balance. The captain himself grabbed onto the mast to steady himself. The men still at the railing start to yell and curse, throwing themselves off and towards the middle of the ship.

“It’s a foul beast captain!”

“Then what be it?!” the captain shouts, getting impatient.

The men get increasingly frantic as another sound shakes the whole ship, this time much clearer and closer. It rumbled deeply, as if the ocean itself was growling at the ship.

There was a moment where everything went quiet, and all you could hear were the crashing waves, and the rain.

…

A wail rips out of the water, the sound of a hundred grieving whales. Then, tentacles the size of redwood trees split the waves, slamming onto the deck and taking a tight grip on it, sending a couple men flying out of the way.

Your mouth opens. The captain murmurs under his breath.

“No…”

“KRAKEN!!” Wayland cries, as a tentacle wraps around the mast above him.

“I see that now, Wayland!” The captain growls, as he runs off to bark orders at his crew.

Your heart pounds as a familiar skeleton hand digs its fingers into the deck, causing it to splinter and crack under it. A skull rises out of the water, big red lights in his sockets swimming red with rage, the monster gritting his teeth, staring at everyone on the ship. He rises halfway up his ribcage. His eyelights scan over the scene, looking at every person until you meet his eyes. In a blink, his expression changes, eyes turning into a familiar seafoam color.

The unmistakable sound of his purr cuts through the screams of the panicking men for a moment.

“Sans,” you breathe.

A ‘small’ smile widens on his mouth, and you see a tentacle approach you- before someone slices their sword into it.

Sans cries, the sound as loud as thunder. His eyelights shift to red once more, glaring at the man who’d done it, still attached to the hilt. He grimaces, sending a wave down his tentacle, flicking both the man and the sword off as if he was merely a mosquito. He slams down both hands on both sides of the ship, making it look like a toy.

He shrills, his voice rippling through the air and no doubt striking fear down to the pirates hearts. A voice booms through your mind.

YOU

TOOK

HER

AWAY

FROM

ME!

Screams erupt. Chaos takes over around you as the men try to fight off his tentacles with guns and swords, to no avail.

Your jaw goes slack as you watch them get tossed around like ragdolls. You squeak when a man gets slammed down next to you, his sword thrown out of his hand as a tentacle weighs heavily on him, before he gets wiped over the deck. He snatches them one by one, throwing them off into the raging skies. You see a man’s cry end as he gets choked by the tentacle constricting him.

One man’s scream fade as he’s picked up high above the sea, in front of Sans’ snarling face. His mouth opens, revealing the sharp monstrous teeth, like sharp rocks below the cliff, and he lets out a sky-splitting shriek, drowning the sounds of the man. Lightning strikes, coloring the sky white and leaving their silhouette as black as night.

You hear an awful crunching sound, then silence.

Rain trickles down your face like a river, from your forehead, over your nose, down your cheek to your chin.

Ahead of you, liquid falls to the deck. It isn’t rain.

The portside of the deck has been ripped off.  A tentacle grabs onto the bowspirit and snaps it off like a twig. His shadows move and dance over everyone. A lot of men have resorted to retreating below deck.

This… this Kraken’s Rage… his anger, the tentacles hooked on the ship, making it creak beyond what it’s capable of…

This was all for you. Maybe you should be afraid like the men much bigger and stronger than you, running for their life. But all you felt was wonderment for Sans, who had miraculously found his way to you.

The storm surged along with the kraken. The ocean a deep teal and the sky dark gray. Thunder crashed as he cried. It was as if he was the storm itself.

“W-whoa!” you exclaim, as the ship starts to rock back and forth so violently, that a wave crashes over the deck, seawater spraying your face.

“Sans! Help!”

He turns to look at you, and reaches with his hand. A finger as big as tree bark start to claw and pick at the ropes, until they split apart. You stumble out of your bindings and make your way to his hand, when you hear a yell.

“Fire in the hole!”

Your heart drops as the world slow downs for a few seconds, a cannonball shot at Sans’ ribcage.

“N-no!”

Fear strikes you, as you worry for a moment that your beloved kraken had just been shot through the chest with a bullet. It hits his rib and you hear an awful crack. Sans wails like a whale that’d just been harpooned, and your jaw falls as he falls backwards.

… But it doesn’t last long.

He growls, a flash of red in his sockets, and his fingers run through the starboard, the men falling with their cannons. You look over the side, seeing how long it takes for you to hear their splash. You swallow. The ship was bigger than you thought it was.

You shake your head, looking away from the water, and back to Sans. You make for him, but before you could get his attention, a pair of hands close around your arm.

“Agh!”

“Yer not going anywhere, lass.” You grit your teeth when you realize the captain’s dragging you away from what’s left of the rails.

“What are you doing?! Your ship’s a wreck, you should abandon ship!”

“We might ‘ave a fightin’ chance if we can get farrr away from that there beast ‘o yers. He might stop if he sees he might hurt ye…”

“Urgh… let go of me you scoundrel!”

You go back and forth from the captain, struggling for your life. You stomp the captain’s boot, but that only gets him to curse and pull you harsh enough that it felt like he’s trying to twist your arm off. You yelp, hating that despite using all your effort, the captain was still too strong for you to escape.

Luckily for you, there was someone far stronger than him.

As soon Sans saw what was happening, he shrieks, bringing both of your attention to him. His eyelights had locked on the hands on you, and that set him off. He let out a continuous high-pitched gurgling sound, and before the captain could unsheath his sword, a hand had slipped in between you and him, separating the both of you. The captain roars in frustration- sounding like a helpless seadog compared to Sans- eyes widening when a huge shadow looms over him, a tentacle posing to strike.

He manages to dodge at the last second by scrambling out of the way as it hits the deck like a cannonball. The cracks and crunches as the tentacle continues downwards makes it sound like it reached all the way to the bottom. You peek out of Sans’ fingers.

“Ah, ye missed me ye foul beast!” The captain shouts triumphantly. You grit your teeth and brace again Sans’ finger, wishing you could fight him yourself.

The captain celebrates too early, however, as the planks below him creak under his weight and cracks, screaming as he falls down the floors of the ship.

You see a flash- water was quickly filling the ship. Without further ‘encouragement’ from Sans, the rest of the men were jumping into the water.

You’re raised to Sans’ shoulder, and he lets you climb onto it. You fold, clinging onto his neck, as Sans lets out the last of his frustration, ripping what’s left of the ship into splinters, the sails falling and some screams going silent as he drags the ship under the waves.

You pant, shuddering in the cold, as you see the ship turn to nothing but frothing bubbles and driftwood. Sans puffs his chest out, as if he’d just taken down a competitor.

A speck moves in the water- and the captain surfaces, flailing onto a piece of wood. His moment of peace is quickly broken by the snarl Sans emits, shaking the air around you. As the captain looks up, a tentacle raises above him, and it sways from the base up to the tip. He thrashes his legs, trying to swim out of the way, crashing down on him like a wave, surely crushing him under the water.

He won’t be bothering you anymore.

Sans stares down, bellowing a steam of breath from his mouth. There’s a group of men on a tiny lifeboat, but Sans pays them no mind. He turns around, and they yell when a tentacle drifts near them, sending a tiny wave that rocks their boat.

The storm was merely showers now, water dripping from your hair.

You were still so cold, shivering every few seconds.

There’s an inquisitive sound in Sans’ trill. He picks his hand up close to you and lets you climb on, and you practically hug your knees to keep yourself warm. You’re grateful when he covers you with his other hand, shielding you from whats left of the rain. And his hands were starting to feel warm… like there were little flames in his palms.

His eyelights dilated. As he tries to get a better look of you, you get a clear vision of his eyes. Those seafoam orbs look so kind when they look at you.

He trills again, sounding like a mix between a dolphin and a baby whale. Timid, checking you. It’s hard to believe that your gentle giant really was the same kraken from legends that have brought many to their watery dooms.

“It’s… it’s ok Sans. I’m ok, I’m ok now. Thank you.”

He didn’t need to speak in your mind for you to understand. He purrs, as gentle as lapping waves on the shore. He smiles as sunlight penetrates the heavy clouds and the drizzle fizzles into nothing. He brings you to his face and instinctively you take a step closer to press your cheek to his.

Mmm… he’s so warm.

The sun starts to warm you and though your hair and dress were still soaked, they weren’t dripping as much anymore. Your skin started to dry. Your breaths are shaky and you smile.

You kiss him.

“Thank you, Sans…”

[rustedhearts]

Severed Lamb Part II: Poor Thing (Pastor!Steve x Fem!reader)

summary: pastor steve's fondness for you grows stronger. you find comfort in his praise and attention.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♰ the steve collection ♰

♰ part i: blessed be ♰

warnings: religious imagery/trauma, age gap (delilah is 19, steve is 35), abuse of power, manipulation, heavy petting, alcoholism

♰ Wyndgate, Georgia July 1981 ♰

The room spun.

The wooden walls of the barn became a blur, the floor a pool of brown for you to twirl on, balanced on the tops of your toes. The pointe in your shoe started to splinter last week, shards of wood cutting into your skin and worsening the wounds already ruining your feet—but the air felt so cool whipping around you, billowing in your hair, torpedoing in an effort to catch up with your spinning speed.

You didn't want to stop. You couldn't stop. That quick-moving coolness became addicting in the Georgian heat that summer.

And when you were spinning, you didn't have to think about Mama, or the school sending envelopes asking for tuition money you couldn't pay. You didn't have to think about your old high school friends avoiding you in town, crossing to the other side to giggle and murmur across the street.

But even the spinning didn't put an end to thoughts of Pastor Steve. His broad shoulders, his handsome face, his silky hair, his soft pillowy lips against my head. Every Sunday you spent in that church feels like an eternity, but it was never long enough. You never get enough of his soft, doe-eyed stare; the tilt of his head, the quirk of his lip during a sermon when his eyes caught yours.

You stayed after last week to help pick up pamphlets and clean the pews. It was a particularly sticky, humid day, and wiping down the sweat left by old Amma May's oversized bottom became entirely worth it when Pastor Steve came striding down the aisle from behind the podium.

"That's awfully kind of you, Delilah," he murmured sweetly, voice like silk.

You turned, wet wipe in hand, barely trying to conceal your smile. All the Georgian heat found home in your cheeks. Pastor Steve tucked his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, pleated and ironed. His watch poked out from beneath the long sleeve of his shirt. The cufflinks had been loosened. You swallowed at the sliver of tan skin exposed.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm happy to do it," you chirped quietly.

You glanced toward the open arched doors. Everyone was still lingering in the freshly mowed yard, loitering on the steps. Pastor Steve took that moment to gaze at you unabashedly, eyes licking over your pale green skirt, the buttoned-up white sweater with just enough room to show your collarbones and the top of your gold cross. Steve suddenly found himself longing to reach over and pop the top button. All he needed was the top of your breasts, the plump fat that cushioned the bottom peak of your cross perfectly.

Steve stepped closer, fingers skating across the smooth wood of the pew. You stiffened, heart thumping in your throat. Heat clung to the nape of your neck and the backs of your knees.

"How have you been, Delilah? You haven't been to see me," Steve noted in an even tone.

You closed your fist around the wet wipe in your hand, sudsing the soap. "I'm alright, sir. I...I been prayin' by myself, every night now."

Steve's lip quirked, though his eyes were down on his feet moving toward you. They clunked loudly against the wooden floorboards. His hands were so big, and you couldn't help but watch the right one make its way across the back of the pew, closer and closer to you.

"No need to call me sir, Delilah. You can call me Steve," he declared, finally lifting his head to gaze down at you. "But just keep that between us."

Amusement lightened his pretty face and twinkled in his eye. A beam of light shot through the stained glass behind you and cast a streak of emerald across his cheek. A thrilled burst settled in your chest at the way the color painted his skin. Green, the color of Hope.

Maybe Pastor Steve really was an angel sent from God. Maybe he was sent here for you, just like he said. A guardian angel, all for you.

Steve came to a stop when the toes of his loafers brushed your Mary Janes.

"O-Okay...Steve."

Steve grinned, sideways and slick. His hand, still on the pew, found the tip of your elbow, clothed in the soft fabric of your cardigan. You twitched, following his line of sight toward the sudden touch. He plucked a nonexistent piece of fuzz from your arm and flicked it toward the floor, returning his gaze to you. You were impossibly flushed and shiny.

"Praying is nice, Delilah. I'm glad you're taking the time to show your gratitude to our Lord. But, don't forget..."

Steve tipped his head again, chasing your gaze. You immediately looked at him, and he smiled at your reactionary obedience.

"...you can always talk to me. Whatever you say, it always stays between us."

You nodded dumbly, tongue fat and throbbing in your mouth. His lips looked as soft as they felt that night in your driveway, when he brought you close and pressed them to your head. You felt on fire, alight by every ray of sunshine the sun had to offer just from that firm press of his mouth on your body.

Steve chuckled, and you blinked harshly to clear the haze in your thoughts.

"Well...us and Him." He pointed toward the ceiling.

It'd been a week, and you had yet to take Pastor Steve up on his offer. All you could do was spin.

"Ah!"

Until the spinning hurt so bad that you collapsed on the barn floor with a thud. You instantly cradled your feet, clawing at the torn and dirtied satin ties around your ankles to free your feet of their pink confines. Your feet were a mangled, ugly mess: deep indigo bruises, bright red blisters and bleeding wounds. You hissed, pushing yourself up to stand, bearing weight only on your heels.

In your bedroom, after a lengthy cold shower where you scrubbed lilac soap over your sweat and dirt-stained skin, you plopped on your scratchy carpet and precariously wrapped bandages around your bleeding feet. You couldn't afford the fancy ointment the other girls had at school, but the balm they used for the cows did the trick enough—it was mostly lard and petroleum, but it helped ease the ache and sting.

Mama came home a few hours later cackling and stumbling around, and you concealed the click of your lock with a noisy cough.

♰ ♰

On Wednesday, you went to church.

Pastor Steve was in the front pew on his knees, hands clasped, head bowed. You paused near the back, respecting his privacy and time with God. You shifted, and the rickety floorboards creaked. Steve's head snapped over his shoulder, and he leapt to his feet at the sight of you.

"Delilah."

You took a step back, a sheepish grin toying on your lips. "I-I can come back, I didn't mean to interrupt—"

"—don't be silly," Steve gushed, waving you over almost too eagerly.

But you were oblivious—a blushing, flustered mess—and flounced over to Steve in your little pink sundress. However, you had a slight skip to your step, a little limp that left you askew, that made Steve frown.

"What can I do for you, Delilah?"

You clasped your hands together behind your back, fingers interlaced. "Well...I-I was hopin'...—you said I could come talk t' you, so..."

Steve's brows arched with delight, eyes twinkling again. "Oh, of course. Here, we'll go to my office."

He spun on his heel and headed toward the door off to the left, which you knew led to a hall and up to an attic office meant for the Pastors and clergymen only—but you'd never been up there before. You took one step forward and paused, glancing toward the pews.

"Shouldn't we...shouldn't we do it here...?"

Steve stopped, his emerald robe fluttering in the breeze, and followed your gesture toward the rows of pews. He smiled at you, a placating, pitiful smile, and placed his hands on his hips.

"God has ears everywhere, Delilah."

You reddened, ducking your head and cowering your shoulders to follow after him, feeling a little scolded and small.

The journey to his office felt like an eternity. You watched your shoes the entire time, catching only a glimpse of the back of Steve’s heels as he took long, bounding strides through the brief corridor. He mounted the staircase at the end of it, and the wooden planks groaned beneath his weight.

He was silent as the two of you entered the attic office. The rotting wooden floor was blanketed with a dark Persian rug, spots faded from the sun seeping through the arched, stained glass window. The walls were wooden, too, and standing in this room suddenly felt like standing in the barn behind your house. But this room was still, stiff with trapped heat, and smelled like Steve.

He sank into the swivel chair behind a sturdy wooden desk, cluttered with stacks of paper and a leather bound bible. Steve linked his fingers together and clasped them over his lap, crossing one leg over the other. It suddenly felt very formal, and you became terribly timid lingering there in the doorway.

“Come in, Delilah,” Steve cooed, beckoning with his hand.

You shuffled forward, easing into a hard wooden chair a few feet from his desk. He smiled once you were seated, and you twisted the end of your skirt around your finger. A wooden cross hung on the wall directly behind his head, above the desk.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

You swallowed, mouth running dry. Your eyes bounced toward the window, admiring the colors of the stained glass and the white cross in the middle of the fragmented pieces. In your periphery, Steve’s head tipped again.

“It’s Mama. She…she…”

Steve leaned forward, reaching out to place two fingers gently atop your bouncing, clothed knee. You stilled instantly, wide eyes snapping toward him. His eyes were soft again, melting into you.

“It’s just us here,” he murmured, voice low and silky smooth.

The sound of it instantly soothed you, and you nodded your agreement. You kept your leg still when he pulled his hand away and returned it to his lap.

“What about your mother, Delilah?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, looking down at your lap. You sought comfort in the cool metal of your cross, fondling the shape between your thumb and knuckle against your chest. Steve watched you all the while, heart thumping hard in his chest.

"She's....drinkin' again."

Steve was quiet for a moment. You broke the skin of your cheek with your teeth, and a metallic taste filled your mouth.

"She drinks a lot, your mother?"

You released the severed skin, eyes flashing toward his black, clothed knees. All your words tasted like blood. Unease sat heavily in your stomach, like maybe you shouldn't be saying this. Maybe Pastor Steve shouldn't know about this. Mama'll be mad.

"She used to," you murmured in a whisper.

Steve tapped his finger against his knuckles, still placed over his lap. You lifted your heel to bounce your leg again, but with one glance toward Steve, placed it back down. He was silent again—he knew there was something you weren't telling him. There was more to this story. It's just us here.

You gazed off at the cross just beyond the peak of Steve's shiny, chestnut hair. "I...I don't feel..."

Steve gave you a moment, but when that flustered sheen began to gather on your cheeks again, and your hand flew to your chest to fondle the cross once more, Steve leaned forward and placed his hand on your knee.

"You don't feel what, Delilah?" That soft voice again. Like melted butter, like mud in the rain.

His hand was so warm against the cotton of your skirt. You could see the blue veins beneath his skin, the callouses on his knuckles.

"I don't feel...safe...when she drinks."

Steve inhaled deeply. When you hung your head with shame, Steve smoothed his gentle grasp on your knee to a full-palmed caress. Every inch of your skin began to buzz at that muted touch. His movements shifted your skirt, causing it to bunch at your thighs. But you let him rub your knee, caress the bare skin that his own ministrations bared to him. It was a man's touch, hot and rough—but Steve was so gentle and delicate.

"Oh," Steve sighed, and your chest filled with a flutter. "You poor thing."

Somehow, his chair had moved closer as he rubbed. Now, his knees brushed yours, the toes of his loafers knocking into your Mary Janes, and you could smell the coffee on his breath. His lips looked soft, wet from his tongue. They were the rosiest shade of pink. A faint collection of dark stubble collected along his jaw.

Your breathing shallowed, and Steve bit back the quirk of his lip at the way your chest rose and fell with struggle. He pulled his touch away, and the wheels of his chair squeaked as he rolled it back toward the desk to open the top drawer. He retrieved a brown, cardboard box, which he propped up with his palm and tore the top off of. In it, Steve revealed an assortments of dark chocolate.

"Here," he soothed, extending the box to you, "it'll make you feel all better."

You brought a slow hand toward the chocolates, glancing toward Steve, apprehension clear in your furrowed brows. But Steve just nodded, a soft grin toying on his mouth, and you plucked a heart shaped candy from the box. He pulled the box back to sit in his lap, and his eyes immediately sought the parted cavern of your mouth, as the chocolate touched your tongue. His throat bobbed with a thick swallow when your tongue shot out to lick a speck of chocolate coating from your lip.

The chocolate was tart and a little bitter, but bursting from its confines came a silky, rich goo that sweetened the sour. A delighted smile touched your mouth, and Steve mirrored it.

"See, isn't that better?"

You nodded. Steve placed the box on the desk, but didn't reach in to take one himself. His fingers interlaced again, and he brought them to his lap.

"Sometimes we have to indulge. Keeps us good," he claimed in an even tone.

Good. Were you good, for taking the chocolate? Did Steve think you were good? Did God? All you wanted was to be good.

All you could do was nod, eyes ducking back down to your knees. Steve sighed again, and this time when he reached out, he took your hand. Your fingers were stiff in his soft palm, eyes wide on your hands touching. Your stomach throbbed, chest aching. He was being so nice.

"Thank you for sharing with me, Delilah. Know you can talk to me at any time."

You nodded again, fingers twitching in his hold. Steve chuckled, closing his palm around your hand and giving it a little squeeze. A gasp slipped from your mouth, and you immediately burned at your own mistake. Just as an apology formed behind your teeth, Steve let go.

"Want a ride home?"

♰ ♰

In church, Steve was godlike. He was massive, an otherworldly figure that seemed to burn your eyes if you looked too long. But in the front seat of his BMW, Steve was just a man. A handsome man with a long nose bridge, and high cheekbones; a man with hair that turned copper in the sun, and lips that looked like pillows.

The windows were all the way down, and the stereo was off. You perched in his passenger seat like an angel, hands delicately clasped in your lap, and Steve glanced at you constantly. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other dangling in the window. The glass face of his watch caught beams of the sun and blinded you. The car smelled like him, and your heart hammered at the scent of it.

"God, I don't think I'll ever get used to this heat," Steve huffed, swiping his palm across his sticky forehead.

You smiled down at your lap. "Takes a couple years."

He looked at you sideways. "Yeah? You lived here your whole life, though, huh?"

You nodded, picking at the skin around your nail. "Yeah. It was hard to leave for school, but...I love dancin' too much to stick around here."

Steve glanced at your feet, and remembered what they looked like wrapped in tattered pink satin.

"You really are a beautiful dancer. God gave you the grace of an angel."

A giggle burst through you. Steve straightened at the sound, head snapping over to peer at you.

"That's real kind a' you, but...I-I don't think so," you protested meekly.

"Well, we have a line of communication, God and me," Steve declared, and his voice took on the echoing bellow it has when he preaches.

He took a turn down the dirt road toward your house. You could see the shape of it in the distance.

"You know what He tells me, Delilah?"

You turned to Pastor Steve with the sun in your cheeks again, blinking slowly. "What?"

The car slowed right before the gravel drive of your house, and Steve put his foot on the brake pedal to turn his full attention to you. His head cocked like it always does, those hazel eyes dragging over the shape of you in his passenger seat.

"He told me to pray every night for you," Steve murmured, like he was sharing a secret you weren't supposed to know. "God told me you were special, Delilah Anne, and now I think my prayers are comin' true."

Your breath hitched, and for once, Steve let a sly smile touch his mouth. He devoured your full-bodied reaction like a man starved, and as you boiled with flustered nerves, and squirmed against the leather of his seat, Steve popped the locks.

"You be safe now."

♰ ♰

You writhed around in your sticky sheets that night, playing Pastor Steve's voice on a loop in your head. ...now I think my prayers are comin' true.

How could this man have prayed for you? How could you be so special to him? The more you thought about it, the more nonsensical it became. As ridiculous as it sounded, you were truly starting to believe that God sent him here for you. What were the odds that he appeared right when you returned home from school? That he took such a liking to you?

God was the only answer.

You saw him a few days later at the community pool. A dirtied, leaf-infested, pathetic excuse for a pool—but people flocked to it when the heat was too unbearable to stay at home, even with all the fans on.

You set out with a yellow bikini hidden beneath a white sundress, blistered and bruised feet slipped into a pair of sandals. A towel over your shoulder and sunscreen in your hand, you trudged down the dirt road toward town, and made it to the pool just in time to find nearly all the lounge chairs taken by sunbathing teens and mothers in bathing suits half a size too small.

The gate squealed as it opened, and clanged shut behind you as you shuffled across the scathing pavement toward a lone chair in the corner. You glanced around, watching for prying eyes as you toyed with the hem of your sundress, but all eyes were on the sky or the dirty water filled with giggly kids. You yanked the dress over your head and tossed it on the pavement, delicately draping yourself over the plastic chair.

You baked in the sun, feeling its heat gather in your cheeks. The nape of your neck grew damp against the chair, the backs of your thighs collecting slick sweat. You shifted and squirmed, both irritated by the stinging sun and pleased by its warmth.

When you pushed off to rotate onto your stomach after what felt like an eternity on your back, you fell short at the sight of someone just beyond the gate. Sitting in the yellowed grass against the trunk of a rotting oak tree, wearing a pair of jeans and a blue button down, was Pastor Steve.

You stood there a moment, watching him cock his. Though his eyes were concealed behind a pair of black shades, you knew where they were fixated—on you. His hands were lying limply in his lap, legs kicked out and crossed at the ankles. No book in sight, no picnic basket or friend to keep him company. But there he was, watching the pool. Watching you.

A stampede ran ramped in your chest, and swallowing grew difficult as you reached for your crumpled dress. You were half naked and exposed, but even from across the pavement and beyond the gate, Steve could spot your gold cross glinting in the blazing sun. Your hand flew to fondle it as it habitually did, and Steve smiled fondly.

Your walk along the pavement was slow—head hung low, shoulders meekly pinched, but legs moving so swiftly it seemed more like you were floating. Steve appreciated a walk like that. So graceful, so languid, and smooth. It was only as you began your journey along the grass, dress billowing in the breeze and hiding your yellow bikini once more, that Steve noticed your feet.

The consequence of such strict and demanding elegance, the bloody side effect of beauty.

“Hi,” you chirped, coming to a stop at his feet.

Steve pushed his sunglasses to the crown of his head. They parted his hair, pulling the silky locks away from his head to reveal a patch of ivory skin.

“Hi, Delilah. It’s nice to see you again.”

Your sandals were hooked between two fingers, dangling at your side; a terry cloth towel slung over your shoulder. Steve tipped his head again to admire you, letting his eyes roam free over your form. You grew hotter than sunbeams under his stare.

“I-I didn’t know you came here,” you murmured sweetly.

Steve shrugged, shoulders wide and hands still tucked neatly in his lap. The top of his button down was open for ventilation, and you could see the rope of silver chain resting against a patch of dark, thick hair. You were suddenly parched.

“Just enjoying the scenery.”

His eyes glinted when he said that, squinted against the sun and narrowed amusedly. You flushed, ducking down to focus your gaze on your aching feet. Steve followed your line of sight, reaching out to tap your toes. They twitched at his touch.

“What happened there?” he asked.

Your chest tightened with humiliation and shame, and your hands disappeared behind your back. “Oh, um…s’ just from my dancin’ shoes.”

Steve’s brows furrowed, and your toes curled toward the soil to hide them from him. He tore his eyes away, tipping his head back toward you with a pout smeared on his face.

“Are they supposed to hurt you like that?”

You giggled, the apples of your cheeks firm and colorfully warm. “Can barely feel it once I start. The girls at school have fancy shoes, and I hear those hurt just as bad.”

Steve hummed, nodding his head in understanding. His fingers slipped into his hair, pushing his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. He looked so handsome.

“But you’re such a beautiful dancer.” He always said that.

You grinned sheepishly, squeezing your squeezing your fingers together behind your back. “Thank you…Steve,” you murmured.

Pastor Steve smiled, handsome and half-cocked. “Now you go on and finish tanning, enjoy your day. I’ll see you soon, Delilah.”

He rose to his feet, tall and thin, and shot you another sweet smile before staggering toward the curb. You lingered in the shade and watched him go, waving when he appeared in front seat. He didn’t wave back, but you could see his grin as he drove away.

♰ ♰

Two days later, you were in the barn again, twirling in your ratty shoes and collecting wind in your arms. Your leaps were quiet, landing like a feather with a quiet tap of your toes. Through your twirls, you could’ve sworn you saw Steve between the slats of wood. But you were certain it was in your mind, overtaken by his low voice and handsome face.

You spun and twirled and leapt all day, until the sky turned to an ashen rose, and then sun disappeared behind the tree line. You threw open the door of the barn and stepped into the cool.

Something pink gleamed near the screen door on the porch. You squinted, quickening your pace to reach the house. When you got there, you paused at the welcome mat.

There they sat: a pair of brand new pointe shoes made of pale pink silk.

They were just your size.

♰ ♰

[inubaki]

Soundless Confession

-part 3 -it gets steamy from here-

Lucifer felt Adam’s mouth upon his neck. His nips slowly evolving into lingering presses that taunted something sinful through his mind. He should pull away. Should force himself back from those exploring lips as he had train himself to. But something in Adam’s method was arousing him both curiously and physically. The softness of those cherry lips, the nicking pressure of his teeth to the heat of his tongue growing bolder and braver with each their encounters. Below his ear Adam nipped at his lobe before raising his hand to cradle Lucifer’s face. Trapping Lucifer in a mock embrace before suddenly launching onto the angel’s neck, biting down hard enough to bruise.

Lucifer jerked with a shuddered gasp, but Adam still held firm. Pulling down the fabric of Lucifer’s robes with his other hand and nipping above his collar bone. “Pwetty…..” Adam breathed against his skin. “Luci…”

That did it. Lucifer felt his eyes widen before a dark look entered his expression. He fisted Adam's hair to bring him closer, making him look up in surprise. Lucifer pulled a little, not enough to hurt but enough where Adam blushed a pretty red. "Oh, Adam…you have no idea what you've released…" And then he bit Adam on the neck. Hard. The First Man, not expecting Lucifer to be so bold since he had never dine something so bold. Adam allowed Lucifer to climb him until the angel was straddling his waist and pinning him to the ground. Luci had the most….predatory look on his face that Adam had ever known. It made him shiver and watch whay his angel would do to him.

The terror Lucifer had long expected when unveiling himself became unraveled. For it wasn’t Adam’s fear that rose to meet his gaze but a look of triumphant. “Luci….” A tigress never allowed the mating till the males had proven themselves. And to this, Adam pulled Lucifer down by the fabric of his robes and returned his bite with a possessive growl. Determined to leave his mark back onto the only being that had ever made him alive.

Lucifer returned the growl to bite back as well, one hand fisting Adam's hair and the other holding Adam's waist in a possessive grip. He would more than likely be leaving bruises on Adam and vice-versa. When they both released each other, they stared into eachother's eyes, both of them panting. And then Adam let out a moan as Lucifer grabbed a hold of his dick. He pumped it, allowing his own arousal to show through his robe. Adam had no idea he could feel pleasure like this but it was so surreal. Lucifer smirked as he squeezed it before biting Adam's other neck to leave his mark on both sides.

"Mine. You belong to me." Lucifer growled between clamped teeth. He let go and began biting Adam down his neck until he got to his chest. Licking his lips and smirking up at Adam he sucked in a sensitive nipple. Adam howled as he felt teeth there. Lucifer still made sure he paid attention to Adam's manhood.

For as long as Adam had first dreamed, there had been a lingering of his deeper significance. His purpose delivered to him like gentle breezes to his ears, filled with wordless promise. But, they were only dreams. Only flittering pretty things that lost more of their charm little by little as his garden felt smaller and smaller. Promises lost their weight but the emptiness kept him obedient to their orders. His small word lost its wonder till a duckling lead him here. Lucifer who kept his promises. Who gave him a voice beyond just that of the garden. Stole Adam’s most sacred duty when he breathed life into a name that only a dream knew. “Adam…”.

He chocked with surprise as his body became utterly pinned down by the angel above him. The attention to his nipples shot tingles down his spine, all perceived expectation evaporating as pleasure encased him from all sides. At least he knew what his nipples were for now… “Luci—!!” His limited vocabulary failed him as his virgin body could only jerk against Lucifer’s onslaught. Praying for more, with only a vague understanding of what that would entail. “Please…!”

Lucifer chuckled at Adam's desperate and adorable display. He was writhing under him and Lucifer hadn't even begun prepping him for their mating. He slid further down, leaving Adam's nipples raw and red from how much the angel abused them. He bit and nipped down his stomach until he came to the First Man's dick and licked a long strip up to the head. If it wasn't for Lucifer's angelic strength, he would've been bucked off by Adam. Luckily, Lucifer had no trouble holding down hips as he deep throated Adam, softly dragging teeth over sensitive flesh.

Adam shook and cried out in pleasure as he felt a hot wet mouth on his long member. He had no idea you could do that but he loved that you could.

"Ah! Ah! Please!" Adam begged, hoping to convey that he wanted more. Lucifer obliged him greatly.

*Lucifer chuckled darkly at the sound of Adam crying but nodding to what he said. Lucifer spread his thighs wide watching Adam bite his lip as the angel examined his rosebud, letting his tongue roll out to tease the puckered hole. Adam squirmed and writhed as something hot and long entered inside him, working Adam into a frenzy. Lucifer made sure to hold the base of Adam's dick so he couldn't release anything more then a few droplets of pre-cum.

Adam felt himself crying from the overstimulation of what he was feeling. Lucifer was enjoying the taste of being inside Adam.*

The entirety of Adam’s body seized with a compulsive cry. Sensations entirely unknown to him made thinking difficult. He didn’t notice the shroud of Lucifer’s wings encasing around them in simmering blues. Nor the possessive tipping of magic rippled through Lucifer’s fingertips; relinquishing any discomfort Lucifer’s roughness might inflict. As Adam was one that had never known physical pain before. Something to revisit later. And Lucifer WOULD visit again.

Adam tried to sit up by his elbows, desperate to see him. But the wiggling of Lucifer’s tongue suddenly seemed to expand. Filling his virgin ass with the reach far beyond what his mind could handle. Again, Lucifer’s cruel hand tightened hard enough to deny Adam his first orgasm for the second time.

“No!! No!! Luci—“ Adam cried. Flushed in rage and sexual stimulation, Adam’s body screamed for something he didn’t understand but desperately wanted to reach. Cruelly, his angel laughed, with a half hearted stoke to his cock like a back handed apology. Pre-cum fall in ripples, all of which Lucifer reused to coat his fingers. His magic would ensure it remained painless. But tomorrow could be a different story. “Poor lamb..” Lucifer cooed. Sticking up his tongue with a teasing grin. His smile only grew when he dodged a sweet kick from Adam. Catching it by the heel and swinging over his shoulder. “Bad boys don’t get rewarded, Addie…”

Adam whimpered as Lucifer slapped his thigh twice as a punishment. "Perhaps I should just leave here…begging for something you don't quite understand." Adam's eyes widened, tears pricking his eyes as he shook his head. "No! No! I good! Good!"

Lucifer chuckled meanly as he lined his dick up with the winking wet rosebud. The Archangel grabbed the other ankle and placed it on his shoulder as he growled. "Get ready, Addie…this is when we mate!" A little magic around Adam's dick will keep him from spilling his seed.

Mate…. Something in Adam’s eyes seemed to dilate at the term. Confirming to Lucifer exactly what his sibling had been conspiring in Adam’s design. A rush of rage gripped his heart in thorns at the sheer audacity of their exasperations. To leave his human disabled and disposed to seed their future endeavors. With no mind or voice to protest. A trail of blood sipped down his chin as Lucifer bit his lip to muffle his own snarl. “Yes, Addy. That’s what you are. My mate. Only mine—-“ he ended in a hiss as his cock head kissed Adam’s greedy opening. Rocking his hips explicitly as Adam always mewled in need. So pretty even half crazed in lust in such pretty shades of red. Lucifer rocked again, catching Adam’s opening with the slightest pressure of his cock. “But ONLY if you say yes. Pick. Me. Only. Me” he hissed with a restraint he didn’t feel truly feel. Those bastards may be willing to strip Adam of choice, but he wasn’t.

—-

a small I rp did with @libby-for-life! Hopefully I edited out some mistakes. I hope to draw something from it later.

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[forlorn-crows]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

im not usually good with these, but i can share some of the ones ive really enjoyed writing:

Learning to Swim

my first in depth gill fic; just something about rain being obsessed with himself and mountain being so loving, attentive, and zoned in on rain's pleasure . . . it was after a period of writing where nothing felt "right," and i think this fic helped me tap back in to my writing voice. i wanted to showcase the emotions of teaching moments; i dont think we get to see that too often, let alone the 'clumsiness' and hesitation of them.

2. this ficlet featuring transmasc cirrus & aether

i dont think very many people read this one. but i love the idea of a magick strap where the user can feel everything while in a hot, gender affirming scene. i dont see very often that we 'trans' any of the ghoulettes, and i love the dynamic cirrus and aether have, so i thought they'd fit well here. something about he/him cirrus feels right to me, and nice to explore.

3. tough love

void's [@divine-misfortune's] fault (affectionate). we have so many discussions about quintosis and hypno kink that i love, and this was borne from one of them. omega's backwards way of showing his love, while also getting to Fuck with zephyr. going against their will to do something for their benefit, even though you know they'll wake up later and curse out omega for doing it.

4. mushy may 2024 day 5: animals

hank the raccoon and juniper the cat, two of my beloved animal OCs. theyre just fun to write about, and have a simple, yet fun love for each other. mountain, of course, is always caught in the middle.

5. Yours In The End

a fic meant really to channel negative feelings into. im still feeling a lot of the emotions that went into writing this. but also the dynamic of dew and mountain and aether's relationship after Everything Happened is meaningful in so many ways to me. the way they have to navigate a scary new world, and all they have is each other.

6. this big boy quintosis sandwich ficlet

to be honest its one of my own fics i go back and re-read all the time. i just like mountain zonked and helpless between two beefy, daddy quint ghouls, okay?

7. mushy may 2023 day 8: first time

another one of my own fics i go back to. the pause they have before falling into one another; you just know theyve danced around each other for a hot minute. but they're both new, freshly summoned. they have to figure out their own bodies, let alone who and how they want to share them with. but its just . . . easy for them to make that jump. and i do enjoy little dick mountain from time to time.

8. this terzomega ficlet

the one and only time ive written these two, though i dont know why that is. but this one i had fun with the scene setting and action descriptions, i felt like i had a clear image in my mind's eye and really put it down on paper. i really love omega and terzo's dynamic too, so that made it an enjoyable writing session. this was shortly after JHKM came out, so i snuck a reference to the line "get on your knees and start prayin'" in there.

you'll notice Lady of the Lake is not on this list, because all i did was cry about it for months, and then beat myself up to finish it for the first day of kinktober '23. it was not necessarily fun to write, but the concept itself i enjoyed, lmao

xx

@iamthecomet, @waywardsamaritan, @askingforthesun, @wrathofrats, and @ghoul-slime id be interested to know some of the fics you'd put on your own lists!

[melmonquartelz]

hii omg im glad ur active again! did u watch helluva boss also? if so, thoughts?? i love millie and mox sm theyre getting plushiess

MILLIE AND MOXXIE ARE GETTIN' PLUSHIES??? OMG WHERE

BUT YES!! I also watch Helluva Boss and I'm SOOO NOT READY FOR THE NEXT EPISODE.. Stolas, Fizzy and Millie have to be my fav from the show LOL

I THINK IT'S GOOD, sometimes the episodes can feel a bit off or the writing feels fast but I still enjoy the show regardless! Hoping and prayin' we eventually get a Millie and/or Luna episode 💔Let my girls have a bit of attention please 💔

(ALSO HOPING BEE WILL HAVE ANOTHER EP, prolly not but YK... I've had Cotton Candy stuck in my head for DAYSSS)

[tangytiramisu]

for the karaoke event can i have the stardust crusaders with are you satisfied by marina?

Sure thing! I hope you like them! 😁

(JJBA) Karaoke Event 🎤- Reader Sings “Are You Satisfied?” by Marina and the Diamonds [Stardust Crusaders]

Karaoke Event is currently closed

Warnings: Slight angst; song talks about feeling pressured by expectations, loneliness, and a mention of wanting to die.

Jotaro Kujo

He broodingly waits for the song to start playing and it's honestly hard to tell how he's feeling since he looks perpetually pissed, but in actuality deep down he's slightly intrigued by what you may sing.

He watches you as you sing, not paying too much attention to the lyrics at first, but at some point he subconsciously notices them.

“People like to tell you what you’re gonna be it’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see, And I don’t give a damn if you don’t believe”

You see his eyes sharpen in realization. This is how he feels about authority. Especially the teachers at school.

“It’s my business if I feel the need to smoke and drink and sway” Oof, he felt that.

He continues to watch you, but you can swear you see his foot tapping with the beat every so often, though he does stop when you sing “It’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die.”

When you’re finished, he claps unenthusiastically, but deep down, he appreciates the song, even if pop isn’t his favorite genre.

Noriaki Kakyoin

Like Jotaro, he's curious about what you will sing as well and intently watches you sing the intro.

"I was pulling out my hair, The day I got the deal chemically calm, Was I meant to feel happy that my life, Was just about to change?"

He finds the lyrics interesting and is looking forward to seeing the direction the song will take.

When the lively music starts he looks over at Pol and Joseph who are grooving with the beat and joins them by lightly swaying his shoulders, watching you with a subtle yet encouraging smile.

He's really liking the lively beat and lyrics. To him this song exudes rebelliousness and he appreciates it when people stick to what they believe.

He eventually gets a thoughtful expression on his face as he continues to listen to you sing, though you can see his eyes widen when you sing “It’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die.” He immediately gets flashbacks of his loneliness as a young boy.

His perception of the song changes slowly with the lyrics. It’s about someone who is truly suffering due to the pressure of society’s expectations of them. In a way, he relates; he’s felt like an outcast throughout his life until he met his current friends. Is there a deeper meaning behind why you chose this song?

Claps for you when you’re done, telling you that it was a good song. He’s interested in the reason behind your choice, regardless of whether you relate to it or you simply enjoy the song, though if you relate, he makes sure you know that he has your back.

Jean Pierre Polnareff

He's in his element honestly. He loves karaoke

He looks a bit surprised by the intro but immediately starts jamming out to the song with the music begins.

He’s sort of confused about the lyrics at first; “One life pretending to be the cat who got the cream, Oh everybody said “Marina is a dreamer””, though his eyes immediately widen in realization when you sing “Are you satisfied with an average life?”

As the song goes on his demeanor noticeably mellows out as he listens, despite still lightly grooving to the beat. So this song is about desiring more in life? Simply being yourself?

Though when you get to “It’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die” he exchanges a horrified glance with Joseph. Now he’s concerned.

He grows even more concerned by “Sad in this life, unsatisfied, prayin’”.

He still claps and cheers when you’re done, but immediately asks you if you’re ok afterwards. He’s relieved when you say yes, but if you tell him that you relate to this song, expect a huge bear hug.

Muhammad Avdol

He’s mellow about the whole thing, watching with a polite smile when you start singing.

He’s surprised when the music starts but you can tell he finds it pleasant as soon as he starts smiling again.

Throughout the song, he seems the most calm, not showing a significantly drastic shift in emotion. Instead he sits back and watches, though he still pays attention to the lyrics.

This is an interesting song to him; it has a cheerful tune, but the lyrics convey a sense of loneliness. The narrator is most likely a young adult finding their own way through life, and if you are one yourself, he thinks he can pinpoint why you’d like this song.

When you sing the previously mentioned lyric about death, he does blink in surprise though, but remains chill as a cucumber.

He smiles and claps for you when you’re done, telling you that you did well, which you did :)

Joseph Joestar

He's grinning excitedly like a kid in a candy shop when the music plays and he and Polnareff are already swaying.

Though you notice that smile slowly fade as the song goes on. It seems like he caught onto the lyrics.

He’s a boomer so he’s confused. Why would anyone make a song sound so cheerful, only to smack you in the face with sad lyrics?

Though when he thinks about the song he sorta gets it. It’s not fun being forced to adhere to expectations that you don’t want to meet.

Definitely exchanges a concerned glance with Polnareff when the lyric “It’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die”.

Despite this, he doesn’t want to kill the vibe, so he cheers loudly for you to show support for you, congratulating you and telling you that you have great music choice. He may not outright ask why you chose the song, but his enthusiasm is enough to cheer anyone up.

[fixfoxnox]

Sito songs bc I want attention but anon bc im shy

Till forever falls apart - ashe, finneas

Would you be so kind - dodie

An unhealthy obsession - the Blake Robinson synthetic orchestra

Breakeven - the script

Replaced - american authors

Left behind - reinaeiry

Until it doesn't hurt - mother mother

Body of years - mother mother

Hello shy anon, welcome in and thank you for the offer of SiTO songs we love SiTO songs here

LITERALLY SCREAMING ABOUT WOULD YOU BE SO KIND BY DODIE ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS A MILLION HEARTS TO YOU HOLY MOLY

CAUSE IT CAN BE BOTH CUTE AND ANGST IN THE CONTEXT OF SITO THE DUALITY OF IT AH

AND BREAKEVEN BY THE SCRIPT IS SUCH A GOOD ANGSTY CHOICE TOO IM SOBBING OVER THIS ANON

"I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing

Just prayin' to a God that I don't believe in

'Cause I got time while she got freedom

'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break

No it don't break, no it don't break even, no"

LIKE THIS IS ROACH REALIZING THAT NOT ONLY DOES SIMON NOT REMEMBER LIKE HE DOES, BUT THIS SIMON FULLY HAS SOMEONE ELSE AND IS COMPLETELY HAPPY IN THAT RELATIONSHIP

"Cause I got time while she got freedom"

Roach has to remember the past while Ghost gets to live his life free of the burden of those memories. And Roach would obviously never wish what he is going through on Simon, but you know it has to piss him off a little that he still remembers but everyone else gets to forget.

AH 💙💙💙

[wholestory]

who would he pray to?  bill wants to answer her question seriously but he doesn't really have the means. his attention gets caught by the way the sun comes through the stain glass, how it changes as the clouds move around in the sky behind it.  it’s so quiet in the church that even their measured whispering feels blasphemously loud.  he itches at his jaw and badly wants a cigarette.

this is true: “ i got this nice picture, " he measures out an estimate of its size with his fingers and thumbs. " of chuck berry. i keep it taped up on the mirror where ever i set up shop, blow him a kiss before i leave the dressing room for a show. think that's as close as i get to prayin' these days. “

meme / @d1c4af

[moondonky]

Bing chilling

What they fight is that people don't really want to fight anymore, would rather chill in defense mode, try to make money or sum shit even thats getting pointless, wars have to be wanted to be waged.. war is forced on us by them,, and we all relate and like each other...

Effin millenial, y not, on a real note, my vent I vent through.. I actually be kinda quiet, been prayin alot, just staying patient at all costs, just waiting, just sitting and thinking, calculating, lightly entertaining myself.. lightly feeding myself, just pacing in thought, all my energy focused on one thing right now, all my attention on, all I think about, I don't really care about anything else right now..

[fromanartistsheart2]

Inspired by "Looking For Myself" by Burden

*Disclaimer: at the time I started writing this song, I hadn't seen my kids n 42 days.*

I made it out and I am all right

I ain't been back to my ex in almost 6 long years

I just feel bad about it cause my kids got sent back there

Cause my ex never gave me nothing but scars and bruises

Yea I left him went to a dv shelter

There ain't been one single time that I needed him, I should mention

Even though I've tried , my kids still went back to the tension

They're calling me bad mom, but he don't even get attention

I don't mean to be offensive but it's been 42 days since I seen them

Most of the time don't wanna be alone

I'm checking out of this world and I'm into my phone

It's true that u don't miss no one until they're gone,

until they're really gone

I've been lookin for myself

In these poems and song lyrics I write

I've been lookin for myself

U know I'll b back here tomorrow

Wish these old notebooks and empty ink pens

Could tell u stories I've written (yeah)

PTSD, panic attacks

All got some story that they serve

And I'm just tryna b a part of their lives

Y does everything I do he just does what he wants?

I'm just tryna b a part of their lives

Y does everything I do he just does what he wants?

People find it hard to understand me

Do holidays with friends called family

Childhood full of temp mommies

Readin' books and negativity

Hard times made me grow up fast

I left at 18, my freedom at last

Worked real hard to put behind me my past

Doin' what it took so that I survived

I had a dream that I sold my art

And I would b as big as my idol

Dreaming to live, living to dream

Prayin' for change w/ no one to listen

I remember my whole life bein' told

That I'd never make it and I'd always be broke

Looks like I got the very last laugh

It looks like my life ain't no longer a joke

We lived in a small place

Everybody strugglin' where I was raised

They're stuck in old ways

People'll do anything legal to pay bills, damn

Got me worrying bout my family cause

God ain't watched over and protected my kids from evil

I've been lookin' for myself

In these poems and song lyrics I write

I've been lookin for myself

U know I'll b back here tomorrow

Wish these old notebooks and empty ink pens

Could tell u stories I've written (yeah)

PTSD, panic attacks

All got some story that they serve

And I'm just tryna b a part of my children's lives

Y does everything I do he just does what he wants?

I'm just tryna b a part of my children's lives

Y does everything I do he just does what he wants?

(He wants)

© From A Mother's 💔

[groovetrill]

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Can't get enough, no, I can't get enough

Took another route, throw another, ended up [?]

Had a gat in my hand, but I didn't wanna be that man

Look in the mirror, couldn't see that man

Pick up the pen, never stick up to men

Only pick up the stick if I need to defend

If I did it back then, might've dropped dead

Know a nigga do a lot 'cause he a hothead

I took a ride through my city the other day

Wonder what would have happened if it all went the other way

Jump in the whip, now I reminisce on the days when I was runnin' 'round the Ave

Could've never imagined the way that my life would have turned out and all of the things that I have

I ain't talkin' material, talkin' about my material

This shit that I'm writin', the shit that I been through

I went through the worst, but I made it out

Like the Alpha Omega, to show me which way it could go, yeah, he laid it out

Instead of just sittin' on a beach, I'm reconnectin' with the streets

It wasn't payin' attention, I was prayin' for a cent

No need to mention my attention to detail

Homie, we will prevail

Lot of motherfuckers wanna wake up every day

Then they murder their own, but they know it's another way

Fuck all the violence and drugs in communities

This song right here is immunity

They call it the trap, 'cause they trapped

And they take our money, then they don't give it back to us

Black man can't even get himself a bachelor

Dropped out of school then he picked up a spatula

'Cause he never had a good role model, just a hood role model

Now I know that's the old model, we breakin' that cycle

Think I see the finish line, got a vision now, don't diminish mine

Lot of brothers in the hood doin' good and I know I see it all the time

But they only wanna push all the drugs and all the crime on Channel 9

Fuck all that falsely, this shit right here for my people

People that strugglin', people work hard as they can, but still don't feel equal

Trust me, I know

I been here before

Trust me, I know

That feelin' don't ever go

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

Every day wake up, every day wake up, every day wake up

[mindflayr]

her sadness seems... genuine? like she was actually interested. she's been flirting all night - it's an element of her job, really, and the attention seems to fuel her. the disappointment disappears quickly. " the good ones are always taken, " she laughs. " you're very sweet. ' chivalrous ' is better than i usually get, friend. "

" sorry if i've put you off, " psyche nods, continuing unembarrassed. " drink's are on the house. i'm just prayin' your sweetheart doesn't pay me a visit now. "

flush settles across his cheeks, darkening his violet face. he chokes on his drink, coughing and sputtering between forcing his words past his throat. silvery eyes are bug - like in their wideness. something has gotten quite lost in translation here.

❝ oh, no! that's not what i- i mean, you're very beautiful, but- it isn't you, per se, it's just- ❞ nymven has to force himself to breathe as he offers her a sheepish grin.

❝ sorry. what i mean to say is, you're lovely, but to, ah, flirt was never my intent. i'm spoken for, you see, i just try to be chivalrous. ❞

awkward, but earnest, he leans in to press a swift, chaste kiss to her cheek.

❝ i hope that suffices. ❞

[funeral-grayy]

@ my worst

you’re prayin’ im the one but maybe i’m a curse

it was one am when you heard light tapping on your window. when you didn’t immediately get up, the tapping only became more louder and insistent. you knew who it was and why they were here and that was the exact reason you were hesitant to leave the comfort of your bed. dabi had forgotten your date earlier in the night and he was more than likely here to attempt at making it up to you. but god, you were so sick of this push and pull game he was playing with you. the tapping quickly turned into loud banging and you finally jumped out of bed and opened the window.

“what the fuck do you want, dabi?” you asked, annoyance evident in your voice. the smirk on his face told you he wasn’t going to take you seriously. sitting down in your computer chair, he started to unlace his boots, leading you to believe he would be staying. there was no point in trying to make him leave, so you got back into bed. you huffed in annoyance and rolled over, your back facing him now. 

“oh cmon doll, don’t be like that” you heard him say, much closer to you now. you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up the cold shoulder, dabi was very persistent when you attempted to ignore him. you felt the bed dip, then a pair of arms grab you around the waist, pulling you until you were flush to his chest. his nose nudged the side of your neck, small kisses placed here and there in an attempt to gain your attention. “I’m sorry baby, you know i am’’ he tried convincing you but you weren’t stupid. this wasn’t something new, it was a constant pattern with him. him fucking up, coming to say sorry, fucking you and then doing it all over again. but for whatever reason you could never break it off for good, because for whatever reason you had fallen in love with the blue flamed villain. you were fucking niave, thinking you could fix him when all he did was push you away anytime you showed him an ounce of compassion. 

“dabi…” his name left your lips as a timid whisper. god, the way you said his name always did things to him. sighing he rested his forehead on your bare shoulder and thats when you felt it. warm and sticky. jolting up, you turned to face him and thats when you noticed that a few of his staples had been busted open. ignoring your concerned look, dabi sat up as well. 

“you sound so fucking beauitful when you say my name” reaching forward, he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. he knew you were about to fuss over him and shower him in affection. he should have known better than to come here injured. he didn’t want to see your loving gaze or feel your gentle touches. he didn’t deserve any of it, not from you, not from anyone. but he didn’t even attempt to put up a fight when you led him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. he didn’t push you away when you started to dab his wound. his eyes shut as you dressed his wounds, not wanting to risk seeing the pity in your eyes. he could handle it from anyone else but not you. finally done, you cupped his cheek with your hands and placed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“dont.” he pushed your hands off his face, the word stung. you knew what he was doing, he always did this. any form of affection and he immediately bolted, cooking up some reason why he needed to leave but you weren’t having it this time.

 “why won’t you let me love you?” it was like time stood still, neither of you moving as you asked the question that would more than likely ruin everything. dabi’s eyes widened and quickly filled with anger. why the fuck did you have to ask that? why did you have to love him? you could see how at war with himself he was, so many emotions swimming behind his eyes. anger, confusion, hope. jumping to his feet, he began to pace the bathroom. why were you trying to fix him? this was just making it worse. his hands frustratedly grasped at his hair and pulled, a sound of anguish leaving his throat.

“you dont know what you’re saying. could you love me at my worst? after i’ve slaughtered innocent people? burned them alive? could you love me then?” he all but yelled in your face. he let out a humorless laugh. he knew better than to get involved with you, he knew things would end up this way. nothing ever stayed simple, feelings always got involved and he was a fool to think this would be any different. he couldn’t give you what you wanted, no matter how much he tried, he was far too damaged. no matter how much he loved you, he’d never say it. he hated that he showed you all his scars, showed you his vulnerable side because you accepted him so blindly. a gentle touch to his arm broke him from his trance.

“lets go to bed” and that was it, that was all you said as you took his hand in yours and led him back into your bedroom. he said nothing as he watched you unbutton his shirt, nothing as you helped him out of his pants. you were trying to be as gentle as possible as to not scare him off. you knew you had crossed a major line and scared him. getting into bed, you pulled him down next to you, placing his arm around your waist. you could pretend he didn’t yell at you, you could pretend like nothing had happened. you couldn’t lose him, not now. finally the limp arm that had been placed on your waist, tightened. he held you so close and so tight, like he was afraid you’d leave if he didn’t.

the air in the room felt thick, everything was tense, both of you afraid to make the wrong move. tucking your head under his chin, you closed your eyes and placed a gentle kiss to his chest. when he didn’t push you away or retract, you continued your kisses up his neck. your hands found his face and you pulled him down to meet your lips. he didn’t hesitate in kissing you back, his lips pushing harder against yours. he wanted to devour you, he wanted to be selfish tonight and claim you as his. rolling you onto your back, he hovered over you, his gaze was so intense but you couldn't look away. he dove right back  in and kissed you with so much passion it made you dizzy. his hands left a trail of heat as he stripped you of your clothes. the way his hands danced over your skin, so precise and so gentle that you had to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. he’d never touched you this way before, it was always hard and rough. tonight he took his time, memorizing every dip and curve of your body. he kissed the insides of your thighs, kissed just above your pussy, ignoring the needy whine you let out. he slowly parted your glistening folds, fingers becoming soaked with your essence. 

“eyes on me, sweetheart.” he said as he eased two fingers into your needy hole. the moan you let out was sinful. slowly he pumped his fingers in and out of you, all while maintaining eye contact with you. he wanted to see every single reaction, hear every single whine and moan. tonight was about you, the outside world didn’t exist. tonight he could pretend everything was alright. adding another finger, he could feel your walls tighten around him, warning him of your impending orgasm. leaning his cheek against your thigh, his thumb started to rub tight circles onto your clit. “i can feel you tightenin’, cum for me. fucking cum on my fingers.” his voice was an octave lower and laced with arousal. he’d never wanted you so badly. his fingers spet up and thumb pressed harder to your clit. both hands found solace in his hair, tugging while you gushed all over his fingers. cumming with a silent scream. he worked you through your orgasm, fingers slowing as you came down from your high.

“fuck, i need you so bad. i need you so fucking bad.” he sounded feral at this point. standinig up, he rushed to undress, discarding his boxer briefs into the pile at the end of your bed. he crawls back over you and cradles your face in his hands, dipping down to place gentle kisses over your face. the action completely different from how he was acting only 10 seconds ago. grasping the base of his cock, he runs the flushed tip through your folds, groaning at how soaked you are. 

“please” you whisper as he rests his forehead on yours. you can tell he’s battling with himself but you refuse to acknowledge it, wanting to bask in his gentleness. slowly, so slowly he sinks into you. it’s so much different from any other time you’ve had sex. he’s savouring the feeling of you, of being inside and close to you. once he’s bottomed out, he stills for a second. he leans back a bit so he can see your face, watching how tender you look, so full of love. his heart aches at the sight. he slowly pulls out, only to snap right back in, setting a steady pace. 

“fuck, i love you. i fucking love you. fuck fuck fuck” he whispers as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, finally setting a more brutal pace. “i love you so fucking much” he sobs out, tightening his hold on you. tears slide down your cheeks, from both pleasure and the sheer happiness you feel from him saying those three words. he can feel you clamping down on his cock and knows you’re close.

“cmon baby girl, cum on my cock. fuck, i need to feel you cum around my cock.” the moan that leaves his lips is so loud, you’ve never heard him this vocal before. his right hand slides down your body until he reaches where you two are joined. rough fingers start to rub and pinch your clit, bringing you even closer. he continues to pound into you, playing with your clit until you’re a moaning, whining mess beneath him. your vision goes white and thighs clamp around his waist, he can feel you cumming and it spurs him on. he picks up the pace, chasing his own high while he stares down at you. he can’t believe he was lucky enough to get to feel love in his lifetime. to be able to feel it radiating off of you. closing his eyes he lets out a string of curse words and with a loud groan he pumps you full of his cum. slowly pulling out, he watches as it seeps out, memorized by the way it seems endless. 

you’re groggy and sleepy now, too blissed out to fully notice when he pulls out completely and rolls down next to you. you can feel him running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings to you. this is how you end up falling asleep, full of love. 

dabi gets up once he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. he doesn’t look at you while he redresses. he doesn’t look at you as he laces up his boots. he doesn’t look at you when he takes your phone and deletes his number from it. and he doesn’t look at you when he blocks your number from his phone. there’s no turning back and there’s no looking back as he leaves through your window and into the night. he loves you but he knows he can’t be what you need. he loves you so fucking much but he’s too fucked up, too damaged to be in your life.

this is the end, this is the end, this is the end of me

[applesontheground]

For the dangerous sentence prompts-

Could I please have Thomas Hewitt with “do  you  think  you  would  ever  hurt  me  like  that ?”

I wuv u <3

OH YES!!! <3 I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR A REASON TO WRITE SOME PROTECTIVE TOMMY SO THANK YOUUU

dangerous sentence prompt : "Do you think you would ever hurt me like that?" 🐖

(i don’t usually include gifs with my stuff but this scene was the one i had in mind while writing... 💓)

SFW | Word Count: 950 | Thomas Hewitt x GN Reader

contains: canon typical/violence, descriptions of gore, injury to reader via knife, objectifying language (aka Hoyt makes an appearance and as always he’s just stellar with his word choice /s)

🎼: x

“You better start prayin, kid. ‘Cause I’m giving you a one-way ticket to meet God.”

You hissed at the stranger’s words, tipping your head away from his and loathing the way he dragged the blade from the tip of your chin down your clammy throat, landing at your chest. The Hewitts were good at combatting people, but they couldn’t get them all from time to time. Sometimes, they even slipped through the cracks and into the rest of their property.

You were prepared for that alone, Hoyt not letting anyone live under his roof without knowing basic methods of self-defense. You just wished you didn’t get caught with the sadists.

The man had chased you up the stairs and into a room that gave you no furniture to shove in his way or duck behind. It wasn’t a smart idea on your behalf, but you didn’t always think when they managed to find you, let alone when they’re already agitated and ready to hurt the next person they see. It honestly made sense that he was ready to maim you if he had seen what Hoyt or Thomas could do.

He had you against the wall after you had given him enough of a runaround to make him see red, sputtering saliva onto your face with every word he spoke and relishing the way you thrashed under the bar of his rigid arm pressing against your neck. You were powerless to the tip of the blade; the knife he had kept on him was now serving him well as he had it on your body the second he had you pinned. Even his facial hair, thick and splayed out messily, had a hint of copper to them.

“Better hope he don’t come in here and see you doin’ that, boy.”

The two of you broke eye contact to locate the voice at the other end of the room. You’d felt your entire body turn to a sickening puddle under your skin when Hoyt entered the same space as you before, but to see him smug and so calm…this was a new level of terrified. You knew better than to scream at him, instead letting out an honest exhale and being mindful of the little sting you felt against your midriff.

“Who, [his/her/their] daddy?” The man sneered. You felt the blade stop pressing into your sternum ever so slightly. Hoyt clicked his tongue, shaking his head once. “Normally, I’d give shit stains like you a piece of my mind, but I think my nephew’s gonna go ‘head and do it himself. On his way right now,” He nodded at you, making you avert your eyes to the window and purse your lips, “Won’t take kindly to you layin’ hands on our property.”

Both you and the man furrowed your brows – for different reasons – but that was when you heard the boom of thick-soled boots coming up the staircase, practically becoming a thunder that shook the entire Hewitt house the more urgent his pace became. The man suddenly flinched, slicing a cut into your stomach when he turned his attention back to you.

That was when you screamed, and the familiar crank and whir of a motor came through along with a hot pain that made you see white. Hoyt stepped out of the way, retreating back into the shadow of the hall if only to make room for the humongous frame turning the corner, the end of the chainsaw entering the room before he did. “GET ‘EM, TOMMY! THE BASTARD LAID HANDS ON YOUR [MAN/WOMAN/LOVER], NOW MAKE ‘EM BLEED!”

The stranger released you, blade falling to the floor as you leaned your entire weight against the wall behind you, shooting him a squint half in agony and half in pure spite. Thomas took one look at you, a glint of bared teeth behind the worn leather, before turning his attention back to the man and charging.

You turned your head away again, knowing the agonizing wail that came when the blade of the saw hit flesh, the stutter of the chain further telling you that Thomas had made a hit. Pressing close to the wall, wishing you could slip to the other side from the force of your shoulder blades, you kept your eyes closed until there was a tremulous thud of metal against the floor, and a looming shadow slipping over you.

Despite trying to immediately lock eyes with him, you couldn’t help to glance at what was left of the man, halfway ripped into four or five separate pieces. The blade of the saw had been driven through his neck where Thomas had thrown it down, not quite tearing it but putting an ungodly pressure against the dying skin and bone that it looked like rubber.

“Do...Do you think you would ever hurt me like that?” The question was out of the terrified recognition of just how ferocious he could get, and when you looked at him with a boggling expression he slowly sank to your eye level, meeting your stare on one knee. He shook his head adamantly as he closed in, still heaving breaths through his mouth as his hands found themselves under your arms, keeping you upright and moving your shirt so he could see the gash better. His eyes were heavy with scorn, flashing at you over the fact that you would even consider that, but they slowly fell to your stomach.

Finally, he came back up with his fingers hooking into your shirt, taking you with him easily and sliding your back right up the wall again for support. All he was concerned with now was getting you out of this damn room.

[bloodxbat]

Idk why I haven’t seen this yet (and I love your stuff) but a NSWF fic with George based on the song Slumber Party by Ashnikko

Yes I love this.

Warnings: Smut, Swearing!, Oral (male and female receiving), Reader slightly cheating on Theo Nott? Choking, Dom/Sub, slight breeding kink? praise, some degradation

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @sunrisefairy @pens-and-roses @rosietoesy @comfortwriting @famdomhideout @dracofknmalfoy @pandaxnienke @writing-wh0re @onlyfreds @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @fairielovegood @gaycatlord-stuff @0x0spunky-monkey0x0 @georgeweasleysbabe @skarlettmikaelson

(MESSAGE/ASK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED)

Word Count: 2.9K

Prompt(s) used: none

Summary: Y/N found out that Theo Nott her boyfriend has been cheating on her for ages, she started to fall out of love for Theo a while ago and began to gain feelings for her best friend George Weasley, little did she know he felt the same about her. Based on the song Slumber Party by Ashnikko.

Masterlist

Slumber Party

George Weasley x Fem! Reader

I’m not shy, I’ll say it

I’ve been picturing you naked

I’m a little faded

You look like a fuckin’ paintin’ 

Y/N had found out that her boyfriend Theo Nott had been cheating on her the whole time they were in a relationship. It annoyed her yes, but if she was being honest with herself she had stopped having feelings for Theo a while ago and was now totally head over heels for her best friend George Weasley. The man sitting right in front of her on his bed looked completely ethereal, his long ginger hair was beautiful, the freckles on his face reminded her of stars in the sky. All she wanted to do was to reach over and kiss him, become in a relationship with George, possibly get totally covered in hickeys by him as payback to Theo for being a complete and utter dickhead to her. 

George was too focused on his book to notice Y/N looking at him with hearts in her eyes. George had spent a while now trying to repress his feelings for Y/N because he knew she was in a relationship and it would be wrong to make any advances, he also repressed those feelings because he didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had and make it awkward if she didn’t reciprocate the same feelings towards him as he did her. Little did he know she did. 

“George” Y/N spoke softly gaining his attention

“mhm” he hummed in response now looking her in the eyes

“Theo-Theo has been cheating on me” 

“He what?!”

“yeah, apparently he has been the whole time we’ve been in a relationship, seen him sucking off the face of some Hufflepuff girl”

“did you break up with him?”

“no, I just came here, to see you”

“oh”

“but I want to get back at him” 

“how?”

“I want you George”

“You-you want me?”

Y/N just nodded her head, biting her lip.

“Yeah, I uhm- if I'm being honest I sort of began to fall for you a couple of months ago George”

Big doe eyes, amazin’

She’s everything I’ve been prayin’

My heart palpitation

She looks like the type to break it

George was in total awe of what he had just been told. She had feelings for him? Was this really happening? George didn’t have any words, although he did have a burst of confidence with this new found information. 

Before he could even process what he was doing George was leaning towards Y/N and captured her lips with his in a soft kiss. They both pulled back and looked into each others eyes, searching for the answer of whether or not the other enjoyed that very short and sweet kiss they had just shared. 

As if they both communicated with their eyes, they both leaned in again, but this time kisses more passionately. Moans falling into each other’s mouths, their tongues brushing off each other battling for dominance. 

George leaned forward more so Y/N was now lying on her back on the bed, her arms wrapped securely round his neck, pulling him closer to her in need of touch and friction. 

Y/N lifted her hips up grinding herself onto George causing a growl to come from his lips, instantly making a pool of arousal build up in her pants. 

George could feel his trousers becoming a lot tighter, his dick begging for attention trapped within his trousers. 

Me and your girlfriend playing dress up at my house

I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch

She cute, Kawaii hentai boobies, that excites me

I think she likes me, asked politely can I 

George slowly began to kiss her neck, moans escaping her mouth as he sucked down slightly on her sweet spots leaving red a purple marks as he went. His fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt, silently asking if he could take it off, Y/N lifted her hips slightly, allowing him to pull it down her legs and throw it somewhere on the floor, not caring where it landed. Next to come off was her top, only breaking the kiss as George lifted it up over her head. 

George stared down at her half naked body, soaking up how good she looked underneath him, all her imperfections glowed and quickly became his favourite part(s) of her. Y/N blushed slightly under his gaze, but George found this cute as she attempted to hide her face in the pillow. 

“Don’t hide darling, you’re absolutely beautiful” he cooed, leaning down and kissing her softly before beginning to trailing kissed all down her chest, skilfully unclasped her bra, revealing her breasts, one of which he quickly took into his hand massaging it while kissing and biting on the other, earning soft whiney moans to fall from Y/N’s lips, her back arching wanting, no, needing more. 

“P-please Georgie” she whined

“Patience darling, I'm getting there, gonna eat out your pretty little pussy” 

George trailed open mouthed kissed down her stomach until he reached the hem of her panties. Looking up at her for permission George pulls them down over her thighs, the part of her that by far was his favourite, tossing them to join the rest of her clothes which now scattered the dormitory room. 

The absence of the fabric of her panties, showed off Y/N’s shining cunt perfectly to George, his eyes turned dark with pure lust. 

“So gorgeous, look at you dripping for me, look so tasty” he groaned licking his lips, before diving straight down, taking her clit in his mouth and sucking gently. Y/N’s hands went straight to his fiery red hair, tugging as she moaned and bucked her hips. George’s tongue worked wonders on her, the way it alternated between thrusting in and out of her to licking broad stripes up her folds. The lewd slurping sounds of George anomalistically eating her out filled the room along with her loud moans. Each time Y/N pulled on the hair at the nape of George’s neck, it caused him to growl onto her sending vibrations straight to her core. 

“F-fuck Georgie, m’close so close oh God”

“Go on darling, cum for me, all over my face, need to taste all of you”

With a few more licks from George, Y/N released all her juices on to his face, her legs shaking and her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she let out a strangled moan. George hummed onto her as he soaked up all of her release onto his tongue, savouring the sweet and salty taste. 

George rose from in-between her legs, licking his lips. His chin and lips still glistening from a mix of his own saliva and Y/N’s release. 

“Tasted so good cumming for me darling, done so well”

Y/N reached her hand forward, palming him through his trousers, she could feel just how hard he was and it only turned her on more. She rubbed his erect cock slightly causing his eyes to flutter closed a breathy moan falling from his lips. 

“Please George, wanna make you feel good, please can I suck your dick, been such a good girl”

“How can I say no when your begging like a good little slut”

Slumber Party

Slumber Party 

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

George got up off the bed, pulling his top over his head, revealing his bare, pale and freckled torso. Y/N’s jaw almost dropped to the floor at the sight of him, sure she could slightly make out the muscles he had gained from years of quidditch underneath his top, but now that it was off, she could see every toned detail, and it made her mouth water like crazy, he was absolutely gorgeous. 

Next came his trousers, they too were discarded to the floor of the dormitory, leaving George only in his boxers, his bulge very prominent. 

“On your knees darling”

Y/N quickly obliged, getting off the bed and placing herself just in front of him, her head at the same height as his cock. 

“Go on pretty girl, take them off, n’make me feel good”

Y/N brought her hands up to the hem of his boxers, wrapping her fingers round the waist band, and pulled them down his legs. Freeing his erect dick, which came bouncing out and slapped him on the stomach, the sheer size of him made her salivate like a dog waiting for its dinner. Her eyes wide, wondering how in Godric’s name she was going to fit him all in her mouth. 

Y/N tentatively brought her hand up, spitting on it, before stroking his member from base to tip, George’s head falling back and eyes closing in pleasure finally getting some release. Y/N began to teasingly kiss the tip, soaking up the pre cum that was leaking from him on her fingers and spreading it round his dick, before taking the tip into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks, pulling off of him with a ‘pop’.

She then, once she had gained more confidence, took as much of George as she could into her mouth, her tongue laying flat on the under side of his shaft, causing pleasure to shoot right to his core. 

“Fuck princess, taking me so well, feels so good” he slurred now in complete pleasure. 

Y/N bobbed her head up and down faster, gagging as the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. The noises only edging George closer and closer to his release. 

“God princess, keep going, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum and you’re gonna take all of it”

Y/N’s pace only quickened, her wanting more than nothing to make him cum and taste him all. Soon enough, George’s hand made its way to the back of her head, pushing her all the way down onto him as he released his hot cum all down her throat, forcing her to swallow all of it. The moan that George made as he came was something that Y/N was sure, was going to repeat in her head daily. 

“Done so well darling, took my cum like a good little whore”

“You’re welcome Georgie, loved having your cock in my mouth”

Uh, it’s getting hot in here

I’m the Nelly in the party with some rocks for ears

I’m a slave for you, baby, Ms Britney Spears

I’m a clubber, she a Taurus bring it on for cheers

“Yeah, you like sucking my cock princess” he cooed kissing her sweetly 

“mhm, love it, will do anything you want Georgie, anything for you, m’gonna be your good girl”

George’s eyes softened slightly though still dark with lust. Hearing how Y/N was willing to be totally submissive for him, do anything he liked filled his heart. 

George led her over to the bed where he sat down, leaning against the headboard. He patted his lap, motioning for her to straddle him. 

Once Y/N was sat comfortably on his lap, George brought her down for a heated, needy kiss. Moans falling again into each others mouths, tongues fighting against each other although this time it was clear that George took dominance straight away. 

George pulled away and began sucking on her neck, licking over the already formed hickeys before whispering into her ear. 

“Want you to ride be baby”

And I’m sexy like Christina when I dip it low

Not an H-town girl, but I rodeo

Yippee-ki-yay, welcome to the show

It’s an all-girl party, clothing optional

Y/N helped George position himself at her entrance, his tip only just swiping across her folds, causing a needy moan to fall from her lips. Both of them groan in pleasure as Y/N slowly sinks down on George’s cock. Y/N feels full to the brim, her eyes watering slightly at the sting of the stretch, she had never taken anyone as big as George before. 

“S-so big Georgie, feels so goo-d” 

“yeah? fill you right up don’t I princess, feel so fucking tight, squeezing my cock like a good girl” he moaned

Once she was used to his size, Y/N began to lift her hips up and down, bouncing on his cock, George’s hands slightly guiding her onto him, setting a semi-fast pace. 

The sound of their skin slapping and breathy moans filled the room, each panting with pleasure. Their foreheads rested together as they looked into each others eyes. 

“Look so pretty riding me baby, tits bouncing perfectly, oh-f-fuck”

Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress up at my house

I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch

She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies, that excites me

I think she really likes me, asked politely, can I

George flips them over so that he is on top, the sight of Y/N beneath him again turns him on even more. He is quick to sheath himself back inside her, muffling her moans with his mouth, wanting to taste her lips as he pounds into her. 

His hands lift up to meet her boobs, massaging and kneading the skin roughly, causing explicit moans to far from Y/N’s mouth. 

“God George, keep going, h-harder please” she cried, tears of absolute pleasure running down her cheeks as his cock hit her g-spot with every thrust. 

“Aw look at you crying under me, quite pathetic, but I'm willing to give you what you want since you’ve been such a good girl for me”

George pulled almost all the way out of her, lifting her legs over his shoulder in order to get a better angle, before slamming into her harshly. 

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

George’s pace quickened, whines falling from Y/N mouth as she could feel herself getting closer to her release. 

“Mmm you close baby girl? can feel you squeezing round my dick, gonna have to hold it baby, ‘til I tell you, you can cum”

“B-but Georgie, feels too good, d’know if I can hold it an-y longer” 

“Just hold it, I know you can, be a good girl for me, been so good”

My girl look like Wednesday Adams

Eyes go black when she orgasms

Hide your back she likes to stab them

My butt cheeks, she like to grab

Y/N was in need of even more pleasure from George, if he wasn’t going to let her cum yet she might as well get the most out of this. 

She reached for his hand and guided it towards her neck. George’s fingers instantly wrapping round her throat squeezing the sides of her neck slightly, causing the blood circulation to be cut off giving Y/N extreme pleasure as she felt light headed. 

“So dirty wanting me to choke you baby, but you look so good with my hand wrapped round your throat”

“Yes Georgie, please, love it when you choke me”

“That right baby?”

Y/N nodded her head, moaning as the mix of George’s hand on her throat and his dick pounding into her at an un-godly pace, was beginning to be too much. 

“Since you’ve been so good, m’gonna let you cum, come on princess, cum all over my cock, soak me”

Y/N felt her legs shake as pleasure washed over her, her walls tightening around George’s cock as her juices run down her legs. Her eyes black over as they roll to the back of her head, screaming out a gargled moan. 

“Good girl, fuck- felt so good cumming round me, looked so pretty too”

Matching pyjama birthday suits

Her spit taste just like juicy fruit 

She do that thing she usually do

Spell my name with her tongue, like

George knew he wouldn’t last much longer, after feeling Y/N clench round him, he was a goner, he threw his head back as he continued to pound into her chasing his own high.

“F-fuck m’gonna cum, gonna fill you up baby”

Both moaned at the feeling of George’s seed shooting into her, painting her walls with his release. 

George thrusted a few more times, making sure his release stayed inside her. 

“Felt so good baby, were such a good girl for me, doing what you were told”

He leant down, capturing her lips in a loving and passionate kiss, a kiss which contrasted the earlier hungrier and sloppy kisses they shared. 

Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress  up at my house

I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch

She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies, that excites me

I think she really likes me, asked politely can I 

George pulled out, hissing at the loss of contact. Y/N felt herself feel completely empty as the feeling of George being inside her disappeared. 

George laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her head as she cuddled up into the side of him, sighing with content at the warm feeling of their bodies pressed up against each other. 

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

Slumber Party

“Can’t believe we just did that” George laughed

“Yeah, neither can I, but I must say, it was amazing” Y/N giggled

“Bet I'm a better fuck that Theo”

“Oh yeah, you are 100%, way better” she smiled

��I want you to be my only fuck from now on” Y/N said looking into Georges eyes, a breathy laugh escaped his mouth.

“Is that your way of asking me out L/N? so romantic”

“Shut up, carrot crotch, will you though? go out with me?”

“First of all, carrot crotch? ouch! Secondly, yes, yes I will. But first, you need to go break up with that cheating dick head”

“I will, but right now I want cuddles” Y/N pouted

“Anything for you princess”