#tell him god will provide a lamb but knowing that god already has

[100percentdirtball]

maybe it’s because i’m a faggy little writer and not a woman of faith, but i really really thought the point of the story about isaac and abraham was just to make you really live inside a man who spent three days walking with his son knowing that at the end he would die, and waking up every morning for the rest of his life and looking his son in the eyes and knowing that he was willing to kill him. how is this not a horror story.

[hauntedhokage]

a welcome confession

Priest!Nanami Kento/Fem!Reader and some Yuuji Itadori/Fem!Reader (some Sukuna/Fem!Reader)

act i of a lamb's devotion | act ii not posted | act iii: salvation | ao3 series

summary: an introduction to the town’s new priest and an evening with your best friend bring about the most interesting confessional you think you will ever experience. 

word count: 4.3k

warnings: MDNI, alternate universe - no jujutsu, sex in an alleyway, use of “good girl”, “little one”, “little lamb”, unprotected sex, hair pulling, Sukuna talks a bit, priest kink, blasphemy up the ass, improper use of prayer and a confessional booth, description of sexual acts, male masturbation, mentions of a small age gap (around sevenish years, reader is in her early-mid 20’s and Nanami is in his early thirties), mentions of demons, reader has both parents, 

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A new face in town was a big deal. Your return to town was also a big deal, which made you grateful for the new priest who pulled the attention away from you and onto him. You felt for the guy, but you also couldn’t be bothered too much because your mother was very concerned with how you’d find a suitable partner now that you were back in the small town and your father wanted you to use your education to get a better job than just bar tending at the local dive.

The new priest gave them something else to talk about when you stopped by for breakfast, and that was just fine. 

“Oh, honey, you just have to come with us to Mass. Father Kento delivers a wonderful sermon.” Your mother had said, gently patting your hand in her own way of telling you that she missed you going to church with her. Your father had only looked at you before drinking more of his coffee, and you’d sighed before agreeing. But you knew that to take the sacrament you’d need to go to confession, and that has you going to the church on your way to the bar one evening. 

It looked the same as it did before you’d left, but you supposed churches never change. Maybe got fresh coats of paint, pews replaced as they reached their end of life, but never a true overhaul. Not the church. There was still the dent in the wall from where your middle school boyfriend had fallen headfirst while trying to act drunk off the communion wine. Some things don’t change - churches were one of those things.

“Good evening.” The greeting has you turning, adjusting the way the strap of your bag sits on your shoulder and you almost choke on air when you see the man who had to be Father Kento. Priests weren’t supposed to be handsome; how could they guide their congregation to resist temptation if they themselves were the temptation? Maybe this was a test? Did you already fail?

“Uh, h-hi- hello. You must be Father Kento?”

“I am,” he nods, resting a hand on his hip as you take a step closer. “And who might you be, little lamb?”

And you introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends in a firm handshake as you explain who your parents were to provide more recognition. It clicks, and there’s additional recognition in his face that tells you that he’d been given a heads up about you - or at least told that your mother would love to see you in the church again. She was very open about how she felt, never anything truly negative but she wanted the best for you and thought you’d find that in the light of the Lord.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was wondering when you held confessionals, Father. Before they were on Saturdays in the early evening, has that changed?”

“No, I still hold confessionals at that time. I also try to hold confessionals before the youth group starts on Wednesdays, but you can always stop by whenever you’d like. God’s house is always open.”

“Yeah, I need to confess before Sunday. If I can’t take the sacrament the town will crucify me, so…” you trail off, knowing that what you said was likely the worst thing you could say to a priest besides confessing that you wanted to climb him like a tree. You needed to leave, plain and simple, before you ended up making a total ass of yourself in front of the hot priest. “But, uh, I’ve gotta run to work. Thank you for talking with me for a moment, and welcome to town, Father.”

“God be with you little one. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The bar you spent your evenings at was small. You wouldn’t call it a dive, it was just the only real option that wasn’t the strip club on the other side of your small town or drinking at home. You were told that business picked up when word got around that you were working there, as your father’s friends and some others you’d grown up with were curious as to what the hell you were doing back here. If they asked, you were just feeling homesick and wanted to make sure your grandmother’s house didn’t go uninhabited (since you knew your mother wouldn’t sell it).

It was easy work, you liked it. 

“Hey, pretty lady.”

And then there was Yuuji. Your childhood best friend, the boy you’d on-off dated through high school, your adult best friend and the only person you know who fully understands how you feel about being back in town. He was your favorite person, always stopping into the bar to say hi and have a drink - always tipping nicely even though you put the cash back into his wallet after your shift. Right now there wasn’t anything serious between you, but the sex was incredible now that you’d separated for university and come back with other experiences. If you thought hard enough about it, you could probably see yourself falling into the small town curse and marrying him. That was just how things worked around here. 

“Hi, Yuuji. How was the shop today?”

“Busy,” he laughs, accepting the glass of water you hand him with a grateful smile. “But Mother’s Day is around the corner, y’know.”

“Yeah, which reminds me-”

“I saved an arrangement for you. I know you said you were working on your thesis all day.”

“Yeah,” you mumble with a sigh, leaning forward against the counter as he does. “You wanna come over tonight?”

“You know I do. But I wanna do something with you tonight.”

“Do what?” 

He leans in closer, gesturing for you to do the same. You comply, leaning forward so that you were basically laying on the bar so he could properly get close to your ear to whisper, “I wanna fuck you in the back alley.”

“Yuuji,” you whisper back, gently swatting his arm when he lets out a small laugh. “You’re so bad. What if someone sees?”

“Who’s gonna be snooping around by the dumpster at one in the morning? I’ve been thinking about you all day and I don’t wanna wait until we get to a house.”

And you don’t stop him after your shift, grateful for the way he catches on when you lock the front door of the bar first before going between the bar and the bank next door to get to the back door to lock it. The keys are still in your hand when he’s got you pressed against the cold brick wall, his kiss bordering on frantic as his hands travel your body to the button of your jeans. 

“Wanna fuck you from behind so I don’t have to take these off all the way, you gonna let me?”

Of course you would. There were logistical reasons why it’d be the best way, but you can’t think clearly enough to list them after he’s got you turned against the wall and your pants down around your thighs. When did Yuuji get so fast?

“You’re already soaked, girl,” he groans, teeth grazing against your jawline. “Don’t have time to finger you, just need to get inside you.”

And you don’t complain when you feel the blunt tip of his cock graze your clit before dragging back along your slit until he’s teasing your entrance. Only for a moment, then he’s pushing inside while his fingers dig into the soft flesh at your hips. His pace is bruising from the start, everything about the way his body touches yours rough and consuming.

“Don’t ruin that pretty face on the brick, I’d never forgive you.”

If that was a concern, he’d offer something to protect your skin since Yuuji was always so sweet - even when he was impatient. But you supposed that maybe the environment and potential for exposure had him on edge to the point where he wasn’t thinking clearly. Not that you had much time to think for yourself, as the immediate quick pace he set did well to clear any consideration for his behavior as his hips knocked into your ass with bruising force. You’re trying your best to keep quiet, but the few muffled moans that snuck out from behind your hand were enough to have one of those large hands grab the back of your neck much like a kitten would be grabbed for corrective actions.

“Keep quiet,” he hisses in your ear, his voice low and warning of impending danger. “Don’t want anyone finding us, do we?”

You can only shake your head, earning a “good girl” growled into your ear that has your knees weaker than they already were and him chuckling at the desperate whimper you let out when his hand moves from your hip to play with your clit. 

“Come for me like the little slut you are, and I’ll fill you like you want so badly.”

You don’t fully remember how you got home. You’d basically blacked out after the second round in the alley, returned to coherency as your back hit your mattress with Yuuji easily climbing onto you while removing the rest of his clothes. It was everything you wanted, what you were convinced you needed, so you’d never complain when he bit down hard enough to break skin or dug his fingernails in deep enough to draw blood - you’d never complain when Yuuji let himself go. It was nice that he trusted you enough to allow himself to relax with you. 

You didn’t really appreciate how mean he could get sometimes, but he was always so sweet to you outside of sex that you supposed it could be forgiven. People said things they didn’t totally mean when they got lost in the moment, perhaps it was just that? You wouldn’t want to make him feel bad, which you knew would happen should it get mentioned, so you were just going to leave it alone until he said something truly hurtful. No harm, no foul - right? 

“Hey, pretty girl.” Yuuji murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep and his hand carefully rubbing your side.

“Hi Yuuji,” you whisper, catching his hand to hold in your own and bringing it to rest against your chest. He was warmer than he had been the night before, more cuddly and like his normal self. What had happened last night? “Doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You okay?”

“Yeah. Little sore but that’s normal after a night with you.” 

“Want me to kiss it better?”

“No, you’re good, but can we lay here for a minute?” You feel small asking him something like that despite him being in your bed in your house. Maybe it was how cold he seemed last night before getting you into bed for another round, or that dark glint in his eye that you know you saw when you looked back at him in the alley. But he tells you that he wants to be with you for as long as he can, adjusts how you laid in his arms and presses his forehead into your neck and you’re feeling that warmth again that makes you feel the opposite of small. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I just feel bad that you’re hurting because of me. I honestly feel like I blacked out during it,” he mumbles into your shoulder, gently peppering your skin with kisses. “Like I was there, but watching and not actually doing. It was good though?”

“It was great and you’ve got nothing to feel bad about, but let’s not make a habit out of fucking in alleyways.”

“But it was hot, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmur into your pillow, truly content to simply lie there with his warmth at your back. Any uneasiness you’d had about his behavior from the night before has dissipated, the sweetness emanating from him doing a great job of eliminating any bad feelings about him. 

“It’s really nice having you back.” He comments after a moment of quiet, something that had you humming softly as you considered that. It was nice to see him, but you’d hoped for more for both of you. More than this small town and living in the houses your grandparents bought. Bartending while trying to find something better that actually used the degree you worked so hard for while he ran a flower shop - you always thought that the two of you would leave and never come back. Maybe find each other again, but not here. 

“Still not sure if I share that sentiment, Yuuji,” you whisper, giving his arm a gentle squeeze as you feel him kiss your neck. His lips linger, and you can feel his breath against your skin as he waits for you to continue your thought. “I feel so small here, y’know? Like, I felt small out there too but it wasn’t suffocating like it can be when you’re here.”

“No, I get it. Out there you can do anything, be anyone. Here you’re just the same kid you always were, and you don’t really get to grow up until the people who made you a child leave in some way or another.”

He absolutely understands, and it’s relieving to have somebody else who knew what you were feeling about being back in your hometown. Like you; Yuuji had also gotten out and explored, went to university and had a life that wasn’t this small town. 

And just like you, he’d been sucked back in. 

He never talked about the true reason, just said his grandpa needed him and then he stayed. Too much here that he’d inherited that needed to be managed, like the flower shop, and he couldn’t leave it all or else that would be disgracing his grandpa’s last wishes. That was how he always was, though. Self sacrificing until the end. 

You’d heard from some mutual friends who went to the same school as him that Yuuji had gotten really sick, knocked out of commission for at least a week and then he disappeared for a while. It was only when he’d posted on social media about his grandfather’s passing that anybody knew where he really was. But he wouldn’t talk about it, and any questioning of what happened just had him shrugging it off as being unimportant. He was fine now, that was what mattered.

But maybe he wasn’t fine? You can’t help but think back to the way his mood shifted so quickly last night; how the man who laid in your bed until he had to go open his shop was a completely different person than the man who fucked you in an alley. Something had clearly happened, and you’re afraid to ask him just what it was that he was trying to hide from you. 

The church is quiet when you enter. One of the older women your grandmother had been friends with was leaving as you were heading up the front steps, stopping to tell you how nice it was to see you back at the church and in town again, then leaving you with a kiss on your cheek and a promise to pray for you. Typical for that generation of women in town, and you dreaded the day your mother and her circle evolved into touchy old ladies who were very open about their opinions of the younger ones. 

You hoped you missed that part of becoming an old lady. 

Your grateful that the church is empty, glad that there is nobody around to witness you entering a confessional booth for the first time in years. Grateful that you would only have an audience of one (spiritually two?) on this afternoon. 

Two knocks are placed against the wood surface of the door, the wood a new, darker version of what once had stood there and missing the various dents and scratch marks from decades of use. Even the seat in the booth had been replaced, the aging cracked bench replaced with a cushion should you want to sit rather than kneel. 

You choose to kneel, performing the sign of the cross as you take a deep breath to settle your nerves. 

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been…” fuck, how long had it been since you last confessed? Your freshman year of college and maybe just a month or so in? “A few years, I guess, since my last confession.”

“May I ask why?”

“I confessed once in college, tried to involve myself with the church groups on campus but they were rather radical. Their beliefs didn’t align with what I had been taught, and the priest at the chapel by the school did not feel welcoming to me.”

He hums, and you think you see him nod through the divider in the window that separated your side of the confessional from his. 

“Anyway, I’d like to confess that I have not been actively attending church over the past few years, and have been committing many sinful acts.”

And you tell him everything you could recall, every detail that weighed heavy on your shoulders since returning back to this small town. How you spent more time with a bottle in your hand than a bible, how you let yourself fall victim to many temptations - the biggest ones being lust, gluttony, and sloth. How you partied heavily, often found yourself waking up next to strangers and knew you’d had sex with them. How you didn’t care, and wanted to continue having premarital sex because you enjoyed it. 

You even tell him about Yuuji. You weren’t planning on it, but the words tumble out of your mouth without any true restraint. 

“You’re close with your friend?”

“He’s the only person who gets me,” you reply, looking up from your hands with hope that you’d get to see Father Kento’s face as he listened to you. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to resist temptation when it’s related to him. Even last night, he wanted to do something different and as risky as it was I went with it. Because it was him, y’know?”

“Tell me about it, please.” That…he wasn’t asking for details of your sex life with Yuuji. There was no was a priest would desire details like that. It’s an absurd request. “The only way I can truly absolve you is to know what the true temptation is. Please, let me help you.”

He must have noticed the way you paused. You should have left, you know that you should leave and tell your parents that this new priest was weird and they should stop going to this church. A ton of churches streamed their sermons online, they could do that instead. You could avoid confessionals all together, and get away from this man. 

Those are all things you should have done. 

Instead you confess your latest sin: having sex in an alleyway with Yuuji. And Father Kento wanted details, so you spare none; telling him everything about the event that you could recall while trying to ignore the sound of his increasingly labored breaths that followed the rustling of some of his clothes on the other side of the divider. 

You tell him about how rough Yuuji had been, how much you enjoyed it despite it being a little scary. How he carried you home after giving you a couple of the most mind blowing orgasms and filling you with his cum, only to peel your clothes off in your bedroom for a softer yet still cold second round. 

But you can’t ignore your suspicions about what is happening on the other side of the confessional booth. 

“…Father?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing to give you absolution, little lamb.” Absolution didn’t come with a belt buckle being undone, last you checked. “Do you have any more sins to confess?”

“No, but I fear for sins I may commit later.”

“I’ll protect you from them.” He sounds so certain despite the strain in his voice. Your eyes strain to get a better view of how he was preparing your absolution, but you know penance must come first. “God has spoken to me. He has shown me just how important you are, entrusted me with your road to the heavens.”

You’re not sure how much of this you can believe, but you’re too enamored by the thought of performing such a less act with a priest in the confessional booth to care. This was more than just a scandal, this was excommunication in progress should you be caught in the act. More than that, you’d both likely be banished from the town for this.

But worst of all - you were so turned on it was almost painful to be robbed of the sight of the attractive priest.

Was he big? He had to be, considering the size of the man himself. But was he bigger than Yuuji? Thicker? Was it possible he had any experience despite the vow of celibacy you knew priests had to take? There were so many questions bouncing around in your head that you couldn’t focus on just one, but you’re relieved that you don’t have to when he starts talking again. 

“Your penance, little lamb, is to abstain from those sins. Abstain and pray to our Father God that he may see your willingness to walk the path of his light.”

“Thank you, Father,” you whisper, watching as the light is blocked out by his imposing frame as he stands. His hand is moving at a quick pace, and you can see much better when he moves the wooden screen that was providing minimal anonymity for your confessional. 

“Pray the Act of Contrition for me, and I will give you your absolution.”

You’re practically leaning through the window, wanting to be closer to him and his already weeping cock as you whisper, “Oh, my God.”

How were you supposed to pray a promise to abstain from sinful acts when you got to see a cock like that? Even in the dim lighting you could see it perfectly, looking proud as his hand glided along it to further simulate. Just a taste of that red flushed head would likely have you reeling with all efforts towards this confession wasted. Did you need God’s plan when Father Kento’s cock was practically in your face?

“Continue your prayer.” 

“I am heartily sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all of my sins because of thy punishments,” you continue, but your heart is not in the prayer because now the priest is fucking into his fist and you can’t help but wish it was your mouth he was fucking into. You’d pray your heart out if it meant that you’d be rewarded with a taste of him. “But most of all, because they offend their, my god, who are deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.”

“Amen,” he echoes, and your mouth falls open when the most sultry of groans leaves him. He had to be beautiful when he was about to cum, you’re sure his cheeks flushed and his lips parted so he could breathe properly. “Are you ready to be cleansed of your sins that you came to confess today?”

“Yes, Father, as long as you deem me worthy.” You aren’t expecting him to lower himself to your level, but you’re pleased to see his face in front of yours. He truly was very handsome, and you smile when he leans in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. To feel such intimacy with a supposed holy man who you’d only spoken to once before your confession felt absurd, but there was something very different about Father Kento. It was like he saw right through you, you were sure he did, and you weren’t complaining about it. 

“God will always find you worthy,” he breathes, using his thumb to gently coax your mouth open. His thumb presses against your tongue, and you feel only slightly self conscious when you feel like he’s scrutinizing something before he requests that you leave your mouth open before he stands again and leaves you to watch with an open mouth as he pumps his cock to completion and allow the ropes of warm cum to hit your face and tongue. 

You’re swallowing what had come into your mouth when he kneels before you again, this time his hand coming to rest atop your head as he cracks the faintest of smiles at you. 

“When you feel temptation, little one, you come to me. My job is to help you fight the temptation and resist evil.”

“But don’t you have to maintain celibacy?” You supposed that was probably a stupid question, considering what had just happened and the evidence of the event that was still splattered across your face. But it was still a valid question, considering he was a priest and everything you knew about the priesthood went against the last twenty minutes you’d shared with him in this confessional booth. 

“Sweet lamb, this is not an act of pleasure. It is an act of God.” 

“Of course,” you murmur, closing your eyes as he brings the handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket to carefully wipe his cum from your face. “He’s entrusted you with his plan.”

“He has, and I intend to ensure that you’re protected as he’s requested of me.” He was an interesting priest, that was for sure, but his brand of protection was something you’d happily indulge in. He would allow himself to become your temptation, which might have defeated the purpose, but maybe the intimacy of a holy man was different than anybody else? You’re not sure, and you don’t think to ask the question aloud out of fear that he’d think it was a stupid question - you’d asked enough of those today.

“May I ask you something, lamb?”

“Anything, Father.”

“Do you know anything about something called Sukuna?” 

[chaos-in-the-making]

OK I've had a few hours to process and i HAVE to talk about Lucifer. Cuz like, there's so much that he represents to me as a Christian, and seeing this version of Depressed Single Dad Who Lost His Dream is EVERYTHING.

Because FIRST OF ALL!! This Lucifer is NOT power hungry, or even trying to be the Canon "rebel". He didn't even want to tempt Adam and Eve, he wanted to "gift" them with free will. That is an important difference. The other thing we learn is that HE'S TRIED TO REHAB SINNERS BEFORE. So he is from heaven, and despite what heaven did TO him (alleged victim), he still knows that heaven is better than Hell and wanted to redeem the sinners so they could ascend to a better afterlife.

THAT IS WAY DIFFERENT THAN THE BIBLICAL CANON NARCISSIST WHO WANTED TO BE WORSHIPED THE SAME WAY THAT GOD WAS WORSHIPPED. What are the implications of this???

THAT THE PERCIEVED "EVIL" IS REALLY BEING MISUNDERSTOOD.

Now there is still a clear divide of "good" and "evil" in the way people treat each other, but it is "shades of gray" as Charlie and Emily point out in their duet as far as how to categorize souls. AND LUCIFER ONCE WANTED TO PROVIDE A WAY FOR THOSE SOULS TO BE REDEEMED.

SO WHERE THE FUCK IS JESUS CHRIST?!

No that's not a rhetorical question, because in Biblical Canon, it's only through JESUS that souls are redeemed. Lucifer was never a foil to GOD, as in the Father, but he was the foil to JESUS. So in this show, where we see CROSS IMAGERY my question is ARE WE GONNA SEE JESUS AND HOW DOES HE CONTRIBUTE?!

Now I wouldn't be surprised if God the Father and Christ the Son are not actual people, and maybe just ideas of "pure" and "holiness". And maybe the cross imagery is something that Sinners made up for their religion.

But Lucifer has already made a joke about a "sacrificial lamb", and wants to redeem sinners, something that canonical only JESUS can do. So whatever knowledge the angels are holding back is going to be quite telling. (ALSO CONSPIRACY BUT WHAT IF LUCIFER IS ACTUALLY JESUS I CAN EXPLAIN)

BUT OK BACK TO LUCIFER.

This man who wanted to redeem sinners, (possibly out of guilt because giving Eve the apple made evil take root?) Has now LOST HIS DREAM. After thousands of years of watching the sinners enter Hell, and failing to redeem them, he NO LONGER BELIEVES THEY HAVE HOPE. LUCIFER HAS GIVEN UP ON THE SINNERS.

But Charlie????? Oh, Charlie is young and niave, and has been raised on the (one sided) stories of being able to reach a better place. Charlie is the Youth, the Hope for the future, the daughter of a Dreamer. AND SHE GIVES THAT HOPE BACK TO HER FATHER WHO HAD LOST IT.

Lucifer is stuck in this circle of insanity, making thousands of rubber duckies to pass the time, but we see just how fucking insane he is. Like, the sad pathetic insane, not the sexy insane. But then his daughter pulls him out, and he is confronted with the dream he once had that she has now taken up the mantle of continuing.

AND HE SAYS HOW HE DOESNT WANT HER TO HE CRUSHED. HE HAS INTENTIONALLY SHELTERED HER TO KEEP HER SAFE FROM DISAPPOINTMENT. BUT CHARLIE IS BREAKING THAT CYCLE. SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO BUT SHE DESPERATELY WANTS TO TRY. BECAUSE SHE HAS INHERITED THE HOPE THAT LUCIFER LOST.

AND LUCIFER IS STILL UNCERTAIN ABOUT IF ITS POSSIBLE, BUT LIKE A TRUE LOVING PARENT HE WANTS TO SUPPORT CHARLIE. AND HIM SAYING HE MISSED HER SMILE, AND HOW GRATEFUL HE IS THAT SHE IS HIS DAUGHTER HAS ME GRIPPED IN MY PARENT FEELS.

[leaderlamby]

Daily Sermon #25

Lamb figures it's time to officially go over the rules of the cult.

• No dissenting. - This should be a fairly obvious rule. You must always have full faith in me. If, for some reason, you don't, tell me and I will fix it. No outbursts, no spreading falsehoods, no fear mongering, no stealing from the cult, no selling/giving information to outside sources, etc. All dissenters will be imprisoned until they're fully re-educated. Lamb likes to keep the prisons in an isolated corner of the cult so the dissenters can clearly see all the good followers having the time of their lives and reflect on their decisions. If Lamb decides re-educating a dissenter is futile, they may be subject to execution.

• No worship/support of any members of the Old Faith, or anyone for that matter. - Lamb prohibits the worship of anyone other than themself, but especially so for the Bishops, since they were the ones who killed me. This goes for Narinder, too. You can be nice to him as a fellow cult member, but nothing more. He's the same as the rest of you. The Cult of the Lamb is strictly monotheistic.

• Lamb is the authority. - Meaning that ONLY Lamb is allowed to preach sermons, conduct rituals, assign Followers to menial tasks, assign Followers to missionary work, assign Followers to prison, take confessions, and decide what things get built where. Attempting to do any of these will be viewed as impersonating authority and will result in imprisonment.

• Do not question Lamb's authority. - Any decision Lamb makes is final. You may not always understand it, but don't question it. Lamb is a god and a leader for a reason, they know what's best.

• Do not hide things from Lamb. - Lamb will not force you to give up all your belongings or to tell all your personal information, but when Lamb requests something of you, they expect you to do it. Don't refuse or make an excuse not to, and don't hide what you're doing. This is a sign of distrust, which benefits no one.

• No discrimination of any kind. - Lamb has made this very clear. No racism, no sexism, no homophobia or any of its subsets, no transphobia or any of its subsets, no anti-kins, and no ableism towards any kind of illness or disability. All of my subjects are equal, don't try to divide each other with pointless prejudices. It will be considered heresy and hate speech/crime.

• No exiting the cult. - With the exception of Lamb personally sending you out, like if they assign you as a missionary or convert you to a demon to join them on a crusade. This is because it's highly dangerous in this world and you likely won't make it. This is not an insult, it's Lamb looking out for you. If I send you out for any reason, that means I trust your abilities to keep yourself alive until you return. Otherwise, stay put. Lamb already provides you with everything you need and want, there is no reason to leave.

This is all for now. If Lamb adds more, they'll update this.

Ritual of the Day:

Brainwashing

"Followers will be brainwashed. Faith will be locked at full for 2 days."

[echologname]

Hope for those who feel hopeless

https://www.youtube.com/live/BpkxShLl5vs?si=872e7GuPG9oCcetw&t=25m04s

This is similar to what I went through and I think Christians don't talk enough about this, when we lose faith when we're Jonah and we run away from God, The Prodigal Son who makes a lot of dumb choices out on His own, Gomer Hosea's unfaithful wife, the lost lamb, the people who crucified Jesus when we're God's people but for some reason, we end up doing everything we swore we would never, like when we're Peter denying having Known Jesus, when we give in to the darkness and let it consume our minds and hearts and go from living Godly lives to really sinful ones. Of course after something like that, after drowning in our self destruction, we feel like we're too evil to ever be a part of God's kingdom again, we feel like we're the villains in Bible stories because that's how we felt and acted. It's a steep hill to come to accept God's Grace. Jesus did that hard part, that one we can't do, which is save ourselves. He ALREADY paid for what we've done and will do. It's crazy, we feel we have NO faith anymore, how then can we believe and be saved by faith again? Somehow, it was so easy as kids who barely knew anything. Now we know too much, too much depression and anxiety. So much time has passed, we've forgotten who we are and who God is, how in the world can we get back to where we were so long ago? It's not "how in the WORLD" it's "how in GOD," which I believe all things are possible through Him no matter how badly you messed up because John 1:5 tells us the light will ALWAYS be stronger than the dark and God is faithful and just to forgive (1 John 1:9).

I think after going through something like this, it's easy to fear we had our chance and we squandered it, and there's no longer any hope for salvation. I don't believe that. No matter how much The Enemy tries to get me to think I'm a bad person who can't be redeemed. Because if it was, no Christian would ever be able to rejoice in The Gospel, it would be pointless. I believe if you were God's once, you'll ALWAYS be no matter how you think and feel because God is greater than your thoughts and feelings, He KNOWS your very soul, the parts if you that not even you can see and I believe no power of Earth or Hell can EVER steal you away from Him and His everlasting love, not even you in your imperfection, confusion, stubbornness, anger and sin that made you want to run from Him in the first place. I BELIEVE in the power of His love, I BELIEVE even if you turned away from God, He's true to His promises and will NEVER fail you. I've been reading through my Bible and God has seen Hell, nothing escapes His notice, there are people who've done a lot worse than you and He STILL wanted them, no matter who or how they were. He wants us in our imperfections, doubt, guilt and hatred. The doors are OPEN to you by the blood of Jesus! If He started to be too exclusive about who's fit for His kingdom, He'd be out of people because we're ALL sinners even Godly people like King David, Moses and Elijah.

If you've come BACK to God after a break from Him, be joyful! Now, I'm struggling with that after devoting myself to my Faith again because I DO have fear weighing on me. I was joyful at first but Satan doesn't want me to be and sometimes it can be hard. I've been having horrible intrusive thoughts and yes, the forces of darkness WILL attack you for wanting or trying to be closer to God but God is my shepherd, my guardian and my strength. If it's a battle, then, He'll provide a way to win and to win EVERY battle that'll come my way. It's easy to forget, Earth isn't home, it's the front lines of a war older than time between good and evil and we were born INTO it. The Enemy could have taken my life countless times since the day I was born but I'm STILL standing because of Jesus. I have scars from IVs, getting hit by a car, and body parts that are damaged from stress and chronic illnesses but I'M STILL STANDING because GOD HAS ALWAYS BEEN WITH ME even when I thought I wasn't and didn't want to be. God has always been stronger than the darkness that keeps me prisoner to pain and sorrow. I promise you, He's bigger than ALL of humanity's mistakes combined, so, He can more than forgive your missteps and shortcomings even when they seem so bad in your head.

I trust my Lord. That's all, repent and trust that even if you still feel down, you're forgiven.

May God be with you in all things! 🙂

“The will of God will not take us where the grace of God cannot sustain us.”

Billy Graham

[pastorralffriedrichs]

Will you spend eternity in heaven or hell?

This is the most important message I share here regarding where you will spend eternity:

the only two choices are heaven and hell.

Some of you reading this or who you share this with have not made a decision by faith and God's grace

(Ephesians 2:8-9) to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

Jesus Christ, and His sacrificial death on the cross, is the central and most important fundamental, basic tenet of the Christian faith. Jesus Christ is God’s only plan of eternal salvation for the entire world.

The Bible specifically says, without any other possible interpretation, that there is only one God, one faith, and one way to God the Father – and that is only through Jesus Christ and His sacrificial death on the cross.

Jesus says that He, and only He, is the way, the truth and the life leading to God the Father and that no one comes to the Father except through Him! (John 14:6)

Many people, including some Christians, believe that they can earn their way to heaven and that God the Father honors all people as long as people try to live a good and godly life and try to stay out of trouble.

But the truth is the gospel of Jesus Christ the only way to be right with God is through Jesus Christ and the blood that He shed on the cross.

Like it says in Titus 3:5. “he saved us not because of the righteous things we had done but because of his mercy.”

This is truly the love of God. So many people think that God will love them if we just prove themselves to Him.

But it says in Romans 5:8 “God demonstrates his own love for us while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”

That is truly the good news or as it says in Romans 3:23-24 “for we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God that we are justified by his grace as a gift through the redemption in Christ Jesus.”

That’s the good news that Jesus Christ paid the price.

He paid the debt that we all deserve as a sinner and He made a way for us all to be made right with God, and we can have peace with God because of the blood that Jesus shed.

My friends, Jesus came to pay a debt that was owed for something He never did – sin.

We are the ones who have sinned; yet, He covered the payment.

There's only one way to be sure that one's name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life

(Revelation 20:12)—

by placing one's faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.

There is no possible way for us to earn our salvation.

It is an awesome gift that the Father freely offers to each one of us.

The only requirement is that we receive Jesus Christ as our personal Savior and follow Him. For anyone who hasn't made that decision I love you too much not to tell you the truth as the time is getting short before Jesus' returns for His bride(the church, the body of believers).

We each have a choice, either we accept the free gift of salvation that Jesus provides, and thus experience His power and forgiveness for eternity in heaven.

Or we choose to ignore that gift and spend eternity separated from Him in hell.

Jesus has already done the work.

It’s all about what we choose to do with what Jesus has already done. Have you accepted His gift? If not please make that decision today as "today is the day of Salvation.

(2 Corinthians 6:2) none of our guaranteed tomorrow.

Have you made a decision for Christ because of what you have read here?

If so, please reach out to me as I would love to rejoice with you and with the angels.

https://ralffriedrichs.info

[bond-servant-of-christ-jesus]

Revelation 13:15-18

[15]And it was given to him to give breath to the image of the beast, so that the image of the beast would even speak and cause as many as do not worship the image of the beast to be killed.

[16]And he causes all, the small and the great, and the rich and the poor, and the free men and the slaves, to be given a mark on their right hand or on their forehead,

[17]and he provides that no one will be able to buy or to sell, except the one who has the mark, either the name of the beast or the number of his name.

[18]Here is wisdom. Let him who has understanding calculate the number of the beast, for the number is that of a man; and his number is six hundred and sixty-six.

Revelation 14:9-11

[9]Then another angel, a third one, followed them, saying with a loud voice, "If anyone worships the beast and his image, and receives a mark on his forehead or on his hand,

[10]he also will drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is mixed in full strength in the cup of His anger; and he will be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb.

[11]And the smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever; they have no rest day and night, those who worship the beast and his image, and whoever receives the mark of his name."

2 Thessalonians 2:1-17

[1]Now we request you, brethren, with regard to the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our gathering together to Him,

[2]that you not be quickly shaken from your composure or be disturbed either by a spirit or a message or a letter as if from us, to the effect that the day of the Lord has come.

[3]Let no one in any way deceive you, for it will not come unless the apostasy comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of destruction,

[4]who opposes and exalts himself above every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, displaying himself as being God.

[5]Do you not remember that while I was still with you, I was telling you these things?

[6]And you know what restrains him now, so that in his time he will be revealed.

[7]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.

[8]Then that lawless one will be revealed whom the Lord will slay with the breath of His mouth and bring to an end by the appearance of His coming;

[9]that is, the one whose coming is in accord with the activity of Satan, with all power and signs and false wonders,

[10]and with all the deception of wickedness for those who perish, because they did not receive the love of the truth so as to be saved.

[11]For this reason God will send upon them a deluding influence so that they will believe what is false,

[12]in order that they all may be judged who did not believe the truth, but took pleasure in wickedness.

[13]But we should always give thanks to God for you, brethren beloved by the Lord, because God has chosen you from the beginning for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and faith in the truth.

[14]It was for this He called you through our gospel, that you may gain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.

[15]So then, brethren, stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught, whether by word of mouth or by letter from us.

[16]Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who has loved us and given us eternal comfort and good hope by grace,

[17]comfort and strengthen your hearts in every good work and word.

Matthew 3:2

[2]"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."

Luke 13:3

[3]I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.

[templardom]

The Commiseration of Souls - First Sunday

Reflections on the Strawberry Moon

And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years. Genesis 1:14 (NIV) ✝

Testing the Spirits | 1 John 4:1-5 (ESV)

Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you heard was coming and now is in the world already.

Little children, you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world. They are from the world; therefore they speak from the world, and the world listens to them. We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us. That is how we know the Spirit of truth and the spirit of deception.

The Demons and the Pigs | Luke 8:29-36 (NLT)

Jesus demanded, “What is your name?” “Legion,” he replied, for he was filled with many demons.

The demons kept begging Jesus not to send them into the bottomless pit.

There happened to be a large herd of pigs feeding on the hillside nearby, and the demons begged him to let them enter into the pigs. So Jesus gave them permission.

Then the demons came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the entire herd plunged down the steep hillside into the lake and drowned.

When the herdsmen saw it, they fled to the nearby town and the surrounding countryside, spreading the news as they ran.

People rushed out to see what had happened. A crowd soon gathered around Jesus, and they saw the man who had been freed from the demons. He was sitting at Jesus’ feet, fully clothed and perfectly sane, and they were all afraid.

Then those who had seen what happened told the others how the demon-possessed man had been healed.

Jesus Sends the Seventy-Two | Luke 10:3-12 (NLT)

The Lord now chose seventy-two other disciples and sent them ahead in pairs to all the towns and places he planned to visit. These were his instructions to them: “The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields.

Now go, and remember that I am sending you out as lambs among wolves.

Don’t take any money with you, nor a traveler’s bag, nor an extra pair of sandals. And don’t stop to greet anyone on the road. “Whenever you enter someone’s home, first say, ‘May God’s peace be on this house.’ If those who live there are peaceful, the blessing will stand; if they are not, the blessing will return to you. Don’t move around from home to home. Stay in one place, eating and drinking what they provide. Don’t hesitate to accept hospitality, because those who work deserve their pay.

“If you enter a town and it welcomes you, eat whatever is set before you. Heal the sick, and tell them, ‘The Kingdom of God is near you now.’

But if a town refuses to welcome you, go out into its streets and say, ‘We wipe even the dust of your town from our feet to show that we have abandoned you to your fate. And know this—the Kingdom of God is near!’ I assure you, even wicked Sodom will be better off than such a town on judgment day.

The Joyful Return | Luke 10:17-21 (NLT)

When the seventy-two disciples returned, they joyfully reported to him, “Lord, even the demons obey us when we use your name!”

“Yes,” he told them, “I saw Satan fall from heaven like lightning! Look, I have given you authority over all the power of the enemy, and you can walk among snakes and scorpions and crush them. Nothing will injure you. But don’t rejoice because evil spirits obey you; rejoice because your names are registered in heaven.”

At that same time Jesus was filled with the joy of the Holy Spirit, and he said, “O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for hiding these things from those who think themselves wise and clever, and for revealing them to the childlike. Yes, Father, it pleased you to do it this way.

[seekfirst-community]

The First Martyrs to shed their blood for Christ are the Holy Innocents. The blood of martyrs is the seed of Christianity.

"When the magi had departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said,

“Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, and stay there until I tell you. Herod is going to search for the child to destroy him.”

"Joseph rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed for Egypt. He stayed there until the death of Herod, that what the Lord had said through the prophet might be fulfilled, Out of Egypt I called my son.

"When Herod realized that he had been deceived by the magi, he became furious. He ordered the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had ascertained from the magi. Then was fulfilled what had been said through Jeremiah the prophet:

"A voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loud lamentation; Rachel weeping for her children, and she would not be consoled, since they were no more." (Matthew 2: 13 - 18).

Wednesday December 28th on the 4th Day of the Solemnity of Christmas is the feast of the Holy Innocents.

Who are the Holy Innocents?

These are about 20 babies whom Herod slaughtered in an effort to kill the the Infant Jesus.

"The innocents were slaughtered as infants for Christ; spotless, they follow the Lamb, and sing for ever: Glory to you, O Lord." (Entrance Antiphon).

"[Herod] ordered the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under." (Matthew 2: 16).

Why this feast and why does it matter?

#1 The Church celebrates the memory of about 20 baby boys whom King Herod slaughtered in his attempt to kill Jesus. These children are martyrs who gave their lives for Christ and are members of the Communion of the Saints.

#2. This feast is perhaps a rude reminder to all of us that the Mission of Jesus is to be Savior and Redeemer. Salvation from Sin and Redemption from the debt of Sin was purchased at the cost of blood.

#3. The massacre of the Holy Innocents teaches us the mystery of God's mighty, merciful and mysterious Providence.

God could have eliminated the tyrant Herod, but instead He willed His Son and family to go into exile in Egypt in a cold winter.

Other instances of God's mysterious providence:

#1 God allowed Adolf Hitler to rule for 12 years and caused the suffering and death of millions.

#2 God hardened the heart of Pharaoh and Pharaoh's stubbornness caused the death of many Egyptians.

#3 Other tyrants that were given long ropes are: Nero, Napoleon, Stalin, etc.

Long-suffering is part of God’s divine attributes. Some people have taken this for God's weakness. NO!!! Scripture says: "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength." (1 Corinthians 1: 25). And "We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose." (Romans 8: 28).

The Church honors the Holy Innocents because they "were slaughtered as infants for Christ; spotless, they follow the Lamb and sing for ever: Glory to you, O Lord." (Entrance Antiphon).

"The movement of persecution that is about to break out against My Church will focus on three objects. In fact, this has already begun. I will be attacked in My priests; they represent My Eucharistic Face. The face of the priesthood is My Face, once again mocked and covered with mud, spittle, and blood. I will be dishonoured in the Sacrament of My Body and Blood. You will see an increase of sins against the mysteries of My Body and Blood: sacrileges, desecrations, and mockeries. I will be attacked in the weakest and most vulnerable members of My Mystical Body. This too has already begun, but it will increase until it reaches proportions that will oblige My Father to avenge the blood of His beloved innocents." (IN SINU JESU, Wednesday, November 12, 2008).

Daily Bible Verse @ Seekfirstcommunity.com

[messwriting]

Written for the Whorehouse Compilation [RAW DOG 1080p] (Try Not To CUM) Collab:  Masterlist.

Open wide: the Doctor is IN

Shirabu Keijiro x Female Reader 

Doctor Shirabu gives you a very special treatment on your first appointment.

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Note: I’m sorry for being this late to the party. The cursed porn search we all have looked at least once (some... lots of times hehehe). THANKS TO @dymphnasprose​ for the little porn search bar i love them so much ;-; <3 My (very) late contribution to the Whorehouse Server CUMpilation. Thanks for letting me participate Miki! Doctor Shirabu is ready to see you now. 

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT.  CONSENSUAL NON-CONSENT.  DOCTOR/PATIENT. MEDICAL PLAY. INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHES. WRONG GYNECOLOGICAL EXAM. Breast exam but not really. Corruption Kink.  MEDICAL KINK. Use of medical equipment in inappropriate ways. ANAL PLAY. Established relationship clarified at the end: role-play. Poorly researched medical stuff. Overuse of Good Girl. 

Word count: ~4.4k 

You’re such a cute little thing.

Sitting on top of the big, pristine examination table, waiting for him while wearing an easy summer dress, square heels dangling from one side to the other as your hands fumble with your own fingers on your lap, eyes flying to him immediately as he enters the close space - big, bright eyes shining in the dull white hospital room, framed by beautiful eyelashes and soft makeup. Your tempting lips are almost deployed of lipstick from as much your teeth have punished the plush flesh.

“Hello.” Shirabu greets you with an easy smile, one that he doesn’t really use despite the little effort it takes.

“Oh, hi Doctor.” There’s an anxious smile on your lips and Shirabu feels a tingle start on his fingertips, climb his arm, spread down his back to burn in his guts. You’re so pretty when you’re nervous.

“How are we today? You can come and sit by the chair first.” Shirabu moves calmly, closing the door behind him; carefully turning the key without bringing attention. He’s still testing the waters but he can gather that you’re a trusting one, waiting to hear from him what exactly you need to do and then do it. 

“Ahhh, um… I’m good, just came for my annual checkup.” You say while taking a seat on the chairs, only risking one look up at his face, then lowering those eyes onto his coat, clearly reading his name. Your expression seems surprised… but pleased. Is it because he’s young or because he’s attractive? Shirabu can’t decide, but there’s a clear smile in his lips as he looks you over, then circles his way to sit behind the table.

“Is this your first time here? If not, when was your last appointment?” 

“Actually,” Your eyes meet his when your head angles up and you scurry them down as if you’re embarrassed. Your lips are once again suffering under your teeth before you free them and speak, “It’s my first. Like, ever.”

“Oh,” Shirabu let’s slip with a breath. There’s too much joy in that little sigh and in his tone when he asks, “Really?”

Your head goes up and down first, fingers fumbling, then you seem to remember that you need to speak with him, “Yes.”

“Do you have a medical file here already? Any complaints I should know?” Shirabu covers the usual bases first, calmly checking his agenda and time, how much he can have with you and how he can extend it.

“Hm… No complaints, except…” You fall silent for a moment and Shirabu can feel the burning in your face all the way through the table. 

“It’s okay.” He’s quick to tranquilize you, “I’m your Doctor, you can tell me anything.”

“I think my birth-control is… uh, how can I say this? Making me… a little numb?” You tell him in a low voice, a hint of worry slipping through as you try to send him a little embarrassed smile as if you’re worried he may feel bad about it. 

Shirabu is quick to smile back, so pleased at how you relax and melt back into yourself at the sight of it. He can’t help but think you’re such a good girl. “You didn’t answer the first question, though.”

 “It’s my first time in the clinic as well. A friend of mine recommended it to me.” You give a precious little giggle as if your nervousness scrambles your train of thought and Shirabu thinks it’s endearing, especially the fact that you’re a pretty little thing who doesn’t know best and you’ve ended right on his lap. 

Well, he plans to make the most of it.

“Hmm, understood. So, Miss… Is it Miss?” Shirabu sends you a charming smile, one he knows it’s good, and your eyes seem to flash with something at the sight of it, your throat bobbing right before your lips split in a little smile.

“Yes,” you giggle his way with a little roll of your eyes, as if it’s obvious and he makes a surprised face along with another dazzling smile. Shirabu has smiled more in the last ten minutes than n his whole week and he’s face will soon protest.

“Really? You’re so pretty, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had already planted a ring on your finger.” God knows he would, and as fast as he could, too. 

You bite at your lips to avoid a smile planting itself in your face, eyes fleeing from his as your hands fist your dress and you left a little breathy laugh out. As if he’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay Miss, so since it’s your first time doing this check-up, I’ll need you to do a few things for me, okay?”

“Sure, Doctor.” God, that shouldn’t mess him up as it does, the hairs on his arm standing on edge at the delicious sound of it in your voice.

“I’ll need you to go to that bathroom right there, strip all your clothes including underwear and change into the paper gown that’s right on top of a cabinet there. Leave the opening to the front and then come back to sit at that examination table right there. Can you do this for me?”

“Of course, Doctor.” Warmth spreads from his body, rolls thick with his blood around his limbs and starts concentrating south. Jesus, you’ll be his demise like this.

“Good. Now go.”

Once you’re out of sight, Shirabu makes arrangements. And when you come back, clad in nothing but a paper-thin gown that leaves little to the imagination, he buttons his coat as long as it goes. Just to be sure.

His eyes thread carefully over your barely concealed body, enthralled by how your breathing comes in quick puffs of air, goosebumps rising on your skin under the cold temperature of the room. Pressing against the warmth of his palm at the slight touch of his fingers on your shoulder. 

“You can sit at the examination table. We’ll start with a breast exam before you lie down, okay?” Shirabu knows his voice is sweeter than usual; carefully built in a trusty tone, words rolling off his mouth a little deeper, a little low - all just so he can assure he has your attention. 

 “I’ll start with a breast exam and then you can lie down.” He explains his steps one by one, so when he opens the front of the barely existing paper gown, all you do is take a sharp breath and slowly let the air out. So nice. Such a good girl for him.

He carefully brings his fingers to glide over the outskirts of your breasts, pressing on your flesh with steady, slow to warm digits. Shirabu feels as you fidget slowly when he circles the flesh once, slow and deliberate with the pressure he applies. “I’m checking for any unusual lumps around the tissue,” Shirabu tells that so close to your face he can feel the warm wave of air your gasp lets out at his words, and he pretends the little taste does nothing for him despite the way his blood boils in his veins. 

He does the same circular motion a second time, then a third time in reverse, and all but grin in his self-satisfied way when he notices the shy nub stand to attention. Your brows are furrowed even from such little stimulation, throat bobbing as your mouth sucks cold puffs of breaths inside your lungs. 

Shirabu’s digits slide up your collarbone, then press together in a quick motion from all the way up to under your breast, stealing just the slight touch over your erected nipple. 

“Please put your hand over my shoulder,” Shirabu says carefully, detached; and is delighted when you push a little dazed “what” out your swollen lips. 

He can’t help but smirk; poor little lamb is lost to the wolf around her - and his claws are already in. 

“Like this, honey.” His hand takes yours in his, open your palm with his fingers to press it on his shoulder, a wide-angle that gives him better access and provides for a comfortable examination. 

“Hm, okay!” You strangle it out, cute and bashful and Shirabu feels his slacks getting tighter.

“Good,” he breathes close to your face and restarts his movements, digits massaging up and down your chest, right side first as his fingertips get together to start to draw patterns from outside until the center in a repeated motion that ends with just a barely-there, butterfly touch over your nipples as he does a careful glide around the circle.

Your shoulders tremble and curve inwards as your abdomen seizes, hints of your pleasure that Shirabu can pinpoint even without his medical expertise. It makes his heart soars; such a little innocent thing that you can’t even speak up about it, just quietly suffering from the need growing inside you until you’ll burst.

His hand stops under your breast to weigh it, palm covering the extension of flesh as his thumb slides in a fond motion to the sides. 

“Now I’ll do the left,” Shirabu announces and feels as you tense, eyes looking up at him in a lost haze even as you blink and nod. There’s a small storm brewing inside your eyes clouding them over, as if you’re struggling to catch up to his fingers, trying to fully wrap around his motions and still falling victim of your innocence, agreeable and placid, trained and directed to respect authority. 

Dr. Shirabu knows best, you’re probably thinking as you nod once again, hands grabbing at anything they can to hide their trembling. Then he starts his ministrations by rolling your nipple with his thumb, drawing a gasp from you.

 “Oh, sorry,” Shirabu says with fake sorrow before he starts the circling massage around your breasts once again. 

A humming agreement is all you answer him, lips pressed together as if you’re embarrassed by the noise you’ve left. Oh, poor little thing. 

He can’t wait to ruin you.

Shirabu wonders if you can notice how he changes the motions of his fingers this time around, pressing closer to the center and around the halo of your breast as he kneads the delicious mound with his digits. 

Your knees are practically pressed together and you’re struggling to hold your shoulders up in a straight line and Shirabu is absolutely delighted at causing your downfall with such little, fickle things as the point of his fingers.

He waits for the moment where your teeth close sharply over your swollen lips, holding both breath and noise inside, and angles both his hands to press under your breasts, upwards motion that is a good excuse for groping - not that you’d know. Your spine curves as your head turn down in waves of burning hot embarrassment at your own behavior and Shirabu simply has to move before he does something bad.

Well, worst.

 “All done,” he tells you with a small curve on his lips as he steps back. You wait for him to turn before letting a breath out, but even that sounds sharp in the silence of the room. Shirabu hides his hands from your eyes in his pockets, fingers twitching in the absence of your smooth skin under his digits.

“Now we’ll pass to the examination.” The little tremble in your frame is enough to add twisting fire into his veins, temperature rising even when the air conditioning is running low. Shirabu does his best in making his voice sound unaffected and neutral, walking over to the stirrups and adjacent dressing table where he keeps his medical gloves.

“You can lie down and put your legs over the supports.” 

“Yes, Doctor.”

You obey like a good girl, the simple motion already flashing him the precious skin underneath, legs spread wide open and immobilized. Anxious eyes look for his in reassurance, then seem to think better of it as they fall down to watch your open legs. The view making you squirm once again in the padded table. 

So precious.

And trusting.

Your hands are clasped over your belly in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting, eyes eagerly fleeting between Shirabu’s frame and the ceiling. He sends a smile your way as he pulls the chair close to the stirrups and your disconcert is practically charming. 

When Shirabu walks over to sit between your open legs, his cock strains against his slacks, immoral coil twisted hard at the small peak of heavenly skin, of glistening folds swollen by the blood flow.

If only he could lick it.

There’s a tremble to your form that he can’t pinpoint, but the wide-open arch of your legs immobile over the stirrups clear are involved in; that, and the pulsating arousal in your center, if the way you’re throbbing open for him is any indication. 

Shirabu had considered going slow, threading carefully before taking what he wants, but the fortitude of his mind is being challenged by the view alone: You, laying on the table, legs spread and skin glowing. It’s wicked. Shirabu wishes so much to taste, but he’s snapping his gloves on instead. 

 “Are you sexually active?” He makes small talk, chair sounding loud in the silent room as he finally takes his place on it.

“I’m, uh, not for a while.”

“Any unprotected intercourse?”

“Hm... N-no.” Huh. Shirabu doubts he was able to hide the motion in his lips signaling that the little slip in your tone isn’t lost. “Are you certain? We may need to do a test, just to be sure.”

Your eyes fleet to him, shining in the artificial illumination, flustered expression as you down them for your clasped hands after. It’s rather endearing to watch as your anxious behavior spike, the way you’re unable to twist or move, pinned there by physical barrier more than just his eyes.

“It’s possible.” You answer him, meek, and he tries not to smile. “But I’ve been on the pill.”

“Ok, then. You mentioned numbness. Did you mean during intercourse or just in general?”

“Sometimes general, but normally when I’m… touching… myself.”

Oh well. What a nice little improvement. His eyes bore on yours between the valley of your legs, the air surrounding you both turning thicker. 

“Understood. I’m going to be touching you now.”

You nod, and then gasp when his hands actually touch the inside of your open thighs, a light caress to satiate the need to know how soft and plush you feel, and it’s exactly as much as you look. You suck in a breath slowly, and Shirabu lets his fingers slide up to your hot center.

“I’ll start with the pelvic exam. If you feel any pain or discomfort, just say so.” You nod and he starts slowly, two gloved fingers carefully threading over the swollen labia with acute precision, circling motions as he caresses the underside of your most sensitive place and downwards, rounds the dripping wet entrance, and sliding back up, fingers opening in a “v” motion, a small twirl around the engorged nub above it all. “I’m making an exterior exam, any numbness?”

You nod your negative. Eyes barely holding themselves open, teeth sunk on your lips. “Tell me if you either don’t feel anything or feel anything hurting.”

“Okay,” it’s mostly a whine, breath leaving your mouth as soon as you open it. He descends a third finger over your sex, up and down circling motions that rip a groan from your throat.

“Does anything hurt?” Shirabu’s voice is collected, calm, a stark contrast to the throbbing length in his pants. “Numb?”

“I...don’t think so?” You’re trembling, voice breathless as the stirrups squeaking under the strain of your thighs and Shirabu’s other hand comes up, palm planting over your pelvis, feeling the soft skin and then pressing his palm on it.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a problem with sensibility.” He tries to reassure you as his fingers thread to your entrance, indicator slowly tracing the tight circle pulsating in front of his eyes. You’re dripping wet, soaking his gloves and all he can think is what a delicious little patient.

“I’ll be entering you now, okay? There’s no need for the speculum, so I’m performing a touch exam.” 

“Oh-kay, doctor,” comes your little gruff voice, putty under his hands and opening up nicely for his fingers when he presses inside. You’re tight, wonderfully so, clinging to his gloved fingers. Shirabu angles them up and deep, your blistering warmth spreading from his digits to his arm and then his whole body. 

He’ll have to find a way to “test” you there, as well.  He doesn’t retreat his fingers, but he aims the motions of them inside and above, looking for the sensitive place that’s bound to make you-

“Ah!” 

There it is. Shirabu chuckles and rounds the place with his digits as your knees buckle inside then angling out, spreading wide. He retreats his fingers, rolling them with a little scissoring, then plunges deeper inside as an excuse of trying to reach your cervix. If only he could use his cock- that’d be way easier.

“And now?” Shirabu asks, wicked. “Any pain? Numbness?”

“N-uhnn-” You try to speak but choke on a soft moan, your hands flying to your face as you swallow and answer him back in a trembling tone, “No.”

“Anything else?” It’s teasing, clearly, but you don’t seem to notice it, dazed eyes searching for him as you wet your mouth before speaking.

“It feels… weird.”

“Really? ” Shirabu spreads his fingers a bit, rolls them to feel around your walls. “Why’s that?”

“I- I don’t know. It’s… good.”

“Hmmm… That’s interesting.” His gloved thumb descends over your labia, rolls over your clitoris with strict precision, fingers angling inside to meticulously hit that special place once again. The table squeaks under the strength of your buckling, open cunt pulsating around his fingers in plain view for his appreciative eyes. “You seem to be a bit oversensitive, not numb.”

“Is that- a problem?” You say between breaths as Shirabu’s thumb rolls over your clit. He’s astonished you don’t question any of his debatable moves, only looking at him with dazed, soft eyes. 

“Depends. Do you always leak like this? It can be a condition.” Shirabu presses his palm over your pelvic bone, angle his fingers meticulously and swirl your clitoris with his thumb in firm precision. You moan and immediately recoil in embarrassment, mouth agape in your own surprise. Shirabu scissors his fingers in a rotating motion, inside and out for barely a few seconds and your spine arches off the table, mouth falling in a wide “o” as you tremble on his examination table.

Delicious.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answer in a breath.

Shirabu palms his length to release the pressure, cock straining at the soft expression of rapture on your eyes. “Everything seems good inside; But maybe you’re sensitive. I’ll keep that in mind for the next exams.”

“Is it… done?”

“Almost.” Shirabu smiles, but it's a be-ready-for-trouble one. “All we need is the ultrasound for the internal exam.”

“I thought you had just-”

“This one was the touch one, the next one is done with the ultrasound equipment. It will be inserted inside and then I’ll be able to take a good look at your uterus health.”

“Oh, okay.”

You seem focused on catching your breath as your stretched hole keeps winking at him, as if begging for more. Unfortunately, Shirabu has to move on. He pulls the equipment table close, moves the screen to the side and at a fairly inaccessible angle for your eyes. The transducer reminds a wand, long, shaped anatomically thin with a slightly larger head, barely two-fingers girth. 

“Have you ever orgasmed before? Sensitive dysfunction can make it harder for women to achieve sexual gratification.”

“I… actually don’t know…”

Shirabu slides a condom on it, drops a generous amount of lube over it and then turns to you with a smile. Your legs twitch and your walls clench and he has a strike of brilliance right there as he eyes the pretty furl of muscle under your pleading pussy.

You yelp as he brings a lubed finger to draw rings over your rear, embarrassed eyes quickly searching for his.

“Doctor?!”

“Oh, sorry. The equipment goes in anally. Didn’t I mention that?”

“No?!” You groan, surprised, a soft breath escaping your lips.

“Sorry. I’m just preparing you, passing something to help it.” Shirabu explains, as a liar, and slowly work you open with his indicator pressing inside - carefully, slowly, with clinical precision until his whole knuckle is inside and your breathing is labored, open pussy throbbing for something he can’t give it to you just yet. How precious. “I’m inserting it now. Please tell me if it hurts.”

Shirabu angles the device on the lubed hole and watches, enthralled, as your ass swallows it’s wider head whole with just the first push, the rest of the body following easily as the tight ring presses the overflowing lube out. Fuck. Shirabu’s cock is weeping uncontrollably inside his slacks and he carefully brings a hand to help with the tightness of his pants, opening it enough to allow his thick length to escape free, but still covered by his lab coat.

Then Shirabu presses the device deeper, the angle sharp. He brings the receptor over your belly, presses way to closer to the apex of your sex. “Does it hurts?”

“No,” you breathe out, dazed.

“Does it feel good?”

“...Yes,” you sigh.

“Hmmm, interesting.” Shirabu retreats it, pretending to angle it somewhere else. He moves the equipment a bit more and your knees tremble as your pussy starts to drip on the floor. Jesus, that’s fucking hot. He leaves the receptor over your skin to fly his hand to his cock, slowly pumping it to relieve the throbbing ache. You’re way too lost in your own pleasure to notice his, and that only makes him more feral.

“You can feel something entering you now, but it’s just another equipment,” Shirabu says as he abandons his aching cock to slide two fingers inside your pleading hole, instead. He’s not even sure you understood his warning. Cute. 

“Doctor,” you breathe, almost panicked and Shirabu rolls his thumb over your clit to hear you yelp, your ass tight around the transductor as he scissors his fingers on your wide-open cunt.

“Yes?” 

“I feel... “ You sound so wrecked and lost, a shiver wandering down Shirabu’s spine as his throat bobs. Your pussy throbs around his fingers, begging for something it can’t even pinpoint. Poor thing.

“Pain?” 

“No? Something… else.” Such a cute breathless voice, chest heaving with rabbit-fast beats that Shirabu almost can feel on his fingers deep inside your soaking walls. 

“Pleasure?” He offers, fighting the need to smile at how your confused expression, brows furrowed as you try to think of another word but come ultimately short.

“I…” You start but bite your lips to hold the noise at how he aims at your special spot. Then blink twice, still losing the fight against the thick pleasure fog in your mind. “I guess?”

“Wow.” You’re so honest. Shirabu’s surprise is fairly genuine. He hopes his tone sounds more understanding than completely hungry. “Well… It’s not unusual for patients to feel arousal by exams considering their invasive nature. It’s okay, don’t panic.”

“But,” You start, tense and writhing, but Shirabu stands up, the equipment in your ass changing angle but his eyes are finding yours in the distance. 

“It’s okay,” Shirabu repeats and you listen, hazed eyes focused entirely on him. “Take a deep breath.” 

You obey so well, mouth opening as you breathe deep, chest filling even when Shirabu slowly edges the equipment out of your tight asshole. The fingers inside your pussy don’t stop, though, and he brings his other hand, now free, to aid him in wrecking you. “Now surrender to it. Let it wash over you…” 

“I…” You whine and tense, but then his two hands are gliding over every erogenous zone on your labia with acute expertise, and you let go, bones essentially melting under his ministrations; letting out a soft, obedient, won over, “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He tells you and rotates his fingers in and out, keeping you nice, wet and wide. You’re close. Shirabu can feel it in how you’re swelling around him. “You’re an amazing patient, Miss. Just do as I say and I’m telling you to cum.” That does it, as your head angles back, hands holding yourself and the table as you take a deep breath.

“Yes, doctor,” You whisper and moan, surrendering to the intense orgasm that pulses suddenly through you and quivers around his fingers. It’s beautiful to watch you come undone, legs trembling sharply as they’re held wide open, pussy fluttering in a wave of wetness that joins the puddle on the ground, mouth open as your tongue slides past it, eyes rolling inside your skull and probably seeing white. 

Shirabu never feels tired of it, finally angling himself to bend over your frame, mouth looking for yours quickly as he breaks character.

“Keijiro,” you sigh, pleasure-drunk and Shirabu licks over your open lips, bites on your jaw, sucks the skin to leave his marks. 

“Yes, love.” He answers against your pulse point and you lets out a satisfied sigh by his ear.

“That was amazing.”

“You think so?” Shirabu rolls his hips against your bare, soaked wet pussy, and his free cock rolls deliciously between the lubricated folds. “I’m just starting, though, Miss. I think you’ll need a more thorough exam, though. With special equipment too.” He brings his hand to angle his cock on your entrance, eyes locked on yours as you blink and smile, blissed out and pleading. Shirabu presses himself inside and you throw your head back in bliss, hands planting on his shoulders with sharp nails aiming for his skin. “Such a good patient I have. Open wide, love.” 

You arch your head back to look up at him, mouth falling open on command, for Shirabu to do as he pleases. You, wide open on his table, for him to do as he pleases. He’s your husband after all and you’ve learned from a long time that what pleases Dr. Shirabu Kenjiro the most is picking you apart piece by piece, white bliss searing your every nerve-end as you fall and shatter for him, drowning under his thumb as he holds you down waves of pleasure, dragging you like the tide - strong and unyielding until it hurts to even breathe. 

The mere thought of having more makes your lips fall open in a moan, “yes, Doctor.” 

Because you love everything about that. 

[tabernacleheart]

The Bible doesn’t tell us much about the time between Jesus’ death and resurrection. But, we do know it took place during the Passover celebration: a week-long holiday that commemorated when God freed the Israelites from slavery. During the celebration, Jews would share a meal with each other and sacrifice perfect lambs at the temple before preparing to rest on the Sabbath. It was the day before the Sabbath that Jesus’ body was sealed inside the tomb. Imagine being a disciple of Jesus while this happened. Not only has one of your closest friends just been wrongly killed, but you aren’t allowed to properly grieve his death until the day of rest is over. What the disciples didn’t realize at the time was that the pain they were experiencing was part of a bigger story— a plan to redeem us all. God could see the resurrection coming, even though the disciples couldn’t. 

Rest reminds us that God is Lord over every situation. And rest helps us refocus on what matters most: the One who promises to provide all we need. When we choose to be still in the middle of hardship, we choose to worship God. So no matter what’s going on around you today, choose to rest in God— even if the world around you is choosing to worry. Nothing is impossible for Him; we know that He is greater than whatever’s going on around us. Our hope is in Him alone, because He is our salvation, and we believe that He has already answered the cries of our hearts, even though we are still waiting to see the answers. [Until then, despite all our grief and pain, we] choose to fix our eyes on God, [and rest in Him. He is still in control.]

YouVersion

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lost in the Lapse Again

Pairing: Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x dark!fem Reader

Words: ~3.5k

Summary: Mr. Freezy’s domestic bliss gets jarringly interrupted

Warnings: DARK, explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, over the pants foot job, unprotected vaginal sex), non con aspects, alcohol consumption, mentions of violence, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: ::Just a lot of evil giggling:: I’m not sorry.

Robert growled into his beer as he listened to his bitch wife chatter away in the kitchen, his dumbass kid playing with some stupid truck on the floor in front of him.

All his wife had been talking about for the past week was her new friend Suzy. Suzy was so funny and smart and it was so sad that she couldn’t find a man. He’d finally broken down and let her invite the bitch over for dinner, just to shut her up so he wouldn’t blow her brains out.

“I’m so excited for you to meet her, sweetie.” His wife cooed as she set the bread and cheese on the table. “I still wish you could’ve invited one of your coworkers to set her up with.”

“Really don’t think she’d be interested in any of them.” He said with an eye roll, smirking at the idea of introducing his wife’s sweet little friend to one of the gangsters he spent his days with.

He chugged the rest of his beer and moved to grab another from the fridge when there was a sudden knock on the door. His wife let out a small sound of excitement as she headed to answer it, removing her apron and putting it over the back of one of the chairs.

“Suzy, I’m so happy to see you! Lemme take your coat.” He wife said happily when she opened the door, Robert grunting as he searched for his bottle opener.

“Mary! Thank you so much for inviting me! I hope red is ok?” Robert cocked his head to the side as he continued his search. That voice sounded familiar.

“Red is perfect! Thank you dear! This is my son Billy.”

“Nice to meet you Billy, that’s a pretty cool fire truck you’ve got there!”

Robert set down his bottle with a crash as he growled under his breath and stormed into the living room.

“And here’s my husband Robert! This is Suzy, sweetheart.”

You grinned as you turned to face him, shifting your weight and offering him your hand as he stared at you murderously.

“So nice to meet you Robert.” You purred, fighting a smirk as he did his best to school the expression of rage that was taking over his face.

“Mmhm.” He grunted, taking your hand and squeezing it a little tighter than necessary as he shook it in greeting. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Dinner is almost done, why don’t you two chat while I finish up?” Mary said as she moved back into the kitchen.

“Sure, I’d love to wash up though. Could you show me to the bathroom, Robert?” You said, giving Pronge an innocent look that made him snarl.

He just grumbled and wrapped his hand around your upper arm as he dragged you out of the living room and down the hall. You beamed at him as he shoved you into the bathroom, laughing as he followed after you and slammed the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” He hissed, backing you against the sink as he clenched his fists to keep from strangling you.

“Aww, you’re not happy to see me, baby?” You teased, propping your ass on the sink and running your foot up the inside of his leg. “I was just keeping an eye on you when I ran into that sweet little wife of yours. What a peach she is!”

“Keeping an eye on me?” He growled as he fought the urge to shove his hands under your skirt. “Who told you to do that?”

“It’s just my own little side project.” You purred, spreading your legs wide and running your knees up the side of his body as you locked your ankles together behind his back. “Hadn’t seen you in so long, I was starting to get a little worried.”

He looked down and groaned. Your skirt had slid up your thighs until it was pooled around your waist, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy because of course you weren’t wearing panties.

“We haven’t needed each other for any jobs, you bitch.” He seethed, trying to ignore you as you ran your fingers over your slick coated folds, biting your lip as you started to circle your clit. “You can’t just walk in here and fuck up my life.”

“Oh please.” You said with an eye roll, sliding one finger inside yourself and moaning softly. “You trying to tell me that precious little thing out there is taking care of all your needs? I bet she cries any time you even bring up a position other than missionary.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as you grinned at him, choking on a whine as you shoved another finger into your aching pussy.

“Mmm, don’t squeeze too hard, Bobby.” You wheezed, grinding your palm against your clit as he bent to run his teeth over your jaw. “I know you love marking me up, but what would that pretty little wife of yours think?”

“I said shut up.” He snarled, gripping your wrist with his free hand and drawing your hand up to his face, inspecting your slick coated fingers closely before wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean with a groan. “Fuck.”

He smashed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, his teeth tugging against them incessantly before he released your throat and knelt between your legs. You bit your lip to stifle a cry as he sank his teeth into your thigh before mouthing hungrily at your sex. His tongue slipped between your folds and swirled over your clit.

His fingers pressed into your thighs with a bruising grip as you wound your hand in his hair and pressed him into you further. You turned the water on behind you to cover your whimpers as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mary called at the same time you came with a moan, your release flowing over his mouth and chin and soaking his goatee as your thighs tried to suffocate him.

“Don’t fucking say a word.” He seethed at you as he turned you around and pulled your skirt down to cover the marks he’d left on your thighs before leaning past you to splash some water on his face.

You just smirked as you felt his cock pressing against your ass, washing your hands under the water and humming contentedly to yourself.

He wrenched the door open and stormed out to the dining room, shooting you a warning glance as you followed after him.

“This looks so good, Mary. I’m such a horrible cook I can’t even imagine how much work this was.” You said, beaming at his stupid wife as you sank into your seat.

“Oh please, it was nothing!” She said waving you off as she moved to pour the wine. “I’m so glad to have someone else to cook for, Robert here has gotten so stoic about my food.”

She slapped his arm playfully as he let out a noncommittal grunt, avoiding making eye contact with you as he sank into his seat at the head of the table, right next to yours.

You took a sip of wine and leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs and grabbing a slice of bread.

He gripped his beer bottle tightly as he felt your foot running up the inside of his calf. You just grinned when he shot you a look, stilling your movement as Mary put a serving of lamb on your plate.

“So what is it you do for work, Robert?” You asked with a smirk as you took a bite of food, humming at the taste and giving Mary a look of approval as you tucked in.

“Oh, Robert owns and operates his own ice cream truck business!” Mary said with a proud smile, completely oblivious as you turned your body to press your foot into her husband’s crotch.

“Wow, that is impressive.” You murmured, trying not to look too satisfied as you felt him squirm underneath you. “I can’t believe a little ice cream business is enough to pay for this beautiful house.”

“Well, he works very hard to provide for me and little Billy.” She said as she beamed at you, still unaware of the fact you were about to make her husband come in his slacks.

“Yeah? You must be so proud of your daddy Billy.” You said with a smirk as you felt warmth bloom underneath the sole of your foot and slipped it back into your pump.

The stupid kid just shrugged and shoved his food around his plate, and you did your best to keep from rolling your eyes at the child. You fucking hated kids.

You made idle chitchat with Mary for the rest of the meal, lying to her about every aspect of your life as Robert glared at you and you pointedly ignored him. Mary started to clear the table when you were all finished, humming a little song to herself as she took away your plates.

Robert was still staring daggers at you as he untucked his shirt, hoping it would cover the evidence of his orgasm as he stood up to follow you to the bar.

“You need to fucking leave.” He seethed at you, pouring himself a scotch and downing it in one gulp.

“Oh, Robert.” You huffed sarcastically as you poured yourself a gin. “You are a terrible host.”

“Get out of here or I swear to god...”

“What, you gonna kill me in front of your little family?” You whispered, grinning at Mary as she flitted back into the room, already looking a little tipsy from the four glasses of wine she drank as you handed her a brandy.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Suzy.” She slurred, leaning against the bar and giving you a sloppy grin. “We should do this more often. Maybe next time I’ll invite my cousin George. He’s such a great guy.”

Robert snorted into his scotch at the image of that simpleton trying to make a move on you. You would eat him alive.

“That sounds so nice.” You said, taking a sip of gin and grinning at her. “I did have a wonderful time.”

“Yeah, we all did, Suzy was just telling me she had to go though.” Robert grumbled, giving you a meaningful look.

“True, I have an early day tomorrow.” You hummed as you downed the rest of your drink. “Should really get back to my place.”

“Oh, shoot! Well, Robert be a gentleman and walk her out to her car.” She ordered, taking his glass and shoving him to follow after you. “Wait, I’ll come too!”

You chewed on your lip as Robert trailed after you, grabbing your coat and slinging it over your shoulders as the woman babbled like a fool. She wrapped her arm around his waist as she wobbled on drunk legs and you shot him a wink as he tried to keep her from falling.

You climbed into the drivers seat and stuck the key in the ignition, frowning when the engine just clicked.

“Oh, no is there a problem?” Mary asked, looking a little giddy at the idea. “Do you have to stay? Robert, check under the hood for her and see if you can fix it.”

He rolled his eyes as he moved to check your engine, clenching his jaw and wrenching the hood up with a grunt. He frowned when he got a look at the engine. Your distributor rotor was missing, and there was not way that was an accident.

“I would call a tow truck but I think they’re all closed.” You said innocently, but he didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in your eye.

“Nonsense, you’ll spend the night here and we’ll call in the morning.” Mary said as Robert slammed the hood closed and fought the urge to scream at you.

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you.” You purred as you slid out of your car and followed her back into the house, ignoring the look Robert was giving you.

“Don’t be silly.” She said as she staggered over the threshold. “I’ll make up the guest room for you. Sweetie, can you get Billy ready for bed?”

He just grumbled to himself as he ushered his moron son towards his room, barely paying attention as he instructed him to start brushing his teeth.

Having you in his house was like torture. He wasn’t going to try to deny that he hadn’t been thinking about you since your last job, that’s all he’d been thinking about. But this was his life, sure he hated it, but it was a good cover. And all he could think about right now was storming into the guest room and fucking you until you were screaming, who cares if his wife or kid heard. That frigid bitch hadn’t even put out in months and his cock needed some sort of release.

He shut off the light and sighed once the stupid kid was in bed, shutting the door and moving to his own bedroom.

“Isn’t Suzy so great?” Mary said as she slipped into the dumbest looking nightgown he’d ever seen. “I can’t believe she’s still single.”

“Right.” He muttered, slipping out of his clothes and moving towards the bathroom to wash up.

He listened to her idiotic chatter as he got ready for bed, his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips when he finally made his way back to the bedroom. Mary was passed out on the bed as he shut off the light and climbed in beside her.

You were still occupying his thoughts as he tried to fall asleep, his cock hardening as he thought about leaving pretty bruises on your skin while he split you open. He flipped onto his stomach and pressed his dick into the bed as he tried his best to drift off, grinding his hips into the mattress to try to relieve some of the tension.

He turned his head to look at the stupid cunt passed out beside him. His hand snaked under her gown as she snored lightly, sliding up her thigh as he tried to think of some way he could relieve the ache in his groin. She gave a small noise as his hand found its way to the apex of her thighs and he grunted as he found her fucking bone dry, per usual. There was no way he was falling asleep, so he got out of the bed with a moan and headed to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

The moonlight was coming through the shades as he walked in, and he grumbled when he found you leaning against the counter smoking a cigarette, bathed in silvery light. You grinned at him as you held out the cigarette, the sleeve of your robe slipping down your shoulder enough to let him know you weren’t wearing anything underneath it.

“That stupid cunt pass out yet?” You asked as he took a drag, not bothering to pull your robe back into place as his gaze raked over you. “She do anything to help you out baby?”

He snarled at you and tossed the butt into the sink before stepping into you and ripping the robe off as he fought the urge to sink his teeth into your neck.

“You fucking bitch.” He hissed as his fingers dug into your breasts painfully, making you arch into his grip with a gasp. “Who gave you the right to come in here and talk to my wife, my kid?”

You whined as he bent to bury his face in your tits, his teeth skimming over the slopes of your breast as you felt arousal seep down the insides of your thighs.

“You fucking love it, Pronge.” You muttered as you wrapped your legs around his hips and buried your hands in his hair as he bit and sucked his way up to your throat. “You need me. That dumb little wife of yours can’t do anything for you. I bet she’s never even sucked that big cock of yours.” You brought a hand down to palm the bulge in his pajamas as you grinned before tugging his bottoms down and wrapping your hand around his dick. “That stupid cunt even notice when you come home with my marks all over you, or does she only let you fuck her with your clothes on like a good little catholic boy?”

He grabbed a dish towel and folded it lengthwise before wrapping it around your throat and turning you around with a growl. You moaned as he shoved his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt as he tightened the towel around your neck.

He wrenched you up against his chest as he started to fuck you, turning your face with his grip on the towel so he could run his tongue over your cheek in a heavy stripe as you mewled.

“You goddamn bitch.” He snarled into your hair as his hips slapped against your ass, his grip on the towel growing tighter as you fought the urge to pass out. “I oughta blow your brains out the back of that pretty skull of yours. I’d do it if I didn’t think it’d start a fucking war.”

You just laughed in a thin wheeze as he pounded into you, your pussy fluttering around him as he restricted your air flow.

“Sure you would.” You said hoarsely as you thrust yourself back on his cock, meeting each of his thrusts desperately. “You’d miss this pussy after a week. You’ve never had a fuck as good as me, Pronge.”

He bit down on your ear lobe and brought a hand around to pinch your clit as you came apart. You reached over your shoulder to grip his hair as your chest heaved and your pussy clamped down on him, your release leaking out around his cock as you swallowed a scream.

You whined as he pulled out of you before throwing you to the floor and pouncing on you, drawing your knees up to your waist as he speared into you and you bit back a cry.

“You keep that fucking whore mouth shut.” He seethed as he ground against you, his cock already starting to twitch inside you.

He clapped his hand over your mouth as he thrust into you, grinding against you with each push of his hips as you tried to arch your back into him. You whined under his hand as he brushed his lips over your collarbone before bringing his face up to meet your eyes.

“God, you cunt.” He moaned as he felt you clamp down on him. “You goddamn slut.”

He ripped his palm from your mouth and crashed his lips to yours, swallowing your shriek as your orgasm crashed over you, your fingers raking over his back and leaving deep scratches as you squirted your release all over his kitchen floor. You grinned as he groaned into your mouth and filled you with his cum, his hips stuttering as he fucked his spend into you until it was leaking out around his cock.

You hummed contentedly as he rolled off of you, squeezing your thighs together as he stood up with a hiss and scowled at you over his shoulder.

“You look so good with my marks on your back, Bobby.” You purred, standing up and stretching. “You go ahead and crawl back into bead with that dead fish of a wife, I bet she won’t even notice.”

“You need to quit talking about my wife, kitten.” He grumbled as he pulled his pajamas back on. “And quit calling me that.”

You pulled your robe back on and slid next to him as he pulled a cigarette out of the drawer and lit it.

“I think you like it.” You murmured, taking the cigarette when he offered it and taking a long drag.

The phone rang suddenly and he moved quickly to answer it as you took another pull, opening the window above the sink and blowing the smoke out into the cold night air.

“Pronge.” He said as he lifted the receiver to his ear, taking the cigarette back from you as he listened to whoever was on the line. “Yeah? How much?”

He grabbed a pen and paper and started writing information down as you watched him, finishing off the butt and tossing it outside as you hopped up on the counter.

“She’s not at her place?” He said as he grinned at you. “Something tells me she’ll get the information.” He hung up the receiver and set down his notepad. “We’ve got a job.”

——————————————————————————

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[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 5 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki returns to claim what is his - willing to kill everyone in his way.

Warnings: Angst.

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @catlover092402152, @hi-there-x, @haloangel391, @misssilencewritewell, @babayaga67, @accioremuslupinn, @mochimommy2002, @just-someone-who-likes-to-write, @damalseer, @bethanystan, @loser-alert, @star017, @nina1800, @queenariesofnarnia, @n1fangirlsblog, @vengefulsokovian, @lunamoonbby, @freyagallileaevans, @emmojoy, @literate-lamb, @aninnai​, @justsomerandompersonintheworld​

A/N: Sweet little Feedback Anon, I took your suggestion. You know which one I mean if you see it. (:

Btw guys I have like 60+ Drafts I need to finish so pls be patient with me.

Word sure spreads fast among the folk of Asgard, about Odin’s shame and your innocence.

Since his lies had weakened the favor among his subjects, the Allfather was desperate to clean his name and reputation, ultimatively inviting you to come back.

But you declined, stating that this wasn’t your homeland anymore ever since they betrayed you to fullfill their selfish ambitions.

However, Asgard’s hypocrisy wasn’t the only reason you chose to stay on Midgard - you just knew that it would break your heart every day you’d spend on a place with so many memories connected to your deceased husband.

Earthlings, the people of S.H.I.E.L.D and especially Thor’s friends Jane and Erik Selvic had basically become like family to you. Even though they could never fill the void Loki had left in your heart, things being like this was more than you could wish for.

“Lady Y/N!” a familiar voice greeted you, yet his worried tone startled you. Thor was already standing in your room, practically kicking in your door as he was visibly upset.

Immediately, you put Liam into his crib and rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?!”

A strange mix of horror and excitement was stretched across his face, making your heart sink to your stomach.

Actually, you didn’t want to involve yourself with the Asgardians any further. All you ever wanted was for your child to be healthy and happy, no matter where this was possible.

But Thor was still your cherished brother-in-law, as well as a wonderful uncle, never ceasing to provide for you and Liam, even when everyone else had forsaken you.

Yet what he was about to tell you let your blood run cold: 

“Loki is back.”

Immediately, all the walls you had built up over those past months were crumbling as you collapsed to the floor, crying out of anger and relief.

“H-How? How is this even possible?! He’s dead! Loki died!”

“Pull yourself together, Lady Y/N!” Thor has always been a rather touchy-feely kind of person, in opposite to his raw and bulky appearance.

But right now, he wouldn’t dare to hug or console you, like he’d usually do. Instead, he was offering you a hand to help you get back up - which you wouldn’t be able to take just yet. “There’s no use in overthinking this! We need to hurry!”

“What do you even want me to do?” you wondered, because if your husband was really alive, you’d doubt him wanting to see you. “He’s changed...killed a lot of people before he disappeared. And still, I don’t wanna fight him. How can I be of any help at all?!?”

“We know he’s probably after you and the child” the God of Thunder stated coldly. “So you need to be transferred to a safe location.”

What can be more safe than a base of S.H.I.E.L.D? If only you knew he had already demolished a whole, giant outpost of them with ease...

“I’ll explain everything to you on the way.” “Let me quickly get the baby.”

“What, did you forget the name of your nephew already?” you chuckled awkwardly, but seeming to have struck a nerve.

Thor was only slowly approaching the crib in which your lovely baby was resting, staring at it with awe while his trembling hand caressed Liam’s cheek.

“Incredible...” he whispered mainly to himself,  as if this wasn’t the thousandth time he would lay eyes upon him. “He’s just like I remember him.”

Something was off.

Of course Thor had a spare key to your flat, but you had never heared him unlock it - he had just kind of appeared in the middle of the room. Could as well be that you had been to invested with something, or buried in thought to notice him, and yet...

“Wait” you stated, making him flinch away from the child and turn around. “My knees are still weak. Help me up first.”

With heavy steps, Thor would force himself away from the crib and towards you again, lending you another hand and easily pulling you up - just for you to point a sharp dagger to his throat.

“Lady Y/N, when did you summo-”

“Shut up!” you hissed, and the god held his hands into the air to assure his goodwill. "Drop the disguse. Now!”

The man let out an amused huff, a taint of green covering his body to revert it back to normal - revealing your husband.

His hair had become longer, and dark rings showed how devastating those past months went by for him. Yet still, he was unmistakingly your husband.

Yet a faint, mad spark in his eyes was what worried you the most.

Now he was holding a knife as well, both circling around the crib with a knife at each other’s throat, as if to dance with each other.

“So it’s really you, Loki?”

“The one and only” he declared, chest swelling with pride at his performance and completely ignoring your hostile undertone. “I missed you painfully, my sweetling.”

He looked to the side where your son was still sleeping soundly, regret clearly visible on his face. “Wha- what name did you give our child?”

“Liam it is.”

The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, swallowing harshly to surpress the sobs wanting to break free. “Beautiful name. Very well chosen.”

Pain was stretching across your features, desperately trying for the dam of emotions to not break. The dagger in your hand vanished, rather choosing to reluctantly caress his cheek - to make sure this was really him, and not one of his illusions.

And it was really him, leaning into your touch with a content purr. “Yes, my love, just like tha-”

A loud noise drang to his ear, effectively cutting him off. He needed a second to understand that it was in fact you slapping him what caused the interruption.

“Dear, wait, I-” Another hit, this time it was your knee digging into his groin, making him gasp in pain.

With his current power, it would be a piece of cake to block you - yet he knew that after everything that had happened to you, and everything he had done...

...it was what he deserved. So he would allow you to let off some steam.

Yet much to his surprise, you were done already - now grabbing desperately on his cloak and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

He immediately reciprocated, dropping his weapon as well to embrace you fully, lips mingling with each other over and over again.

Oh, how long had both of you craved for each other?

“Sorry” you panted as your lips finally parted, “Just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Do not apologize, my love” Loki declared, chin resting atop of your head, still no intention to let go off of you. “I deserve far worse than that.”

You looked up to him, the kiss having made something surface in his eyes: So solemn, and incredibly fragile, it made your heart ache.

“Wha- what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

Loki’s face contorted at the question, as if the thoughts in his mind were physically painful. But his mind was clouded, unable to make his proper memory resurfacing. “Places far beyond your imagination, dear. And I have learned many things.”

“I-I thought I had lost you...” you ultimatively began to sob, face dug into his chest.

“No” the god whispered softly, his gaze still unwavering. “You always have me. I promise.”

“What now?” you sniveled as he gently pet your head, just as back in good old times. “Where do we go?”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s features creased into a slight frown, “We stay here. There’s no need to leave or flee.”

“Bu-” you hesistantly took a few steps back, to take in his full reaction. “But you’re a wanted criminal, Loki! On Asgard as well as Midgard!”

His manner became more defensive again, glee radiating off of him. “Oh, my sweet, innocent Y/N...still the idealist, I see.”

“And you are still insufferable” you scoffed back, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

Actually, you dreaded the answer.

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once, eyes narrowing before he finally took a hold of your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly when he saw that you were still wearing his ring - even after everything that had happened.

“Y/N, my love, those deaths were a necessary evil.” He tried to peck a quick kiss on your hand, but you pulled away at those words. “The only crime I feel guilty for is having left the love of my life. But don’t you worry, I’ll make up for it.”

He summoned a staff, glowing in the same blue as the tesseract - and much to your terror, his eyes started to adapt to them as well.

“I will create my own kingdom, Y/N! Here on Midgard, with you as my queen! This is what you deserve, my love! You and our child will have everything you desire and more!”

“This is madness, Loki!” It wasn’t the first time he had heared that.

People always treated him wrongly, afterwards wondering why he was trying to create felicity on his own. “Is it?” he croaked, “Is it madness for a person born to rule two kingdoms to create a home he never had?”

His plan did not merit awe or any such feelings he hoped you to have - the only person in the world he thought would understand him.

“Loki, what your parents have done to you is inexcusable, yet-”

“They’re not my parents!” he screamed enraged, eyes then widened in shock that he had raised his voice at you. “My apologies, I...”

“They have kept the truth from you so that you’d never feel different. You know you’re their son, and the Asgardians are your family. You must know that!”

“You speak like mother” he spat, and still Frigga’s words he could not shake off as easily as Odin’s. “There is no going back to that place, and Jotunheim I never had a connection with. You most likely heared that I tried to kill Laufey, yes?”

Nodding in silence, you nervously bit your lip. “Please...” Wrapping your arms around him and placing one ear at his sternum, you could clearly hear how his heart was fighting a war, struggling to decide.

“You can still stop whatever you were gonna do. We can start anew somewhere, lead a peaceful life with Liam. I don’t need wealth or power, and you clearly know any of this wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you’re searching for!”

“As always, you’re right” he grumbled deeply, already regretting what he was about to do. “But it’s not that easy, my naive little dove.”

“No~” With his hand on the back of your neck, he infused a powerful magic inside your body, slowly shutting down your nervous system completely. As careful as possible, he cradled you in his arms and slowly led you to the floor, then proceeding to take his heir.

“The only thing I need for myself is our little family - and I will avenge you by murdering anyone that did you wrong, or tries to separate us again.”

[non-un-topo]

College, Car Seats, and Creamy Pasta (ficlet)

(This title, idk.) So I’ve been having feelings lately about the old guard with babies in modern aus, so here’s an experimental, kind of self-indulgent ficlet filled with extreme amounts of softness and bébé feels <3

_______________________________

There’s an infamous story all the way back from college that Joe loves to share which involves Andy drunkenly rolling her ankle on a beach and Joe having to carry her home--though, she could have walked, but Joe demanded to carry her--and fashioning an ice pack out of the only things he could find in his and Nicky’s tiny, decrepit apartment: A condom, and some ice from a small McDonald’s sprite (their freezer was broken when they moved in).

He lives to tell that story every chance he gets. Especially now, as he reaches into Andy and Quỳnh’s (much bigger and much colder) freezer nearly fifteen years later to retrieve a not-homemade ice pack and wrap it in a clean dishtowel for Andy’s poor crotch.

She’s lounging on the couch, even though she’s proven that she can walk, but Joe doesn’t mind, as she reaches back for the ice pack and shoots him a sly smile that says, Yeah, I know exactly which story you’re thinking about. He bats his eyelashes innocently back.

It’s a balmy Friday evening and Quỳnh’s still at work, though likely on her way home, so Joe has taken the liberty of cooking dinner. Andy begged to order a pizza, but Joe was not having it. And he thought himself to be the lax one of the bunch. If Nicky were in the kitchen at the time, it would have been anarchy.

“Thanks, Joe,” Andy says, as she settles into a more comfortable position on the couch with her ice pack, sighing. He adjusts the pillows at her back, which causes her to snort and slap his hand away.

“I’m not dying.”

Joe sniffs. “Yeah, coulda fooled me. How much did that baby weigh again?”

Andy laughs out a quiet, fuck off. “Nine pounds, eight ounces,” she says, quick as a whip.

“God…”

The baby, the reason for Joe and Nicky’s visit to Andy and Quỳnh’s apartment, is fairly chunky, sure, but he looks awfully tiny and pink, especially when he’s wearing his little hat. The hat with little lamb ears that Nicky painstakingly knit for him months ago, when he was barely more than a bump, that rarely leaves his soft little head. Nicky hadn’t even known how to knit at the time.

The baby’s name is Lykon, after a childhood friend of Andy and Quỳnh. Lykon was born at 4:26 AM on Monday. It’s Friday evening. Joe and Nicky have not left the apartment since Andy and Quỳnh brought him home.

And neither Andy nor Quỳnh have physically kicked them out, so Joe is staying right here.

Nicky had disappeared a few minutes ago to go change the baby while Andy napped, but he reappears then, slinking into the living room with Lykon held against his shoulder--he’s so little in Nicky’s hands, they almost swallow him--and Joe smiles at his husband in greeting before doing a double-take.

“Babe,” Joe says, and Andy cranes her neck to try and see Nicky over the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

Nicky continues his journey across the living room floor--lunges, he’s doing lunges. Deep ones that make Joe’s eyebrows jump up in appreciation.

Nicky releases a finger from his gentle grip on the baby’s head and presses it to his lips. “Shush.”

“You trying to get your ass workout in while carrying my son? Really?” Andy asks.

Nicky’s response is whispered so softly, Joe can hardly hear him. “This is the only way I can get him to sleep.”

“Put him in the car seat,” Andy says, like it’s the most simple solution in the world.

“He likes it,” Nicky argues, still whispering.

Andy only shrugs. “Okay, but if he spits up on you…”

And right on cue, Joe hears a tiny gurgle, and there’s baby puke sliding down Nicky’s back.

Andy doesn’t say, told you so, but she doesn’t need to. Her smug grin is enough. With a poorly hidden pout, Nicky reluctantly hands the baby, who is now crying quiet little wobbly squeals, to Andy.

“You know,” Andy says, “you guys don’t have to stay. You have other commitments, I know.”

It’s the first time since Lykon’s birth that she’s said something like that, and Joe is only moderately surprised to feel a sudden onslaught of tears in his eyes.

“Or not,” she says, quickly. “We really appreciate your help, boys, it’s just… We don’t want to keep you.”

“Andy, shut up.”

She laughs, loud and open-mouthed. “Okay, Joe, okay. I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” Nicky says. Then he leans over the couch to peer into Lykon’s squishy little face. “And we especially love you.”

His voice changes when he talks to the baby. While Joe can’t control the way his voice raises several octaves and the way he coos gibberish, Nicky’s voice softens and hushes to something so comfortable, barely audible. It’s the way he would talk to a fussy toddler, Joe thinks, given the opportunity. He would level his eyes with them and speak to them like a person equal to him, providing the safest and most non-judgemental space for them.

Joe thinks. He hasn’t had many opportunities to see his husband speak with toddlers.

“I would be worried about you guys kidnapping him,” Andy says, “but I think it only counts as kidnapping if you leave the apartment.”

Joe snorts, and then he hears the water boiling over on the stove, so he dashes.

When Joe met Andy and Quỳnh, he had been a wide-eyed twenty-year-old, freshly out of the closet and already hopelessly in love. Well, that hasn’t changed, which always delights him to realize, after all these years. It was the love of his young life--Nicky, of course--who introduced him. Andy and Nicky were family friends, more like siblings, really, and of course Andy and Quỳnh had been together since the dawn of time. It took Joe no time at all to find a family in the four of them, inseparable as they all were.

Andy and Quỳnh had actually surprised him when they started talking about kids. That unexpected and world-changing conversation had been the beginning of a long and at times heartbreaking four years, before they finally got their donor, then suffered through a little over a year of IVF. They had almost given up, Joe remembers, between the frustration and the arguments and doctors telling Andy her eggs were too old. But, there he was, at the end of the journey, coming into the world flipping off everyone who said they couldn’t do it: Baby Lykon, the little warrior.

Joe remembers all of it vividly. The phonecall when they told him and Nicky they were pregnant, the panic to help them find a bigger apartment, the indulgent shopping trips, though Andy tried to keep a cap on those, and the weight and warmth of the baby in Joe’s arms the very first time he held him, barely thirty minutes after he’d been born.

Joe had sobbed, of course (something Andy and Quỳnh had anticipated so strongly they bet money on how long he cried for), and he looked into the baby’s big brown eyes and promised him the world.

They had talked about kids. Of course, they had. He and Nicky. But life was busy, and in the last five years between Joe finishing his dissertation and Nicky’s mother getting sick, the subject of kids just hadn’t come up. Besides, Joe thinks now, he’s only thirty-three.

Quỳnh comes home as he’s dishing up dinner for everyone--a creamy, cheesy pasta, because it’s the best comfort food--and her eyes brim with tears when she gets to hold Lykon again. She hasn’t been able to get a lot of time off work, even after becoming a new parent, which Joe thinks is frankly outrageous, but the work she does as a crisis counsellor is of course monumentally important.

They huddle around the couch to eat dinner, but Nicky pulls up one of the rickety chairs from the kitchen table and sits next to the baby, who is snoozing in his car seat on top of the coffee table. Joe doesn’t know how he does it, but Nicky manages to eat his dinner, drink enough water, and hold a conversation while keeping Lykon’s car seat rocking gently so he doesn’t wake up and scream.

Joe watches him as he chews his pasta mindfully and leans close to peer into the car seat. Beautiful. He’s always so beautiful, especially now. The way he looks at Lykon--their nephew, Joe realizes, elated--makes Joe’s head spin off his shoulders. He feels like he’s twenty.

“Crazy how tiny he is,” says Quỳnh, her voice soft and reverent. She already sounds so much like a parent. Joe’s eyes are still on his husband, so he sees how brightly Nicky smiles at that.

Andy makes an indignant noise. “Shut the fuck up.”

Quỳnh laughs, though she tries with obvious effort to keep quiet. She pulls Andy closer, her arm draped over her shoulder, and presses three kisses to her cheek. Then Quỳnh catches Joe’s eye and winks.

Andy shovels another forkful of pasta into her mouth and moans as she chews. With a full mouth, she says, “Joe, this is perfect. Please, boys, never leave.”

Joe shrugs bashfully, pretending to be shy. “It’s Nicky’s recipe.”

“What did you use,” Quỳnh asks.

Joe hums. He juts his chin to the kitchenette. “Your parmesan, mostly, and that fancy milk.”

“What fancy milk,” Andy asks, absolutely stuffing her face.

“Y’know.” Joe waves a hand. Chews, swallows. “The milk in the fancy bag, from the fridge.”

Andy and Quỳnh both stop eating, their eyes bugging out. Quỳnh slaps a hand over her mouth, poorly hiding a laugh and clearly choking a little, and Andy looks… Oh, Andy looks furious. Her face is red.

“J-” She forcefully lowers her voice, shooting a fearful glance at the baby. “Joe,” she whispers through her teeth. “Did you use my fucking breast milk?”

“Dio.” Nicky sticks his fork back into his dish.

“Oh,” Joe says, like an idiot. “Um.”

Andy’s cheeks puff out and somehow her face turns an even darker shade of red.

“I pumped…” she whispers, low and lethal, slow. “...For so… long…”

“There’s more in the fridge, babe,” Quỳnh says, and Joe fears for her life for a hot second. Then she brings her hand out to hover over Andy’s chest. “And it’s not like the tap is running dry, or whatever.”

“So I’m a milk bag.”

“A badass, sexy milk bag who--oh, who is murdering me with her eyes right now.” Quỳnh turns on Joe, then, scooping another forkful of breast-milk-pasta into her mouth and jabbing the fork in his direction. “You’re gonna be up all night paying my wife back for this, genius. See how skilfully you can wipe meconium from his bum.”

Joe only nods in shame. Fair enough.

Lykon signals that he’s awake, then, with a series of soft little snorty grunts that devolve very quickly into shrieking, wobbly sobs. Nicky launches into action with a speed that rivals the pitcrews at NASCAR. He lifts him from the car seat with such gentleness and oh, Joe’s heart breaks to see the baby’s little lips trembling as he cries, the way his little feet kick out against Nicky’s chest as he holds him over his forearms. Nicky is about to pass him to his moms when Quỳnh smiles softly up at him and says, “Looks like you’ve got him.”

He throws her a glance as if to ask, are you sure, and Quỳnh and Andy both nod. Joe’s sure they’re grateful to have the small amount of rest time and, looking at them now, curled together on the couch in their soft clothes, exchanging light kisses, he knows he and Nicky haven’t come close to overstaying their welcome.

“Look at you, Nico,” coos Andy as Nicky carefully holds the baby against his shoulder to peek at his diaper through the waistband his tiny pants. “You’re making us look bad.”

Nicky only chuckles lightly and shakes his head. The diaper must be clean, because he leaves it be and brings a hand up to cup the back of the baby’s wispy-haired head more steadily, and begins to hum, almost a whisper, and Joe’s heart flutters.

“Do you think he’s hungry?” Nicky asks Andy when the baby continues to fuss.

Turns out he is hungry, because he quiets almost immediately when Andy brings him to her chest. It’s not silent in the apartment--Joe can hear some sirens through the window on the streets far below, can hear the air conditioner groan to life, can hear Quỳnh and Nicky’s forks clink against their plates as they continue to eat the questionable breast-milk-pasta (good lord). And, Joe can hear the soft little grunts and snorts that the baby makes as he feeds.

Joe watches his oldest friends--they’re parents now, he can hardly believe it--as they huddle close on the couch and watch their son. Quỳnh wraps her arms under Andy’s so they’re both holding him, and his little chubby fist twitches and flings out every once in a while against Andy’s rolled-up shirt. His feet look impossibly small. Joe remembers the sounds he made when he and Nicky went shopping for all manner of baby supplies to help shave some stuff off Andy and Quỳnh’s list. He’d nearly sobbed when Nicky came up to the cart holding a pair of incredibly tiny socks (and then he had teared up and nearly passed out when Nicky popped the socks over his thumbs. A lot of people stared).

Joe would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been thinking of revisiting that store with Nicky every day since.

Now, he looks at his husband to find him already watching him, his heart in his eyes. Nicky slowly moves his gaze to their friends, to the baby, and Joe follows it. When their eyes meet again, Nicky’s are a little damp with tears, but he’s smiling, and there’s something inquisitive and hopeful in his eyes. Joe matches him and slowly, they both nod.

Yes.

[beelsjuicytitties]

Hunted for Sport

Now to do a complete 180 from my Mammon fic, here is predator/prey Lucifer! this is suuuuuper self indulgent bc i was looking for stuff to read, but nothing was really scratchin the itch yknow? so i wrote this at like 5am

Warnings: NSFW, DUB-CON

Pairing: Lucifer x GN!MC

Words: 2339

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Neutral Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Dubious Consent, Implied Consent, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aftercare, Primal, Predator/Prey, Blood Kink, Blood Drinking, S&M, Injury, Fear Play, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Biting, Kissing, Dark, Rough Sex, Not Beta Read, Sleepy Cuddles, Bubble Bath, Edgeplay, Smut, Possessive Sex

Summary: Please make sure to read the tags before reading! Hunted and fucked in the forest by Lucifer, followed by fluffy aftercare because he has class

Note: Like my last one, this is also on my ao3 which is linked in my bio!

  Fear. It was all you could feel as you ran through the forest outside the House of Lamentation. Your chest heaved and your lungs were already starting to burn. ‘How long has it been?’ You managed to think, had it been hours? Or merely minutes? The pain in your ankle pulled you from your thoughts as you crashed to the ground. You curled into yourself as coughs wracked your body, the wind having been knocked out. Your ankle throbbed and you could feel dull stinging from almost every inch of exposed skin, scratches from the foliage marring your skin. 

  That's when you heard him. His sonorous voice filled your ears as he sang, your brain too foggy to make out the words. The sound grew as his almost casual steps grew closer. ‘Gotta run, gotta escape’ You repeated the thought in your head as you struggled in the underbrush, sucking in a breath as you forced yourself to your feet. You kept moving forward, after all, what else could you do? Give in? No. No matter how nice it might seem to just give in, to surrender and finally be at rest you couldn’t keep yourself from limping on. The pain in your ankle was getting unbearable, aggravated by your desperate attempt at survival. Your vision was getting hazy, and your blood was rushing in your ears, and yet, you could still hear him sing. It was like he was all around you, his voice swirling around and pressing into you. 

  “Y/n.” Directly behind you. You whip yourself around and hiss, not a good idea as your ankle screams. “Look at you,” Lucifer regarded you, “how pitiful.” Tears were streaming down your face as you backed away slightly. Lucifer matched your movements, keeping the short distance between the two of you the same. You were hyperventilating, your heart was racing, your eyes flicked about quickly, looking for a weakness, a chance to escape, anything. Alas, no such opportunity provided itself, as he quickly closed the gap and grabbed your chin with a gloved hand, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. Hunger, amusement, and arousal swirled in his crimson eyes as he gave you a much too gentle smile. Lucifer leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re not even worth my effort.” His voice was essentially a growl, low and sharp sounding in your ear. “Why don’t you keep running?”

  Before you even had the chance to register his words, you were on the forest floor once again. Lucifer had pushed you there. You stared up at him for what felt like forever, he was standing over you, his hands casually resting in his front pockets. “What are you waiting for? Run.” You snapped back to reality. He was letting you go? That didn’t seem right, but you weren't about to wait around and question it. You once again clambered to your feet and took flight, ducking under branches and barreling through bushes. He had started singing again. How far could you go? How much farther would you need to go? Your mind raced as you free your shirt that had caught on a branch. It didn’t matter, you would keep going, you would make it. ‘Dear god let me make it.’ But no god could hear you. 

  You realized this as you ran headfirst into Lucifer, he wrapped an arm tightly around your waist and clasped a hand around one of your wrists. He was in his demon form at this point, sharp horns protruding from his hair, soft wings fluttering against his back. His grip was tight, like he was trying to squeeze the life from you just like this. “Tsk tsk little lamb, running right into the waiting arms of the one chasing you? I had expected better.” You struggled weakly, your body beginning to give up. Every muscle in your body was weary, unable to do anything against the demon that hadn’t even broken a sweat. He buried his face in your neck with a deep laugh. “You know you can’t go on, don’t you lamb?” He took a deep breath in, filling his lungs with your scent. “Just give into me.” His breath was somehow cold against your flushed skin, and your knees gave in, causing you to slump in his grip. Another laugh rumbled his chest, this time much more wicked. “Wonderful.”

  You suddenly felt a sharp pain in your neck, your tired brain taking a few moments to realize Lucifer had bitten into you. A choked whimper escaped your lips. Blood trickled down from where his mouth still sat, the metallic taste filling his mouth, causing him to let out a moan. It was a shallow bite, not something you could bleed out from. He greedily lapped and sucked at your neck as the bleeding began to slow. His hand released your wrist, opting to instead explore your thigh, hips, and ass. He squeezed hard on your ass, earning another whimper from you. He swiftly turned you around and pushed you to the ground, your knees, chest, and face all making contact with the hard ground. Lucifer pressed himself against you, grinding slightly against you as he growled in your ear, “You. Are. Mine.” His words filled your mind, repeating over and over.”

  You felt his weight pull off of you, before he ripped what was left of your top off, leaving you cold and shivering. Lucifer pulled his gloves off, and threw them to the side. He raked his claws down your back, small crimson beads forming along the bright burning scratched he left behind. His hands reached the waistband of your bottoms, and he swiftly rid you of them along with your underwear. He let out a deep growl as he kneaded your ass, staring hungrily down at your fully exposed body. Suddenly, you could feel his mouth on your ass, his tongue skillfully swirling and prodding the tight hole. He tongued your ass with vigor, claws digging into your ass cheeks as his grip tightened. Small moans began to fall from your mouth, just loud enough that he could hear them. He pulled back much to your.. Disappointment? Surely, you couldn’t be disappointed that he had stopped rimming you.

  You heard the pop of a lid, followed by a cold, wet finger rubbing against your ass. Had he brought lube? Huh. Lucifer began to press his finger into you, easily slipping the whole finger in. He wiggled the finger inside you for a moment, before he began to push a second finger into you. This finger was met with slight resistance, taking a tiny bit longer to fit inside you. Once both fingers were full inside, he began to scissor them, opening and stretching you out. He pushed them in and out as well, curling his fingers as he went. Your legs were shaking, and your sex was dripping from the stimulation. He hummed as he added a third finger, really making sure to prepare you for what was next. 

  Just as you felt you could take no more, Lucifer pulled his fingers from you. You whined and your ass was gaping slightly from the loss of his fingers. “Oh?” his voice was filled with amusement. “Could it be that you’re wanting this?” He chuckled, which was shortly followed by the sound of a zipper. His thick cock rubbed between your ass cheeks, he drizzled more lube across the top of his cock as the bottom got coated by what was already on your ass. “I can’t wait any longer.” You felt the head of his cock press against your ass, and quickly pop in, eliciting a moan from you, and a deep groan from him. He pressed deeper, stretching and filling you more than you could’ve imagined. 

  As he bottomed out, he placed a hand against your back, and his other hand on your hip. “F-fuck,” he swore as he pulled back slowly, before quickly snapping his hips foreward. He began to set a pace, not very fast, but his thrusts were rough, pushing you forward each time. His claws dug into your skin as he quickened, letting his moans and groans fall freely. His hand shifted from your hip to your sex, long fingers moving defltly and driving you insane. You were close and he could tell. “Are you going to cum?” he panted out. “What a filthy slut, going to cum out here in the woods.” His fingers and thrusts pushed you over the edge, and you let out a strangled moan that was on the verge of sounding like a scream. As your orgasm wracked your body, causing you to shake all over, you tightened on Lucifer's cock, basically sucking him in. 

  Lucifer did not let up, his fingers continued working your sex, his thrusts remained as quick and rough as they had been. The sensation was overwhelming, your vision was spotty and it was all you could do to manage to breath. He followed close behind you, groaning as he released his cum deep into your ass. His thrusts continued though, slightly more erratic, but not slowing down. “You really think im -mng- finished with you?” He leaned over your back and kissed at your neck. “As if.” He pulled out of you momentarily, and flipped you onto your back. He swiftly reinserted himself and leaned over you. He rested on his forearms, framing your head as he caught your mouth in his. He thrust slowly now, grinding himself into you as he messily kissed you. You weakly wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed back. “Mmhh, what a sweet little lamb you are,” he purred between kisses.

  He kept going like this, slowly fucking you, almost passionately. Alternating between kissing your mouth, cheeks, neck, ears, anywhere he could reach. It was almost as if you were making love in his bed at home, the way he treated you now. You could feel yourself grow closer to orgasm again, and you clamped down on his cock. He smiled against your skin upon feeling this. “Close again, little lamb?” his voice was still rough in your ears, but there was a small hint of sweetness to it. “I’m close too.” You tangled a hand into his hair at those words, running your nails against his scalp and tugging gently. He shifted his weight to support himself with one arm, and slid a hand between the two of you to rub against your sex once more.

  His thrusts quicked slightly as his orgasm built, and he gently moaned your name in your ear. “I want you to cum with me lamb, fuck I’m so close.” You weakly moaned his name in response, your voice thick in your throat. He suddenly thrust hard into you, and filled you once more with his cum. The warm feeling combined with his fingers pushed you over for the second time, you continually moaned out his name as you rode out your orgasm. Your breaths began to slow as he brought his hand up to your mouth. You opened your mouth and cleaned yourself from his hand. He caressed your cheek with his now cleaned hand. “Such a good lamb for me.”

  He pulled himself from you, zipping his softening cock back into his pants. He helped you sit up and kissed you sweetly, before wrapping you up in his coat and picking you up. “Let’s get you home, hm?” He whispered as you settled into his arms, head resting on his chest. You nodded and closed your eyes as the two of you walked in a warm silence to the House of Lamentation. Before you knew it, you had reached his room. He gently set you on his bed. “I’ll run a bath.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before retreating to his private bathroom. You sighed happily, cuddling into his coat and breathing in his scent. It wasn’t long before sweet floral scents began wafting from the bathroom. Lucifer emerged from the bathroom with a first aid kit. “Time to clean up lamb.” You begrudgingly shed his coat, moving as he instructed to give him better access to the various scrapes, cuts, and bite marks. He whispered praise as he cleaned you up with an antiseptic, peppering in plenty of ‘I love you’s.

  He gets to your ankle and you winced. You really managed to do a number on that one. He had used a small amount of magic on the larger of the cuts, but he used more on your ankle. The swelling immediately reduced, and the pain lessened and dulled. “Thank you love,” you managed to croak, your voice not quite ready to be used much. He kissed your nose. 

  “Of course, now, I think the bath is ready.” With that, he picked you up once more, carrying you into the bathroom and helping you into the warm bubble bath he had prepared. He quickly shed his own clothes, and slipped in the tub behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You lean back into him, resting your head against his shoulder. The two of you stay like this, holding each other as he hummed gently. As you felt the water start to cool, you took turns washing the other, gently cleaning off your skin, and massaging your hair. Once you were both clean, Lucifer helped you out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around your shoulders. He drained the tub as you worked on toweling off, he followed suit once he was finished with the tub.

  Now dry, Lucifer returned to tending to your wounds. Applying ointments and bandages, then gently wrapping your ankle. He let out a yawn, and laughed lightly at himself. “Time for bed it seems.” You nodded, giving a yawn yourself. You shimmy under the covers, Lucifer laid himself next to you and wrapped his arms around you. “Good night lamb, sweet dreams.” He kissed you once more, before you both drifted off to sleep.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Blood calls to blood.

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15

“That’s it, Rab!”

Jamie almost doubled over, breathing heavily, beaming with joy as his six-year-old son pedaled down the road on his bike, wobbling just a bit.

“No training wheels, Da!” Rab shouted, almost not believing it himself.

Jamie took deep, heaving breaths. “Claire!” he croaked. “Where are ye?”

Claire poked her head out of an upstairs window, peering down at her husband and son in the street. “What? Everybody all right?”

“Mama, look!” Just then Rab pedaled back to the house.

“Oh, lovie!” Quickly she darted inside, raced down the stairs, and flew out of the door, almost colliding with Jamie who still clutched to the mailbox to hold himself steady. 

Rab absolutely glowed, smiling ear to ear as he pedaled back and forth in front of his parents. “Look, Mama and Da!”

Slowly, carefully, Jamie pulled his phone from his front shirt pocket to take a video of Rab racing up and down the street, giddy with joy. 

“Has he fallen yet?” Claire asked, trying to not sound worried.

Jamie shrugged. “He’s a boy. It happens.”

“That’s not exactly comforting - ”

“Have ye had a message from Bree today?” he interrupted uncharacteristically.

Her brow furrowed. “No. Why?”

Jamie held out his phone so that his wife could see the screen. It was a text from Brianna, sent about half an hour previous: I need to see you and Claire tonight. We’re fine. I’ll explain later.

Silently Claire counted to five before responding. “Well I’m worried.”

Jamie watched as Rab ground the bike to a halt at the end of the road, stood up, caught his breath for a bit.

“I hope it isnae the bairn. She’d tell us, aye?”

Brianna and her husband Roger were expecting their first child - Jamie and Claire and John and Isobel’s first grandchild. It had been a surprise - Brianna had become pregnant only about three months after her wedding and six months after starting her new job, and although the two of them were young and early in their respective careers, they loved and cared for each other. And they could provide for a baby - a baby that clearly they both wanted.

Claire nodded. “She would. Same if it was some kind of problem with Roger. I know it’s been stressful, and that they’re still trying to plan for what they’ll do when she goes back to work.”

Jamie tucked his phone back into his pocket and wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulder. “The puir child has four grandparents to care for it, not to mention two decrepit great-uncles who have gladly said they’ll be full-time carers.” That was true - Lamb and his partner Fez had told Brianna as much during the dinner they’d organized to celebrate her pregnancy. With Lamb retired and Fez on sabbatical for the next year - and with Isobel Grey only working part time, and with Jamie himself fully in control of his schedule at the bookstore, this child had an entire network of people to ensure his or her comfort and care.

“I can’t help but worry.” Claire sighed. 

Jamie squeezed her shoulder. “You’re her Mam. It’s your job to worry.”

Rab raced his bike down the road again, whizzing past them, hitting a rock, and wiping out in spectacular fashion.

“Thankfully he’s wearing his jeans today,” Claire muttered before racing over to her son, too drunk with joy to feel any pain.

---

“That’s a huge scrape you’ve got there,” Brianna politely observed as her brother showed off his skinned knees.

“Yeah. And I was even wearing pants! Mama said it was a good thing I didn’t wipe out in the dirt.”

Bree smiled, rubbing her six-month-pregnant belly. “That’s certainly true.”

“How old were ye when ye learned to ride a bike?” Jamie spooned up the last of the peas Claire had made to go with the roast chicken and mashed potatos she and Bree had cooked for dinner.

Brianna frowned, thinking. “I think I was about seven. It was the summertime, I remember that. I was wearing shorts, and my legs were covered in bruises and my arms were covered in mosquito bites.”

Rab wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

She laughed. “You don’t need to tell me that.”

Jamie swallowed his last bite and stood, pushing his chair away from the table. “All right, wee Rab. Help me clear the dishes. Bree - you and Claire can sit in the living room if ye like?”

Carefully Bree stood, stretching. “Sounds like a great idea.” 

Claire stood too, and took Bree’s hand. Bree squeezed it, and together they retreated to the soft chairs in the room off of the dining room.

For a while they sat next to each other on the couch, not speaking, listening to the low hum of Jamie’s voice speaking quietly to Rab and the clink of dishes and silverware as they washed and dried. Claire wanted Bree to make the first move, but soon enough Bree spoke.

“I had a realization this morning. Well, two, really. And I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Claire nodded. Patient.

Brianna looked down at her lap as she spoke. “The first is...I almost feel terrible for saying this, but I’m glad not just that you’re a doctor, but that you’re my mother, and I can talk to you about being pregnant and all of the weird things about it, because I can’t talk to my Mom about it.”

“Because she was never pregnant,” Claire said softly.

Bree nodded. “I feel terrible even thinking that - she’s the greatest Mom, and she’s known me all of my life, but -”

“But it helps to talk to someone who has experienced it firsthand. I understand.”

“I remember when you were pregnant with Rab - I  remember asking you all about it, and learning about it. Because I’d never had that growing up. But it’s all so different now.” She paused. “I feel terrible even saying that about my Mom.”

Gently Claire rubbed the back of her daughter’s hand. “Don’t feel bad. I think she’d understand. And I’m so glad that I can help you, Bree. That this is another thing we can share.”

Bree swallowed, still not looking up at her. Claire felt her daughter’s hands shake with emotion.

“Are you all right, honey? Is everything all right with Roger?”

Bree let out a breath. “Oh, Claire, he’s so wonderful. He takes such good care of me. He’s a goofball and it’s really, really endearing.”

“I’m so glad you have that love in your life. Having a child with the man you love - it’s an incredible experience.”

Inexplicably Bree began to sob. Working from an instinct she couldn’t even begin to name, Claire leaned in to hold her daughter close. Comforting her, sheltering her as she cried and cried and cried.

“What’s wrong?” she crooned softly. “You can tell me anything, lovie.”

Brianna hugged Claire even tighter. “The other thing I realized today,” she whispered, “is that I can’t even begin to imagine my life without this baby in it. And then I realized that that’s exactly what you had to do, with me.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Claire rubbed her back soothingly. “That was different. I was unmarried and alone.”

“But still - I feel such a bond with him already, and I can’t imagine disrupting that. For most of the time before I was born, you knew me - and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep me.”

“Yes. But I made that choice. Jamie and I made that choice together, because it was the best choice we could make for you.”

“I can’t even imagine making that choice.” Bree took a deep, shaky breath. “And it really, really hit me today. I feel like I finally understand. And I want you to know...” Now she pulled back to look at Claire, wiping away the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I want you to know that I love you so much more for what you did for me. Because I don’t know if I’d ever have the strength to do that.”

Tears welled in Claire’s own eyes. “Jamie said something to me, before we left each other in Glasgow, during those few precious weeks we had together when we knew you were coming and before I came back to Boston. He said - love forces a person to choose. You do things you never imagined you could do before.”

Bree smiled tearfully. “He’s right.”

Claire wiped away her tears, and cradled her cheek. “Of course he is. I kept saying that to myself over and over and over before you were born, and after you were born, and after I’d moved to North Carolina.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier today when I texted Jamie. I just - ”

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

Just then Rab darted into the room, oblivious to his sister’s tears. “Ice cream for dessert?”

Bree sniffed and looked at her watch. “Roger should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Mind if we wait until  then?”

Rab careened out of the room, intent on setting another place at the dining room table.

“Had I not made an adoption plan for you, Bree - I never would have had Rab.”

Bree turned to her mother, incredulous. “Oh my God. You’re right.”

Claire smiled tightly. “So. Everything is worthwhile. You never know the happiness that will come from the sadness.”

Bree squeezed her hands. “My life has become so much happier with you and Jamie in it. And Rab, too.”

Claire’s heart soared. “Oh, lovie. Ours too. Ours too.”