#workers of iniquity

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Will Fools Never Learn?

Have the workers of iniquity no knowledge? who eat up my people as they eat bread: they have not called upon God. — Psalm 53:4 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain. Cross References: Psalm 59:2; Psalm 79:6-7; Jeremiah 4:22; Micah 3:2

[archangel-metatron]

🔓 The Restrainer, the Lawless, and the Return of Christ: A Prophetic Breakdown

“For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work; only He who now restrains will do so until He is taken out of the way.

And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord will consume with the breath of His mouth and destroy with the brightness of His coming.”

— 2 Thessalonians 2:7–8 (NKJV)

In a time when the foundations of morality and order are being shaken across the globe, this passage in 2 Thessalonians carries urgent prophetic weight. It speaks of a restrainer that is currently holding back full-scale lawlessness — but not forever. A time is coming when this restrainer will be removed, and when that happens, the world will be plunged into unprecedented deception, disorder, and rebellion.

This isn’t just about a man rising to power. It’s about a spiritual system, a collective people, and a global uprising against the truth of God. Let's break it down.

🛡 Who is the Restrainer?

Paul never names the restrainer directly, but scripture gives us enough clues:

The Holy Spirit is certainly the power behind all truth, order, and righteousness.

God’s people — the body of Christ — are the earthly vessels through which that restraint operates.

Lawful authority (Romans 13) such as justice systems, civil leaders, and even social norms still act as barriers to open rebellion.

The restrainer is therefore the presence of godly influence in the world, particularly the Spirit-filled body of Christ — those who live by the truth, uphold righteousness, and resist the spiritual tide of rebellion.

> “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.”

— Matthew 5:13–14

But Jesus also warned: “The night is coming when no one can work.” (John 9:4)

⚠️ Why Is the Restrainer Removed?

The removal of the restrainer marks a judicial act by God — a point at which the world no longer wants truth, and He gives them over to what they crave: delusion and lawlessness.

> “And for this reason God will send them strong delusion, that they should believe the lie…”

— 2 Thessalonians 2:11

The reason is clear:

> “…because they did not receive the love of the truth, that they might be saved.” (v.10)

This is not ignorance. It is willful rebellion.

When truth is no longer welcome, God removes those who carry it.

This parallels with the departure of God’s people — whether by persecution, silencing, or being caught up at the appointed time — and the final lifting of the Holy Spirit’s restraint, allowing evil to flood in.

🧱 Who Is the Lawless One?

Though 2 Thessalonians speaks of “the lawless one” as though it were a person, it becomes clear that this is more than just a man:

It is a spirit — “the spirit of the antichrist, which… is already in the world” (1 John 4:3)

It is a system — built on deception, rebellion, and counterfeit authority

It is a people — those who reject the truth and embrace falsehood

Just as Jesus has a body, so too does Satan. The body of lawlessness is made up of those who:

Suppress truth

Mock righteousness

Embrace sin

Follow false teachers

Participate in spiritual and cultural rebellion

Paul said:

> “…they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned aside to fables.”

— 2 Timothy 4:3–4

This is the generation that arises once the restrainer is removed.

🌍 What Happens After the Restrainer Is Gone?

1. Lawlessness will abound (Matthew 24:12)

2. Civil order will collapse (Isaiah 3:5)

3. Ethnic and national divisions will explode (Matthew 24:7 — “nation against nation”)

4. False miracles and supernatural deception will increase (2 Thess. 2:9)

5. The Antichrist system will take global power (Revelation 13:7)

The world will experience chaos, strong delusion, and a false peace that leads into total destruction.

🔥 What Happens When Jesus Returns?

> “…whom the Lord will consume with the breath of His mouth and destroy with the brightness of His coming.”

— 2 Thessalonians 2:8

When Jesus returns, the entire lawless structure — the man, the movement, the system, the spirit — will be obliterated by His presence.

He will:

Expose the lies

Crush the rebellion

Judge the lawless

Vindicate the saints

Establish righteousness

> “The Lord comes with ten thousands of His saints, to execute judgment on all, to convict all who are ungodly…”

— Jude 1:14–15

🛡 What Should We Do Right Now?

Paul tells Timothy what to do in an age of rebellion — and it's the same for us:

> “Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching.

For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine…

But you be watchful in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.”

— 2 Timothy 4:2–5

✅ So we must:

Hold fast to the truth

Preach the Word boldly

Resist the spirit of the age

Do the work of an evangelist

Watch and wait for the Lord’s return

✝️ Final Word

The restrainer is not just a passive force — it's a people filled with the Spirit of God, holding the line. But a time is coming when that line will be removed, and the lawless will flood in.

Now is the time to shine. Now is the time to speak. Now is the time to stand.

Because soon — very soon — the restrainer will be taken out of the way, and the world will see exactly what happens when truth is no longer welcome.

And after that, the King returns.

[the-red-thread-70-w-blog]

How Sigma Females Slowly Become Cold-Hearted (A Devastating Reality)

[azriona]

The Escort (fic)

Bucky x Reader, Explicit Fluff, ~4.8k words, AU/no powers. (omg guys, type bucky barnes tongue in the gif search box and OH BOY you'll be there for a while)

Summary:

Nat says you need to relax. Nat says she knows a guy who can help with that. Nat says a lot of things. Man, you hate it when she’s right.

MCU Masterlist ~ Also available on A03

You are gonna kill your best friend for talking you into this.

“This is a terrible idea,” you hiss at her as you and she head up the steps to the brownstone near Prospect Park in Brooklyn. “If it isn’t a joke. It’s a joke, right?”

“I thought it’d be a birthday present, honestly.”

“This is going to be your aunt’s house or something and you’re all about to have a fantastic laugh at my expense.”

“I promise, not my aunt’s house,” says Nat, rolling her eyes, but she does tighten her arm, looped confidently around yours. “My aunt would have way worse curtains. Look, you’re been super stressed the last couple of months—”

“I’m a lawyer, stressed is my middle name.”

“—and you refuse to take a vacation—”

“Again. Lawyer.”

“—so consider this a compromise.”

You’ve reached the front door; Nat leans over and presses the doorbell while you stare at her, agape. “How is hiring a… I don’t even know what they’re called! Gigolo?”

“I think the preferred term is sex worker,” offers Nat. “You’re going to like him. I promise.”

“Nat-tested, Nat-approved?” you say snottily, but Nat just grins at you.

“Let’s just say, this man’s tongue gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

You roll your eyes. “Nat, you’re a lesbian.”

“Exactly,” says Nat just as the door opens, held by the most unassuming, boring man in human existence.

“Again?” the man says to Nat.

“She has an appointment,” says Nat. “I’m just here for drinks.”

“Of course,” says the man, as if he hadn’t expected any other answer. He motions you both inside, takes your coats, hangs them up in a nearby closet—where there’s already half a dozen coats hanging—and leads you down the hall to the back of the house.

“Just talk to him,” Nat murmurs to you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But give him an hour, okay?”

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” you murmur back, entirely cross, before you step into the back room.

It’s… not what you expected. You were thinking either Old West bordello, or maybe some high-class, super dressy James Bondy sort of thing. You’d split the difference when trying to decide what to wear, gone with jeans and silk shirt, but Nat took one look and pronounced you fine.

Given what you see, she wasn’t wrong.

The back room is huge, clearly designed as a space for a large gathering. There’s a kitchen on one side, a fireplace with couches on the other, large plate windows that look out onto a patio and garden. Two dozen people mingle, most wearing jeans and sweaters and one or two of the ladies in casual dresses. Everyone looks super comfortable, there’s bright smiles and cheerful laughter from every corner. A few people are congregated around a pool table, a few others are by a large-screen television, cheering on a football game. There’s someone behind the bar, protesting that she has no idea how to mix the drink one of the guys has requested.

It looks like a group of friends, all hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Or a casual get-together of work buddies who all like each other. It absolutely does not look like a den of iniquity or a swinger’s party or other types of sexy shenanigans.

Unless she really is pranking you. It’s hard to tell; the group by the bar lets out a shout when they see Nat, waving her over, and she’s gone before you can even think to grab her by the wrist and demand an explanation.

“You look somewhat startled,” says the man who led you in. He’s got a wry, soft smile on his thin lips. “I take it you expected something much different.”

“You have no idea,” you say.

“I think I do. You thought you’d see crushed velvet and heaving bosoms, or ridiculously overdressed high-end escorts with price tags around their necks and endless flutes of champagne?”

You wince. “Okay, maybe you do.”

He chuckles. “Not that those places don’t exist. But not here. We like to have a more… casual vibe. We want everyone here to feel comfortable, relaxed. Regardless of why they’re here.”

You take a breath and turn to him. “Can I be frank with you, Mr.—”

“Coulson.”

“Mr. Coulson. I’m only here because Nat is my best friend, and she kinda twisted my arm.”

“I see.”

“I have no idea if this is even something I want.”

“Not an uncommon reaction.”

“I have never done anything like this before, or even thought about doing something like this.”

“Of course not.”

“So you see my dilemma.”

“Crystal clear.”

“I’m sure everyone here is really great at what they do, but—”

Mr. Coulson holds out his hand to stop you. “Let me assure you, there is no obligation for you to do anything here. Your friend merely wants you to enjoy yourself.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And if you choose to remain in this room for the rest of the night, no one will think any less of you. Nor will we hold it against your friend for bringing you here.”

“I don’t want to waste your time, that’s all.”

“Who’s wasting what?” says a cheerful, friendly voice.

The guy who joins you is at least a head taller. His brown hair is thick and just a little bit floppy, held back by sheer will and the power of persistence. There’s a bit of scruff on his cheeks, and blue-grey eyes that look like they can’t stop laughing. His smile is bright and easy and comfortable, and he’s wearing a blue Henley layered over a t-shirt, both incredibly soft, clinging to his chest and arms.

He is exactly. Exactly. Your type. You can barely take your eyes off him.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” says Mr. Coulson, with a smile. “One of my favorite guests. Let me introduce you.”

*

You spend nearly an hour chatting with James—which he asks you to call him after the first ten minutes—while you sit on the couches by the fire. James is sweet and funny and seems genuinely interested in the type of law you do, and in turn is more than happy to regale you with stories of his engineering job, working with robotics to create better, more functional prosthetics.

It’s fascinating, and he has a way of making the highly technical details exceedingly accessible.

And then he’s even apologetic for boring you.

“You didn’t bore me,” you assure him. “I think I even understand what you’re trying to do, and I can barely program my phone to stop ringing after midnight.”

“Hand it over,” he says immediately, reaching out. “That’s easy, I can do that in my sleep. You sure about midnight? That’s late.”

“The fact that I’m setting a do-not-disturb at all is already going to get me in trouble at work,” you admit. “Life of a lawyer, we’re all kind of workaholics.”

“Mmm,” he says, typing fast on your phone. “What time do you want to turn it back on?”

“4am.”

He frowns. “That’s not a lot.”

“I work out every morning.”

You see his eyes sweep your body before he focuses back on the phone in his hands. It makes your stomach curl. Particularly since he’s pushed his Henley sleeves up and you’ve been admiring his forearms for the last twenty minutes.

“Done. And I promise I didn’t do anything skeevy like add my contact information. Not that I wouldn’t want to give it to you, but not without your permission.”

The heat rises to your cheeks, and you duck your face a little bit, embarrassed as you take back your phone. “That’s sweet. For the record, though, I don’t think I would mind much.”

“Yeah? I mean, you’re the one who said you weren’t sure about being here tonight.”

You shrug and look around. There’s fewer people in the room now, though Nat’s still by the bar, chatting up a woman wearing her dark hair in a loose bun, and a blond man who looks like he lives in the gym, judging by the size of his arms. “I don’t know. I was sort of expecting something… a little more…”

“Risque?”

“Yeah.”

James grins. “Yeah. This is better, I think.”

You nod. “You have much experience with places like this?”

“Like this? Nowhere’s like this. But places, sure. Worked at a place on the other side of Queens, that would have sent your head spinning down the street. Every single one of us had to wear a themed costume and—you didn’t realize I’m one of the escorts, did you?”

Because it’s clear that your shock is on display for all to see. Your mouth doesn’t drop open, but your eyes go wide and your neck goes stiff, and for a moment, you’re turned to stone.

You also want to flee, or at least go straight to Nat, grab her by the wrist and drag her out of there, her companions be damned.

James is one of the escorts.

And you’ve just spent an hour talking to him. Like a normal person.

Which he is! Of course he is! Totally normal!

“You can breathe,” suggests James.

You suck in a breath. “Sorry, I just…”

“Thought I was a guest, like you? I am. We all are. Phil meant it when he said this place isn’t like other places, you know. I’m here because I want to be. I don’t have a contract or set times I have to be here. I’m here when I want to be, and only when I want to be.”

“Okay,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t squeak. “Sorry, just… you talked about your job at Stark Industries, I thought—”

“I do work at Stark Industries. But I did this to put myself through grad school. I come here sometimes for a lot of reasons, and none of them have to do with the money. Or the sex, honestly. But I’ve had some really good conversations here, and I had one with you tonight, and I hope this didn’t ruin it for you.”

“It didn’t.”

“Good.”

And then—much to your surprise—he settles back on the couch and into what you’d been talking about earlier. As if it was just a blip in the conversation.

And even more to your surprise—you stop thinking about the length of his fingers. And the hair on the back of his forearm. And the curve of his ear. And the way he smells when he leans over to grab a napkin so he can sketch out the design he’s working on, some kind of spicy cologne that makes you want to scoot closer to him on the couch, a whiff of cigar smoke, like he’d been standing near someone smoking, but not actually smoking himself.

How soft the hair on the back of his head looks, not too close-shaven. You couldn’t run your fingers through it, but it’d tickle your skin.

You reach for your wine, only to realize that there’s barely a few sips left. And when you glance at the bar, no one’s there anymore.

Not even Nat.

“I’ll get you more,” offers James. He whisks the glass from your hand and leaps to his feet in one swift movement. You almost follow him, but instead you twist on the couch to watch as he goes behind the bar and fills your glass.

The room really is empty. And James moves around the back of the bar like he’s been there a few times, but not so well that he doesn’t take an extra moment to look for something.

“Nat’s upstairs with Maria, if you’re wondering.”

You sit up a little. “You know Nat?”

“Once or twice,” says James casually.

And then it hits you.

“Oh my god,” you say, sitting up even more. “You’re the guy who went down on—”

James looks up over the bar at you, and you immediately drop your head down on the cushions to hide the way your cheeks are on fire.

“I am so sorry,” you say, voice muffled by the cushions. “That was awful. Can we rewind the last couple of minutes?”

“Nope,” says James. There’s laughter in his voice. “So, she say good things? Or not?”

You groan and cover your head with your arms.

“Now you’re making me nervous.”

“She dragged me here, didn’t she?”

“Good things,” says James, very self-satisfied.

The couch shakes as he sits down on the other end. You lift your head, see the now-full wine glass, and you sit up, tossing your hair back as if you didn’t just completely embarrass yourself. James grins easily at you, like you just cracked the best joke that had nothing to do with his oral skills.

You take the wine glass and gulp a couple of sips immediately. Or maybe half the glass.

James raises an eyebrow. “Nervous?”

“Liquid courage,” you explain.

James’s smile slides into something softer. “Doll, it doesn’t matter why Nat insisted you be here. Or why she asked me to be here the same night. You don’t have to do a thing.” He pauses. “Well, you wouldn’t have to do a thing even so, I’d be the one doin’ all the work.”

You burst into laughter, covering your mouth with the hand not holding the wine, but James reaches out and takes your wrist, running his fingers over the back of your hand and pulling it down.

“It’s a beautiful smile,” he chides you. “Don’t cover it.”

Maybe the wine worked, because before you can second-guess yourself, you speak. “So you’re good at it?”

His grin is positively feral. “Very good.”

You laugh again, eyes darting to the way he’s still holding your hand—though it’s not exactly holding. His fingers trace yours, up and down over your knuckles, light and soft and so relaxing.

“Nat says I need to relax,” you say, eyes on his fingers.

“Huh. She told me the same thing,” he says. “Uh… it’s how I relax, actually. Coming here.”

“Oh.”

“Something about making a woman feel good… it’s powerful stuff, you know? I ride that high all week. Carry it into work with me, and I’m twenty times more productive than I was before.”

“So you’re here specifically to…”

“Give someone a mutually beneficial orgasm, yeah.”

You smile, soft. “Uh… Orgasm. Singular?”

“Like I said, doll,” he says quietly, “you don’t have to do a thing.”

The kiss is sweet and soft, innocent considering. James’s lips are warm against yours, his breath sweet and smokey like the bourbon he’d been drinking earlier. It doesn’t take anything to open up under him, let him lead the way into the kiss, lick into your mouth and twine his fingers in yours.

Your heart pounds as he pulls away, chest heaving.

“This all right?”

“I… isn’t there a rule, about kissing on the mouth?”

He chuckles. “You watch too many movies.”

But he works his way down from your mouth to your neck, suckling the skin gently. Not enough to bruise, enough that you groan and lean your head to the side to give him better access. The stubble on his cheeks scratches just lightly enough to make every inch of skin come alive. His hands hold you by the waist, and you rest your hands on his arms, clinging so you don’t fall over.

“Your friend is right, you’re tense,” he murmurs into your skin. “I can help with that, if you let me.”

“I—”

“No pressure, doll. But I’m clean, and I know you are, too. Something Phil insists on before any of us walk in the door. And I’d love to help you relax.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. He hasn’t stopped kissing your neck, slowly pushing your silk blouse to the side so he can access your shoulder. Not that he’s undone a single button, or yanked at the fabric more than it would allow. He’s barely at your bra strap. And the hands that hold your waist, they haven’t gone wandering up or down, or tried to slip under your clothes, either.

He’s really waiting for permission to take what isn’t on display.

And it’s been so. Fucking. Long.

“Okay.” So soft, so quiet, so lodged in your throat you’re not sure he’s even heard you.

Maybe he didn’t. Because he keeps suckling at your neck, kissing across your collarbone to the other side, then back to your mouth. It’s warmer now; or maybe that’s just the way he’s kissing you, slow but certainly not lazy, his hands finally moving around to your back as he lowers you to the lay on the couch.

And then to the front of your jeans, where he nimbly and swiftly undoes the buttons on your fly.

“Wait—here?”

“We’re the last in here, doll. That means it’s ours. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

You nod, because honestly, if you had to get up and move somewhere else, you’d probably lose your nerve. And you’re already a nervous wreck.

James might be every bit as good as Nat says; he leaves your jeans unbuttoned, and comes back up to kiss you again until you’re once more starting to soften and relax under his weight and warmth. “I don’t have a safeword. Just tell me to stop, if you want me to, okay?”

You nod, a little bit frantic, and he kisses you again, this time moving a little to the side and sliding his hand between your jeans and your panties, fingers searching until they’re skimming over your pussy, where you’re already feeling warm and wet.

The breath catches in your throat; your hand clenches a little bit on his arm. His fingers skim over your clit, over your folds, light and soft, and you think you feel his lips turn up in a smile even as he continues kissing you. They’re gone just as smoothly as they arrived, as he runs his hand to your hip and slowly starts to ease your jeans down.

You have to shift on the couch to help them along, but soon, they’re down far enough that it doesn’t take much to kick them away entirely. The air in the room is a bit chilly, even so close to the fire, and James takes a moment to throw the cushions from the back of the couch aside, giving you both more room.

Then he continues the kiss, even as his fingers continue to explore your hips, your thighs, and your still-covered pussy. Every brush of his fingers makes you shiver, your muscles fluttering.

“Still okay?”

You nod.

“Good,” he says, mouth descending on your neck as his finger slides under your panties to press against you.

You let out a groan; his finger isn’t just covering your clit; it rests right along the center of you, the tip at your entrance, and you squirm against him, not sure if you want to pull away and press closer. He sucks at your neck as you wriggle, trying to find some kind of equilibrium, waiting for you to relax into him.

And you do, slowly moving closer to him, pressing up against his finger, so that the tip almost—almost—slips inside, where you know you’re wet and warm.

He dips his finger in, just a little, and then slides up, dragging the slick from your cunt up to your clit, which he slowly starts to circle, softly rubbing as you try to keep your breathing even, your hips from bucking up into him. Everything is shaking, moving, fluttering.

He kisses your mouth again as you let out a soft cry, riding the soft swell that rises. It’s tiny, nothing you couldn’t get on your own, but it’s been a long time since anyone else made it happen.

You fall back on the cushions, letting out a long sigh. “Oh.”

“Good start?”

Your eyes fly open. “Start?”

He chuckles, then kisses you again; his finger is still, against your clit. “You didn’t think that was it, did you? Doll, that was just the appetizer.”

“I… uh…”

“Do you want more?”

“Y-e-e-e-sss, but I don’t usually…”

He kisses you again. “Trust me?”

You nod, still uncertain.

But the man has his finger on your pussy, and you’re still warm and wet and already you want to press against him again, feel him move against you again.

He kisses down your neck, down your collarbone, down to the first button on your blouse, which is when you realize his hands have moved too, to the sides of your panties, which he slowly starts to pull away from you, throwing them off the couch.

“Lean back,” he says huskily, and picks up the kisses just below the last button on your blouse, on that soft rise of your stomach, the one that drives you up the wall in the gym because it never seems to go away. He doesn’t care, if the way he kisses is any indication.

And then he’s at the top of your curls, dropping kisses around the line of them, down the crease between your legs and your torso, down… down… down…

“James, I—”

He pauses, waits, his breath hot on your dampened skin.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to speak.

“Good.”

The heat of his mouth on your folds makes you groan, push your shoulders and head back into the pillows. One hand instinctively reaches down, and he grabs it with his, letting you twine your fingers together, gripping him tightly, as he lets his breath warm your pussy. His lips are barely touching you, and already you feel the desire rising, the warmth increasing, the wetness begin anew. You spread your legs for him—you can’t not, you’re barely aware of the way you hook one leg over the back of the couch—and his other hand touches you, helping spread your pussy lips, opening you wide.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers, then runs his nose along your soft folds, before following with something softer, sharper, wetter.

His tongue, you only belatedly, hazily, realize, as his thumb lands on your clit and begins to circle it again.  

You lose yourself in the sensations, his licking up you over and over and over. His thumb and forefinger, alternating between flicks and light pressure, twists and circles, riding the high of your gasps and groans, the way you press up against him and send your thighs fluttering around his head.

Wave after wave of pleasure, of release, of rising as the orgasms rush over you, softly one after the other, never-ending. Your cries and moans fill the room, against the crackle of the fire and the soft, wet sounds of his warm mouth against you.

His fingers, wet against your skin, stroke and press, flick and tease, until you are wrung out, exhausted, relaxed and limp against the pillows, without the strength to even continue holding his hand.

The gentleness of his kisses, as he wipes the slick away from your inner thighs, the skin and curls around your exhausted, swollen, touch-sensitive pussy.

He nestles behind you on the couch, wrapping you in his arms, nuzzling into the back of your neck, your heart still pounding.

“You lied to me earlier,” you mumble into the pillow, pulling his arms tight around your torso.

He’s quiet for a moment, his lips on your skin. “Hmm?”

“You said only one orgasm. That was a lot of orgasms.”

He chuckles into your neck. “Guess so. Did they work?”

You don’t answer. You’re already asleep.

*

It’s an hour later when you finally leave the brownstone.

You’d dozed in James’s arms for a good forty-five minutes, and woke feeling more relaxed and rested than you had in… years, maybe, you can barely remember. Your panties and jeans are neatly folded on the nearest table; there’s a bottle of water next to them, and James is over by the bar, water running.

He comes over once you’ve redressed. You wonder if he even took off his clothes at all. You don’t think so.

“Good nap?” he asks pleasantly, like you’d just fallen asleep on the couch, no nefarious or sexy times preceding.

“Yeah.”

He nods, and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else.

“I have to head out—it’s a ways to my apartment. I think Nat’s going to meet you in the foyer, though. Don’t worry about leaving a mess, there’s people who clean that up.”

You nod, suddenly shy and uncertain. Isn’t there… payment of some kind? A tip? Or… something?

“Hey,” he says suddenly, and you look up, just in time for him to lean over and kiss you.

A sweet kiss, unassuming, a press of his lips against yours.

You smell yourself on his skin, the rich muskiness of your come, and you lean up into it.

But he doesn’t open his mouth for more, and all he says, when he pulls away, is a quiet, whispered, “Bye.”

And then he’s gone.

You let out a long breath and slump against the cushions, your hands pressed to your chest. Thinking only, did that really happen?

Must have. You’re still wet, still warm, every nerve still alive.

Nat’s waiting for you in the foyer, already in her coat. No one else is around, and there’s a flush to her cheeks, a relaxed smile on her face.

She hands you your coat. “Ready?”

“Aren’t we supposed to… uh, pay?”

She shakes her head, but she’s got a pensive look on her face, like there’s something you’re not quite catching. “Already took care of it.”

“Nat…”

“Happy birthday?”

You groan and grab your coat.

You’re halfway down the block when Nat says, “Sooooooo.”

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me you’re looking for an after-action report.”

“Yep. How was it?”

You just sigh and shake your head, grinning.

Nat knocks her shoulders against yours; you knock her right back. “Gotta say. Maria’s great, but she’s no Bucky.”

You glance at her. “Hmm?”

“I figured you’d like him, that’s why I wanted you to meet him. I mean, Maria does this thing,” begins Nat, lifting her hands as if to demonstrate, “and I can’t figure out what she’s doing exactly, it’s a weird angle, but—”

“Nat, stop,” you say, grabbing her by the arm. “I was with James.”

Nat stops walking and stares at you. “James.”

Your heart stops in your chest. Your eyes go wide.

“Oh no,” you breathe. “Nat. Nat. Who did I just have sex with?!?”

“James, apparently,” says Nat. “Who introduced you?”

“That Coulson guy! He said, this is Mr. Barnes! And James said he knew you! Twice. I figured he was your guy!”

“Huh,” says Nat. “Who told you to call him James?”

“He did,” you shriek—well, mostly shriek, it’s gone one in the morning and there’s probably people sleeping and you really, really don’t want anyone overhearing this conversation.

“Interesting,” muses Nat. “Not Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

Nat starts walking. There’s a spring in her step, and since it hadn’t been there a few minutes ago, you don’t think Maria’s the one who put it there. “Good night all around, apparently.”

“Naaaaaat,” you groan, falling into step beside her.

“He told you to call him James,” says Nat, smug, as if that makes anything clearer. “I knew you guys would click.”

You almost stop in your tracks. Again.

You stare at her. “Wait. James… is Bucky?”

Nat turns to look at you. “Well. That’s his name. But the only one I’ve ever heard him give to clients is Bucky. Including me.”

Your eyes go wide. You can’t really focus on anything.

“I wondered why the charge was so low,” muses Natasha.

You remember the way he sketched out his current project, the intelligent questions he’d asked about your current case. The way he’d laughed and kept the conversation going for over an hour before he even tried to kiss you.

The way he’d looked at you before leaving, like there was something he wanted to say…

“Nat,” you say slowly, “did… did you set me up with an escort? Or a boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. Did you get his number?”

“He didn’t give it to me, he said putting his number in my phone without permission was skeevy.”

“Okay, so did you give him permission?”

“No,” you start to say, but then you remember.

You kinda did. And then you slept for about forty-five minutes.

You pull the phone out of your jeans pocket so fast, your hands shake.

Quickly you open your contacts.

There’s no James there.

Or Bucky, either.

Your heart sinks, and you bite your lip.

“Sorry, honey,” says Nat quietly.

“It’s fine,” you say, and shove the phone back in your pocket.

It doesn’t go very easily, and when you hear the crunch of paper, you realize why.

Slowly, you pull the crushed business card out of your pocket and stare at it.

The Stark Industries logo jumps out at you, followed by a familiar name listed as Head Engineer. The phone number in the corner is circled several times, as if he was worried you’d miss it, and there’s a notation: Direct Line!

You turn it over and see the handwritten message on the back.

Still skeevy, more so if you’re asleep. Lunch? –JBB

You grin at the card, and then at Nat, and then at the card again, smiling so wide that your face is going to split open.

“Good birthday present?” asks Nat.

“Nope,” you say, pleased, placing the card carefully in an empty pocket, where it won’t slip out again. You hook your arm through Nat’s and head down the street. “Amazing birthday present. I have no idea how you’re going to top it next year.”

“I bet James will have a few ideas,” says Nat smugly, and your laughter echoes down the street.

MCU Masterlist ~ Also available on A03

[thespiritualencourager]

🔴 NO PLACE TO HIDE

“Evil shall slay the wicked, and those who hate the righteous will be condemned. The LORD redeems the soul of His servants, and none of those who take refuge in Him will be condemned.”

‭‭—Psalm ‭34:21-22‬ ‭(NASB‬‬)

[Dig Deeper] : Job 34: 21-22

Have you noticed that when people try to hide from trouble they rarely succeed? A true story relates that a retired couple was alarmed by the threat of nuclear war, so they undertook a serious study of all the inhabited places on the globe. Their goal was to determine what geographical location would be least likely affected by a nuclear war.

They studied books and traveled the world and finally found the place. That Christmas they sent their pastor a card from their new home on the Falkland Islands. Shortly afterwards, however, their “paradise” was turned into a war zone by Great Britain and Argentina. Even though they had tried to hide from trouble, trouble had found them.

Elihu, Job’s youngest friend, made this same observation about God. No one can hide from Him. His all-seeing eyes observe man’s every step. Although Elihu was wrong in his assumption that Job had some hidden sin in his life, he was right to claim that nothing could be concealed from God’s sight. Had Job truly been a worker of iniquity, God would have known it.

Sometimes we feel frustrated because many evildoers are able to cover their wickedness so cleverly that they never can be brought to trial. Other times they simply disappear with their ill-gotten gains and no one can find them. But no one escapes the watchful eye of God. He knows what they’ve done and where they can be found. When the time is right, God will make sure justice is done.

If you are the victim of a miscarriage of justice or know some guilty person who has disguised his wrongdoing, be encouraged. No one can hide from the LORD. The most clever criminal can never conceal his deeds or himself from the watchful eyes of God. God observes all that we do, and He is a just Judge.

Justice is blind, but God isn’t.

— Woodrow Kroll

© Back to the Bible

[thegreenleavesofspringinsunlight]

O LORD, rebuke me not in Thine anger, neither chasten me in Thy hot displeasure.

Have mercy upon me, O LORD; for I am weak: O LORD, heal me; for my bones are vexed.

My soul is also sore vexed: but Thou, O LORD, how long?

Return, O LORD, deliver my soul: oh save me for Thy mercies' sake.

For in death there is no remembrance of Thee: in the grave who shall give Thee thanks?

I am weary with my growning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.

Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies.

Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity; for the LORD hath heard the voice of my weeping.

The LORD hath heard my supplication; the LORD will receive my prayer.

Let ask mine enemies be ashamed and sore vexed: let them return and be ashamed suddenly.

Psalm 6

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Word Count: 888

*Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter

Warnings: A/B/O, non/con elements , dub/con elements, enslavement, pandemic, non/con drug use, collaring/leashing, forced mating, forced breeding, BDSM elements, show-level violence

*Additional warnings to be added

*Square filled: @spnabobingo - Alpha Challenging Alpha

A/N: * UPDATED 3/24

A/N II: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N III: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

GIF by antiquerss

Part II

“Dean's preference of type doesn’t matter, but I want one under eighteen.” 

Sam’s head snapped up in shock. That wasn’t the plan; John was specific that O should be older than Dean and preowned, making them cheaper to repurchase. “Dad, why are you wanting…?” John cut him off with a low growl, provoking Sam’s inner wolf to reciprocate, neither noticing Helms studying their interaction with interest.

Alpha Winchester can’t wholly control this beauty like the other one. The boss will be pleased to learn about these developments. 

“A House O would normally do on paper,” Helms interrupts, “But I know this judge, they will not be satisfied with that alone.”  Both Winchesters have matching, confused expressions, and he continues before John can ask what that means.

 “The judge will require that I follow the statutes in Hibbins and your pack's unusual dynamics: three virile, unmated Alphas with no permanent abode, residing whatever. House O’s have a breed down to need stability, so a Pack Omega would be ideal even if they're as scarce as Phoenix and need the right connections, but there's your social standing.” That remark made Sam snort. It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned their social standing, not so slyly code for a dirt-poor pack. 

“I have a few in the preferred age range we could negotiate over, but I suspect you won’t allow your Subordinate to breed them. The judge probably will consider that a deal breaker. The best option is an altered pre-owned Feral. And fortunate for you, I’ve recently acquired a selection from a fire sale. This way, gentlemen.” 

Dean's wolf whines, watching his pack move farther into the building. At the same time, he can only stand there, as ordered, and observe these unfortunate creatures bartered over as the livestock society considers them. His Alpha knew it would eat at his ingrained, perpetual guilt and is part of the repentance he has to endure because, once vexed, John Winchester never forgave or forgot.

Sam's inner wolf was getting more unquiet the longer they were in this den of iniquity. He knew the only reason John wanted him near was an additional jab at Dean to emphasize his failures. Fuck, he hated their Alpha using Dean's guilt against himself whenever displeased. Sam couldn’t see Dean from where they were, getting pissed that John was now only focusing on a couple of O’s that’d caught his interest.

Sam instinctually knew she was all wrong and, without realizing it, started vocalizing his displeasure. “What’s your problem now?” John barked at him. “They’re undoubtedly your type, sir,” Sam replied with his usual bluntness that made John's jaw clench, grudgingly reflecting on his youngest observation.

As the Dominant Alpha of his pack, John ultimately decided how they functioned, including mating. He cringed internally, remembering the drinking confession inadvertently made to Sam shortly after he presented.

It was a typical night when John was around.

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up some calculus homework. At the same time, John, sprawled on a couch, hovering between drunk and passed-out drunk, started talking about his mother.

Mary used to say three-year-old Dean was a handful, and now about to whelp again; it was too much for an Alpha herself to handle not having the instincts. She insisted John procure a House O to wet nurse the new pup because after extending the nursing of Dean, she wasn’t willing to do that again. John told her they couldn’t afford one, and Mary retorted if they had one, they could hatefuck their anger out on the O instead of John leaving. 

Sams revolted learning that the mother he never knew, one his brother practically worshiped, had wanted to purchase a House O to raise her litter and use them as a fuckslave to keep her mate happy and at home. When John started drunkenly lauding the pleasurable attributes of an Omegas natural slick pussy versus female Alphas, Sam grabbed Dean's CD player, pumped up the volume, and pretended to be working until John eventually passed out.

Shoving the books into his backpack, Sam retreated to their shared bedroom and retrieved the cobbled-together black-market laptop Dean secretly got him. Firing it up, he began researching the history of Omegas, the Hibbins Procurement Act, eventually going down the rabbit hole, finding blogs about how the effort to repopulate Omegas became perverted over the decades and obscure provisions secretly added during extension reviews that the government schools omitted felt his meager dinner about to reappear and bolted for the toilet.

Dean came rolling later, finding the laptop open on the bed, and immediately started worrying. His brother never left it out when their dad was around, followed the scent of sickness to find Sam lying on the bath floor, looking like he’d picked up an illness. Dean cleans him up, then tucks Sam into bed, diligently watching over him the rest of the night.

Surveying the area for hidden trouble, Sam catches an irresistible scent. His inner wolf hurls itself frantically against its cage of skin and bone, growling home home home in his mind. Flicking an eye towards his Alpha, whom Helms had distracted by another O. Without a second thought, Sam follows the wolf’s instincts, slowly backs towards the door left ajar, and slips through unnoticed.

Part III

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24  @flamencodiva    @lassie-bird @nancymcl   @spnbaby-67   @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm

[yieldfruit]

Let no man ever persuade you that any religion deserves to be called the Gospel, in which repentance toward God has not a most prominent place. That is no Gospel in which repentance is not a principal thing. It is the Gospel of man – not of God. It comes from earth – not from heaven. It is not the Gospel at all – it is rank antinomianism and nothing else. So long as you hug your sins, and cleave to your sins, and will have your sins – your sins are not forgiven. So long as you do not repent of sin, the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ is no Gospel to your soul. Christ is a Savior from sin – not a Savior for man in sin. If a man will have his sins, the day will come when that merciful Savior will say to him, “Depart from Me, you worker of iniquity! Depart into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matt. 25:41.)

J.C. Ryle

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Fool Says There is No God

1 The fool has said in his heart, “There is no Elohim.” They have done corruptly, And they have done abominable unrighteousness; No one does good. 2 Elohim looked down from the heavens on the children of men, To see if there is a wise one, seeking Elohim. 3 They have all turned aside; They have together become filthy; No one is doing good, not even one. 4 Have the workers of wickedness no knowledge, Who eat up my people as they eat bread, And do not call on Elohim? 5 There they are in great fear, Where no fear was, For Elohim shall scatter the bones Of him who encamps against you. You shall put them to shame, For Elohim has rejected them. 6 O that the deliverance of Yisra’ĕl Would be given out of Tsiyon! When Elohim turns back the captivity of His people, Let Ya‛aqoḇ rejoice, let Yisra’ĕl be glad. — Psalm 53 | The Scriptures 2009 (TS2009) The Scriptures 2009 Copyright © 2009 Institute for Scripture Research. All Rights reserved. Cross References: Leviticus 26:17; 2 Chronicles 15:2; Psalm 10:4; Psalm 58:3; Psalm 59:2; Jeremiah 30:3; Amos 9:14; Micah 3:2 Romans 3:10-11

[brenda-walsh-ministries]

It's Not Too Late

Do you get frustrated because it seems no matter how hard you try you keep making the same bad choices over and over again? the problem is this: anytime you take your eyes off Christ, you are lost! Unless you are walking with Jesus and holding His hand, failure is certain. Without Holy Spirit guidance, you’ll make bad choices and mistakes and because of human tendency to sin, it WILL happen. You simply cannot live a godly life without a close relationship with Jesus Christ! If you’ve drifted so far away from God that you think it’s too late, think again! God is a God of forgiveness and a God of second chances! All you need to do is cry out, “Jesus, save me!” Those three words are the most powerful prayer you can pray. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done - it’s not too late! If you have hurt your loved ones, destroyed your marriage, stole from your co-worker, fell off the wagon after being clean and sober, or any other wrongful act reach out and take God’s outstretched hand, and start over again! The Bible says in Daniel 9:9, “The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him.” It doesn’t matter your transgression, or how low you have fallen, it’s not too late! Jesus paid the price for your sins on Calvary and He forgives. He loves you unconditionally and will welcome you back into His arms of safety. The Bible says in Ephesians 1:7, “In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace.” Starting over may seem impossible, but with God “all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). If you have drifted away from God,  make the choice today to start over by confessing your sins and accepting God’s forgiveness. It’s not too late. Text: Ephesians 2:4-6, Psalm 6:4, Hebrews 10:17, Acts 3:19

Bible Texts:

Ephesians 2:4-6 KJV - But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;) And hath raised [us] up together, and made [us] sit together in heavenly [places] in Christ Jesus:

Psalm 6:4 KJV - Return, O LORD, deliver my soul: oh save me for thy mercies' sake.

Hebrews 10:17 KJV - And their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.

Acts 3:19 KJV - Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord;

[poweredinpeace]

Exposing crimes but convicting none! The Devils illusion of cleaning up a problem. Never fix a problem make the problem bigger by investigating it!

The junk food obese society, sugar high in the name of health food, lose fat by taking a pill. Clean up crime while living in it. Put the

most corrupt in charge to stop evil in the name of lawlessness! Drunk on the blood of stupidity!

Prov. 18:5 To be partial to the faces of the wicked is not good, nor to deprive the innocent of justice.

Prov. 21:15 It is joy to the righteous to do justice; but it is a destruction to the workers of iniquity.

Prov. 28:5 Evil men don't understand justice; but those who seek Yahweh understand it fully.

[hiswordsarekisses]

“Lord, how long will the wicked, How long will the wicked triumph? They utter speech, and speak insolent things; All the workers of iniquity boast in themselves. They break in pieces Your people, O Lord, And afflict Your heritage. They slay the widow and the stranger, And murder the fatherless. Yet they say, “The Lord does not see, Nor does the God of Jacob understand.” Understand, you senseless among the people; And you fools, when will you be wise? He who planted the ear, shall He not hear? He who formed the eye, shall He not see? He who instructs the nations, shall He not correct, He who teaches man knowledge? The Lord knows the thoughts of man, That they are futile. Blessed is the man whom You instruct, O Lord, And teach out of Your law, That You may give him rest from the days of adversity, Until the pit is dug for the wicked. For the Lord will not cast off His people, Nor will He forsake His inheritance. But judgment will return to righteousness, And all the upright in heart will follow it. Who will rise up for me against the evildoers? Who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity? Unless the Lord had been my help, My soul would soon have settled in silence. If I say, “My foot slips,” Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up. In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul.” Psalms‬ ‭94‬:‭3‬-‭19‬

[purepurposefulprayer]

Oh Jonah Generation

God doesn’t play about His children—

His children who are fasting and praying,

Weeping and seeking Him first, who cry out for His mercy,

Who rejoice at His goodness and look to Heaven at the sound of His voice.

Oh Jonah Generation—

You who say, “I do not want to serve God,”

Though you hear His voice.

Oh Jonah Generation—

Who flee from the call of God while your cities perish.

You see the unhoused rising,

You hear the traumatized children crying,

You witness the widow and orphan dying,

Yet you are not about your Father’s business.

Oh Jonah Generation—

Consider the Good Samaritan,

Who saw the need and, with grace, leaned into the Lord.

Oh Jonah Generation, will you continue to question God like Job did?

Will you keep your shoes on in My holy presence?

Will you speak against the blessed move of God, like My servant Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, did?

Many of you claim to serve Me, claim to love Me, claim to be part of My body—My church, My bride—

But you will hear: “Depart from Me, you workers of iniquity. I did not know you.”

You, Jonah Generation,

Whose zeal for God has grown cold while you run away.

You who fail to see that there is more for you than against you.

You who cower to giants.

You who wither in the face of your vices and find shame in the glow of your devices.

Oh Jonah Generation—

Like the prophet Balaam, you walk after the wickedness of this world while worshiping filth.

The ministry of the donkey is upon you.

You who won’t heed My Word,

You who won’t heed My messengers,

You who won’t turn from your wicked ways with a humble heart—

The slop of the prodigal is your portion.

But as for My people called by My name—

Just like Jonah found grace in the depths,

I will plough the depths of your heart and call forth from within you a Gideon Generation—

A generation who will see the least of these come forth to declare My Word,

To right the ship of families, of tribes, and of nations.

My Word does not return void—

It will cut both ways as you hear it and share it.

Will you be found wanting, as the kings of Babylon?

Will you eat grass for seven years before you are humbled?

Will you pass on your sin to your children’s children?

Will they be able to read the writing on the wall?

For just as My servant Daniel witnessed the rise and fall of kings and kingdoms—

If you do not repent,

If your wicked ways stand,

If you disregard the widow and the orphan,

If you continue to compound the sound of the blood crying from the ground—

You will witness My vengeance on your land.

I love with a great love, and I hate with a great hate, says a jealous God.

You have been found wanting.

⸻

Bible Passages:

Here are relevant Scriptures to the themes and figures mentioned:

1. Jonah’s Rebellion – Jonah 1:1–3

2. The Good Samaritan – Luke 10:25–37

3. Job’s Questioning of God – Job 38:1–3; Job 42:1–6

4. Zechariah’s Doubt – Luke 1:18–20

5. “Depart from Me” – Matthew 7:21–23

6. Gideon’s Calling – Judges 6:11–16

7. More for You than Against You – 2 Kings 6:16

8. Balaam and the Donkey – Numbers 22:21–33

9. The Prodigal Son – Luke 15:11–32

10. If My People… – 2 Chronicles 7:14

11. God’s Word Doesn’t Return Void – Isaiah 55:11

12. Nebuchadnezzar Eats Grass – Daniel 4:28–33

13. Writing on the Wall – Daniel 5:5–31

14. Widow and Orphan – James 1:27; Isaiah 1:17

15. Blood Crying from the Ground (Cain and Abel) – Genesis 4:10

16. God’s Jealousy – Exodus 34:14

17. You Have Been Weighed and Found Wanting – Daniel 5:27

[craftingcreatures]

"When the wicked spring as the grass, and when all the workers of iniquity do flourish, it is that they shall be destroyed for ever; but thou, Lord, are most high forevermore." (Psalm 92:7-8)

[walkwithgod07]

53 The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. Corrupt are they, and have done abominable iniquity: there is none that doeth good.

2 God looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, that did seek God.

3 Every one of them is gone back: they are altogether become filthy; there is none that doeth good, no, not one.

4 Have the workers of iniquity no knowledge? who eat up my people as they eat bread: they have not called upon God.

5 There were they in great fear, where no fear was: for God hath scattered the bones of him that encampeth against thee: thou hast put them to shame, because God hath despised them.

6 Oh that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion! When God bringeth back the captivity of his people, Jacob shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad.

[welcome-to-ratterrock]

I'd imagine there's some crazy ahh gossip at- well-

The crimson cushion, den of iniquity(I think that's it?-), it y'know that

I feel like Levi would be one of them mice/people that FULL ON be LISTENING to the tea, being sneaky or not. Then tell his bbgs (Louis, Abe, maybe Sage) a out the tea he just got

I feel like Padraic is like that too lol

Madame Mickle, the esteemed lady who runs the Crimson Cushion, makes certain her workers report to her on all little crumbs of information, whether they be tasty or bland - you never know when the information can be used later, after all, and she’s a business woman above all else. If some of her works, like the charming Mister Maisel, are naturally adept at scouting out gossip and not getting caught? How fortunate for her.

And while Levi and Louis love to talk shop, they got to be careful about when and where and to whom they say such things. Thankfully, Mr. Padraic Regal is able to ease their concerns with his usual charm and some carefully applied coin…

And Locke? Gossip is a key part of his profession. He won’t do it himself, but he picks up on everything others divulge.