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mrs-gucci · 1 year ago

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For the Hunt

{ werewolf!flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Werewolf Flip wanting to knock you up (or role play at it) and scenting when you’re ripe for him and chasing you down and pounding you

thank you for submitting this!!

warnings. SMUT (18+), werewolf in rut, primal kink (hunter/prey), breeding kink w/no intention of actually getting pregnant, dirty talk, outdoor sex, creampie, minimal aftercare.

word count: 995

🐺 written for werewolf wednesday 🐺

Your breathing is soft, exhilarated, creating little puffs of steam in the cold night air. A shiver runs down your spine, out of excitement or nerves, you’re not really sure.

You two have an agreement that on rut nights, he has full consent to use you however he wants or needs to. He tells you what he needs from you on a particular night and you give it to him willingly, whether it's being tied up on the bed down in the basement or up at his remote mountain cabin.

His absolute favorite thing, however, is when he gets to hunt you. Which is why you’re currently standing behind a big pine tree, trying to steady your breathing.

By now you’ve nearly perfected the art of giving Flip a good chase, having been with him for almost six years. And tonight is an extra special full moon because you’re ovulating, which gives Flip the ultimate prize in his werewolf brain: the chance to breed you.

He looks up at the full moon with his golden eyes, knowing it’s time to hunt, he lifts his snout eagerly.

Almost instantly, he picks up traces of your scent and his paws thud against the earth as he runs into the thick Colorado wilderness. He can already feel that this is one of his more mild ruts, but he's still just as desperate and tuned-in regardless.

Flip slows down and sniffs the air again, knowing that he's close. You can feel him nearby, sticks snapping and leaves crunching under his large paws.

You sneak a look around the tree and he doesn't seem to notice, so you quickly attempt to sneak to another tree. But of course, his head whips over and you freeze, then take off running.

He feels the familiar tingle of his primal hunting instinct creeping up through his body, but he still gives you a head start before taking off in your direction, eyes beginning to turn black with desire.

Your breathing is heavy as you sprint away from Flip, trying to give him a good chase. He growls softly out of sheer thrill and quickly dips to the side to run around you, then stands proudly. You come to a screeching halt.

Strands of drool hang from his jowls as he takes a step forward, then another, piercing you with his lustful stare. You let out a shaky breath and step back, not actually afraid but acting so anyway.

"Please don't hurt me," you say softly, eyes flickering down to his hard member for just a moment.

He grunts when he notices your quick downward look and stands a bit taller, eager to present himself to you.

"I have something else in mind," he says in his deep, gruff voice. "If you do your job correctly, then it should be pleasurable for both of us."

You bite your lip as he steps forward again, sniffing the air.

"You smell especially good tonight, little girl. I could smell your ripe, fertile pussy from back at the house. You're so ready to be bred."

"I don't--"

"Run," he says, interrupting you. "If I catch you, you're mine."

Immediately, you take off again and he gives you a moment before taking three long strides, catching you and causing you to fall over. He quickly catches you with a clawed paw, though.

He brings his mouth down to your ear as he lowers you to the ground.

"I got you," he says. "And now, I get to pound you until you're swollen with my seed."

You whimper softly as he holds your wrists down and takes a sharpened claw to your pants, tearing the crotch open to make room for his thick, pulsing cock. He lets out a shaky breath as he pushes your legs apart and lines himself up with your wet entrance.

Flip groans when he finally gets the wet, hot relief he's been desiring all night within your walls. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, his hips delivering sharp thrusts.

You moan unashamedly as Flip growls and fucks you from behind. Hearing his noises of pleasure only arouses you more and you clench, earning a surprised, breathy grunt from your husband.

“F-Flip…”

His noises get louder and he leans down again, beginning to lick at your neck and jaw, occasionally scraping his teeth lightly against your skin as an alternative.

“I need you,” he grunts, hips speeding up slightly. “I need you to h-hold all my cum inside, keep it a-all…give me pups…”

You gasp softly, eyebrows knitting in pleasure.

“I will,” you breathe. “I-I’ll keep it all f-for you, my love.”

His cock throbs and he knows he can't hold on much longer. He always feels guilty that more often than not, you don't get to cum like this. But he definitely makes sure to return the favor the first opportunity he gets.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna--" He cuts off as the intense orgasmic sensations suddenly rush through him. His eyes flutter shut and he rocks his hips desperately, spilling every drop he has deep inside of you. "O-Ohhhh god..."

You sigh softly as he lets go of your wrists and sits up a bit, still staying buried deep in your pussy. He helps you get up on your hands and knees, then licks your neck again.

"Are you alright? I wasn't too harsh?"

"I'm fine, honey," you reassure, looking back at him with a small smile. "I promise I'm okay. I would've used the safe word if I wasn't."

Flip nods and pulls out slowly, letting out a shaky huff as he does so. When you stand up, he gently picks you up and you rest in his large arms. You smile up at him.

"I love you, Flip."

His eyes soften and wishes he could return your smile. "I love you too."

You sigh softly and look up at the night sky as Flip carries you back to the house.

****

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amuseoffyre · 1 year ago

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I went back to S1 after a seed of a thought started germinating in my brain, specifically to this scene:

Michael: You've been a bit of a fallen angel, haven't you? Consorting with the enemy. Aziraphale: I haven't been consorting. Uriel: Don't think your boyfriend in the dark glasses will get you special treatment in hell. He's in trouble too. Michael: Aziraphale, it's time to choose sides. Aziraphale: I've actually been giving that a lot of thought, the whole choosing sides thing. What I think is that there obviously has to be two sides so that people can make choices. That's what being human means! Choices! But that's for them! Our job, as angels, should be to keep all this working so that they can make choices. Uriel: You think too much.

This scene is after the band stand, after his fall-out with Crowley about making the decision to stay on earth and do the right thing. He already knows Armageddon is in motion and then he’s confronted by angels telling him he’s in the wrong, who hurt him and tell him he’s a disgrace.

In the context of season 2, this entire scene has fresh spice to it because this is the angel who has been making choices his entire existence, choices to “keep all this working”. He’s trying to find a middle ground they can exist in, even back then and is told he’s ridiculous.

Then we see the scene in Heaven in S2, when they’re discussing Armageddon 2.0 and all the angels are like yes, good keep going, and Gabriel makes a choice. Gabriel chooses what he wants over what Heaven wants and - like Aziraphale - becomes a target and an enemy.

And most significantly at the end of that S1 scene, Aziraphale calls them “bad angels”. He’s fully aware that Heaven is corrupt, but he doesn’t know the full story of why Gabriel was kicked out. He just knows that Gabriel has made choices, so that surely means the others can too, if only there was some way to get into the midst of them and make them listen.

And as Crowley said, bees are territorial if you’re trying to get into the hive, but once you’re in there...

Once more, Aziraphale is making a choice “to keep all this working”. He’s going to stay, but this time, the work needs to be done in Heaven. Once more, he’s putting himself in the firing line because he wants the world to keep turning. He is acting to fix things and make them better and stop this kind of thing happening again, because someone has to and if it always has to be him, by God, he’ll do it.

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #aziraphale #good omens spoilers

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r0b0s-robos · 5 months ago

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Practice Warm-Up for a new AU I’m planning on writing:

Your knight stood by your side as you sat on your throne. It felt odd to call it ‘your’ throne. Until a few, short days ago it had always been your father’s.

The pain of his death was still heavy in your heart, but you had to move on. Your kingdom needed to see what a strong leader you could be. However, you doubted many would care if they saw a stray tear fall on your cheek.

Your knight stiffened at your side, sword clenching in his hand as the doors before you opened.

“Sun,” you whispered. “Calm yourself, it’s just a day of hearings.”

Your knight visibly relaxed at your command but made no comment. He stared ahead, eyes locked onto the line outside the doors.

The first of the villagers approached your throne, a small farming family by the looks of it. Two children clung behind the mother's dress as they stared at you with wide, fear-stricken eyes.

“Your Majesty,” the father bowed low. “We apologize for coming to ask for your aid so soon after the previous king’s assassination. He was a benevolent king who always showed great strength and mercy to us all.”

“I appreciate your words,” you straightened, sitting taller. “I hope I can be as good and fair a ruler as he was. Now tell me, what ails your family?”

The mother stepped forward. “Our children,” she began. “They have been caught pilfering from a neighbor's garden. They are young and did not know, but our neighbor has threatened us with a demand for our crop yield next season.”

You stared at the family silently. There wasn’t much to think about for this conundrum.

“I’ll send a bag of seeds to your neighbor in your place of next season's yield. Your children are just that, children. They have much to learn and I doubt they deserve much reprimanding. Next.”

•

As evening approached it became quite obvious that you would not be able to hear everyone’s pleas for aid today. But you tried to push on despite the fact. Even as you fought to keep your eyelids open.

Sun spoke a mere whisper in your ear. “I advise you call it a day. They will return tomorrow, there's no need to keep going.”

You sighed, “Very well. Dismiss the others.”

Sun nodded obediently and left your side for the first time since you had woken up. Alone in the throne room, you slouched and ran a hand over your temple. Exhaustion clouded your mind as your eyes closed briefly.

The only reason your eyes reopened was due to the sound of the large, bronze doors closing.

Sun approached you, bowing before the throne.

You rolled your eyes. “Sun, please. You know you don't have to be so formal with me. Especially when we’re alone.” You gestured for him to come closer.

Hesitantly, he did.

He arrived at the foot of your throne, standing at his full height. Though, you could see the way his armor lightly shook and shuddered.

“Sun… Come closer, brave knight.” You patted the empty space on your lap.

The way you said his name made his knees weak. He moved without thinking, falling to his knees as his head obediently found its place in your lap. Your gentle hands ran over his faceplate, sending yet another shudder through his body.

“You’re stressed,” you noted.

Sun leaned into your touch, unwilling to let it go. “It’s nothing. How are you?” he pushed. After all, you mattered so much more than him. “You look exhausted, should you retire to the bed chamber?”

You smiled lightly. “Now why would I want to do that when I'm having so much fun right here?”

He deflated completely at your words, suddenly feeling like floating. He hung onto your every word, sought out every minuscule touch he could receive.

“And how is Moon?” you suddenly asked.

He didn't bother to look up. “Fine, fine. He's fine. Impatient. Wants the sun to set quicker.”

“Well, tell Moon that when the sun does set, he and I can go for a stroll around the castle grounds.”

Sun visibly tensed. He raised his head, fearful eyes meeting yours. “The assassin is still out there. We can't allow that. Anything else you want to do, we will. Anything,” he pleaded.

Ever since your father’s death, your two bots had been wrecks over your safety. Neither ever left your side for very long. To them, even your other knights weren't to be trusted.

Moon stood guard in your chamber at all hours of the night. Acutely aware of every noise in the castle.

Sun was practically glued to your hip during the day. One hand always rested on his sword, eyes scanning constantly.

“I’ll be fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Moon saved me last time, surely he’d be capable of doing it again.”

Sun could still recall that night perfectly. Moon had all but plucked you from your bed and carried you out of the castle as arrows flew in all directions. They bounced off his casing as he shielded your fragile, delicate human skin.

The next morning, your father was dead.

Fear consumed them all at once. Mere jesters before, a gift from your father after a voyage, and now they found themselves in your service. They didn't trust anyone else to protect you. And frankly, you didn't trust anyone more than them.

“Please,” Sun gripped your free hand. He scooted closer on his knees. “Please, we don't know what we’d do without you. Please, let us keep you safe. If you want something from the garden we will pluck every flower for you. We will bring the garden to you, safe within the walls of the castle. Please,” he begged. If he could cry, he would be. The mere thought of putting you in harm's way made his gears creak and groan.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

His shoulder relaxed, his gears calmed.

“But do tell Moon I’d like to spend more time with him, will you?”

“Oh, Highness,” Sun sighed breathily, “he already knows.”

#[r0b0.readingcircle]#dca community #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf dca #steampunk x medieval au #sun x reader #moon x reader

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ramblingoak · 2 years ago

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Drenched

Secondo x female reader, nsfw, mdni, smut, little bit of breeding kink and a little bit of size difference kink.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You were drenched.

Sweat, cum and tears were streaked across your skin. When you gained the energy to look in the mirror across from you, the wet streaks glistened in the moonlight shining through the window. Bite marks stretched from your neck to the inside of your thighs and further down were streaks of paint all the way to your toes. No part of your body was without some sign of your Papa laying claim to it.

Secondo liked to be thorough.

“Look at you, look at how good you’re being for your Papa.”

You whimpered and laid your head back against his shoulder. Shuddering as the aftershocks of your last orgasm still rippled through your body. Secondo’s large hand rubbed from underneath your breasts to your belly button, back and forth in a soothing motion. You weren’t sure when he had taken off his gloves, but you loved the feeling of the smooth skin of his hands on you.

His hand slid lower and he began to tease the hair at the top of your mound. You started to shake your head, tensing your arms against his tie that was wrapped around your wrists. That was the only other item of clothing he’d removed. The buttons of his waistcoat were digging into your back and you could hear his belt buckle clinking whenever he had fucked into you.

“Papa I can’t…it’s too much.” He clucked his tongue against your ear and pulled your arms back so they grasped the top of the couch you were on.

“Shh piccolina (little one), shh. Your Papa isn’t done with you just yet. I promised to fill you tonight and keep you full.” He slid his hand down and rested it against your neck, applying just a little bit of pressure to make you swallow and hold your breath. “Don’t you want your Papa to fill you, dolce? Don’t you want my seed buried deep inside of you?”

You nodded as much as you could with his hand still gripping your neck but you stopped when he squeezed and let out a growl.

“Words, piccolina. Tell your Papa what you want.” His hand above your cunt slid down between your lips, rubbing back and forth between your clit and where he was still buried inside of you. He was hard again, stretching your walls around him. Another squeeze at your neck and you jerked, grabbing at the back of his head instead of the couch.

“P-please Papa, please fill me please I need you I want you to bree-” You cried out when he moved both hands to your hips and started to fuck into you again. His grip was bruising and his thrusts were rough, jolting you with each snap of his hips.

You loved when Secondo took control of your body like this. He was almost a foot taller than you and he seemed to like the difference as much as you did. Normally you would get defensive if anyone ever tried to manhandle you, whether it was in the bedroom or out. But the first time Secondo lifted you and set you on his cock with barely any effort you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Secondo pulled you down roughly on his cock and ground his hips into yours. He started to rub over your clit with two of his fingers, his other hand was pressed against your belly, securing your back to his front. Your legs twitched where they laid over his own, spreading you out so you both could watch his cock move in and out of you in the mirror.

“I’m going to fill you again, piccolina. My cum will be dripping down your legs for days.” He had started to thrust once more, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you filling the room. “Do you want that? Do you want everyone to know you are mine?”

“Yes Papa!”

“I want them all to know. I want them to smell me on you.” He was thrusting faster now, bouncing you on his cock. You could tell he was getting close, he was panting against your neck. Your orgasm came out of nowhere and you spasmed in his lap, your arms falling in front of you as all your strength left you. The only thing keeping you upright were his hands and his cock. “Tanto bene per me, sempre tanto bene.” (So good for me, always so good.)

“Only for you Papa.”

“Yes, mine! Mine!” One final thrust and you could feel his cock kick where it was buried inside your cunt. In the mirror you could see his cum already dripping out and your body shuddered at the sight. Secondo growled into the skin of your neck, lightly circling his hips under you. He chuckled when you whimpered and smoothed one of his hands over your belly again.

Your eyes met in the mirror and you watched his hand move down to where he was still buried in your entrance. His fingers rubbed around your lips and gathered some of his leaked cum. He brought them up to your mouth and you obediently sucked them inside, running your tongue along the digits and cleaning them.

“That’s it pet, we don’t want any of it to go to waste, eh?” You shook your head and he pulled his fingers out with a pop. Your eyes fluttered closed and you smiled as he situated both of his hands on your hips again, waiting for him to lift you off. Instead Secondo hummed and started to run his hands up and down your thighs, lightly scratching his nails against your skin.

He had softened enough that his cock slipped out of you and you moaned at the loss. He tsked next to your ear and you both watched as even more of his cum dripped out of you. One of his large hands came to your entrance and covered you, the heel of his hand applying delicious pressure to your clit. Two of his thick fingers slid into you and he just kept them there, preventing any more of his cum from leaving.

“Don’t worry piccolina, your Papa will fill you up again.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

My Masterlist

My Ao3

#my fics #my writing #secondo x female reader #papa emeritus ii x female reader #secondo fanfiction #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #ghost #secondo #papa emeritus ii #bone daddy #papa emeritus x reader

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vanoincidence · 3 months ago

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I Still Remain // Solo

TIMING: current. SUMMARY: van reads cass's letter for her. CONTENT WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, parental death.

You are my brightest star, but you've been burning out. I am too late, and you're too far.

Van,

It guts her like a fish, and she thinks that for a moment, she can smell the salt in the air. But it dissipates after a moment as her eyes move to the next few lines.

I didn’t really want things to go this way. You know? I think I held onto the idea that things could be different for, like, a really long time. I think that’s what made everything suck so much. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for a lot of things, really. I’m sorry I was so cagey when you came by the cave way back when. My dad was inside, which you probably figured out later. He’d, like, just gotten there, and he said he wasn’t ready to meet anyone else yet, and I didn’t want to lose him. I just wanted him to like me. I was worried if you came in, if I went against his request not to tell people about him yet, he’d get mad. I thought he’d leave. I didn’t want him to leave.

There's something to be said about the love a child has for their parent, even if that parent is undeserving of it. Even if she hated Makaio on Cass's behalf, she knew of her friend's desire to be loved; to be held within arm's reach and chosen. So even though anger blooms from a seed that was since pushed beneath the ground at her feet, it is not directed at her friend. Instead, it's at the world and how it failed her. How Cass could've allowed herself to fall prey to the words he spoke. In the end, his promises, or lack-thereof, got Cass killed, and that's where the anger embeds itself into Van as she stares down at the notebook, already stained with the tears as she flipped through the pages to write out the letters from Cass to the others in the notebook.

But I don’t think that’s a good excuse. You’re my friend, and I was super rude and just… all around weird when all you wanted to do was spend time with me. That was shitty of me! Like, super shitty. You brought me comics! You were trying to be nice! I should have given you a better explanation.

I should have had more faith in you, too. That day when you came by after… what happened with the viewing station, I should have had more faith in you. I think I just hated myself a lot in that moment, so I figured everyone else would hate me, too. I didn’t even, like, give you time to not hate me. And that sucked! That really sucked. I’m sorry I did that. You’re my friend. You’ve always been there for me. I know it wasn’t just because of the promise. I know you care about me, too.

Maybe she should have pushed harder. Maybe she should have dug the dagger of her love in a little hard, hilt pressed to Cass's beating heart. Had looked her in the eye and told her that no matter what, she'd always be there. But Cass knew, right? Based on this letter-- based on the look in Cass's eyes before she was taken out of the cave, she knew that even despite the frustration, despite the falsified anger, Cass knew that Van loved her. She had to hold onto that, had to cling to it in order breathe.

That makes all of this so much harder. I love you. I don’t want you to think I don’t. I love you, and you’re one of my favorite people. But… I don’t think this town is what I need right now. I can’t leave my dad, and I don’t want him to leave me, either, but I don’t think it’s good for me to be here. And I’m sorry that I don’t know if I’ll see you again. I know my dad needs time to adjust, to learn how to be, like, a person again, but I don’t know how much time he’ll need. It could be just a few months, and then I’ll be back and we’ll be totally laughing about this. Or… it could be a hundred years, and you’ll be gone. And if it is, if that’s what happens, I guess I just want you to know how much I care about you.

The moment Cass had walked into Wicked's Rest, it had decided to take her. It took her from all of them-- from Ariadne, Nora, Thea, Metzli. From others, it plunged its fist into her chest, pulling out every small part of her that could have ever allowed her to leave this place alive. Van thought about the anger she would have felt had this letter been left behind for her after Cass's departure. She could feel it even now, trailing along, brushing against her skin. It was Cass who was gone. Those hundreds of years she was supposed to have were now gone, body left to decay against the very thing she had tried to protect. Van was angry now, because what life would she have had had she been able to leave? Would she have succumbed to Makaio's anger, fueling it on his behalf? Bringing down any of those who opposed him? But that thought was cut down the moment it came to her, because Cass had proven she was stronger than his persuasion.

Van just wished it had happened later, to where Cass could come back to them. Where her smile would warm the room, and Van would lay across from her on the ground as they stared up at the ceiling, a bag of chips between them. Instead of this, they would speak of Cass's forever, or as close as she could get. They would guess what the future had in store, and Van would hate that she wouldn't be a part of it, but she would ask Cass to always remember her. Now, Van was the one to remember her-- to put every moment they had together in some kind of flashing reel of memories. She could see Cass's face so clearly, even now. The bright smile, the dark eyes-- the laughter that cut through the air. Van hated that Makaio had taken her laughter, her breath-- everything.

But Cass in turn had sacrificed it for them. The three of them-- her, Metzli, and Ariadne. And so Van knew that she wouldn't give up on Cass, even if she were gone.

It wasn’t your fault. None of it. Not what happened in the supermarket, and not anything that happened after. You were always a good friend, even when you were melting stuff. (Side note: the melting is actually kind of badass. Like, next level comic book hero stuff. You should call yourself Meltdown, tbh.) I’m super lucky to have you. And if I never see you again, I guess I just want to make sure that comes across. I love you. I’m never going to stop thinking about you, and I’m never going to forget you. I hope you don’t forget about me, either.

I hope we see each other again someday, Van. But no matter what, take care of yourself.

Love, Cass

Van couldn't help but laugh at the superhero name, even if the laughter hurt. It coiled in her chest, weaving around the hurt she felt in response to Cass's untimely demise. Cass's pulse continued even after the end of the letter. It continued with the love that she had for those mentioned on the other pages, and the love she had for those not written in. She thought of the love she had for her cave, for life in general-- for her father, even in the end. How Cass's acceptance had in turn caused Van to live another day.

Van continued to stare down at the letter, the edges of the paper crumpling in her hands as she dented the notebook. Her magic did not lash out in the way she hoped it would, anger blindingly painful. Instead, it soothed her. Because she would find a way to pay Cass back.

She had to, for her friend-- for the memory, for her sacrifice. The only reason any of the three of them were standing here was because of Cass, and Van couldn't let that go.

"I'm sorry," Van whispered as she continued reading over the letter addressed to her, committing the words to memory like she had done with her friend's frame.

#para: volo 3 #wickedswriting #parental death #emotional manipulation

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lesfeldickbiblestudy · 1 year ago

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What is the only way to be saved during this present age of grace? [convertplayer id="nMsTZKi9a" width="700" height="525"] Now let’s look at the Gospel as outlined in I Corinthians Chapter 15, and beginning with verse 1. I never tire of repeating it, and I hope you never get tired of hearing it. I Corinthians 15:1 "MOREOVER, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand;" "...wherein ye stand" is a positional term. That’s why he writes in another place that we are not to be blown about with every wind of doctrine. Some people are so shallow in their understanding of Scriptures, that they see someone on television or someone can come to their door and they have a good line, and a nice approach, and they fall for it. We are supposed to be so well versed in the Scriptures that something like that won’t happen. We are to be like an anchor, steadfast, immovable. Now verse 2. I Corinthians 15:2,3 "By which also ye are saved (it’s only by this Gospel that you are saved. It’s not by something else), if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain." And now here comes Paul’s Gospel in verse 3: "For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received (here he’s talking about what we saw in Galatians in our last lesson, how that by revelation, "He made known unto me," Paul says. This is what the Lord revealed to him. We will find that Paul’s Gospel is not based on the Judaistic Law, or just on the fact that Christ was the Messiah of Israel, but it’s that The Messiah of Israel, The Son of God, died on that Roman Cross, shed His Blood, was buried and rose again, and here it is), how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures;" This was in the Old Testament. It was all in the pre-eternal mind of God, that all of this would fall into place. I Corinthians 15:4-6a "And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures." That’s the Gospel! And to prove that Christ rose from the dead we see in verse 5 and 6 the following. "And that he was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve: After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once;..." Paul tells us that he also saw Him in person. Paul knew that He was alive. Now back to Romans 1:16. That’s The Gospel – that Christ died for the sins of the world. And that’s what Paul expressly desires to get across to people. It’s so hard for people to comprehend that this is all they have to do. Just believe the Gospel for Salvation. If you really believe He will save you. Now you know that I’m not an easy believer. You know that. I’m not just talking about making a mental acknowledgment and you’re all right. No, what I’m talking about is a Holy Spirit driven belief, that my eternal destiny is based on what He did for me on that Cross. And we will be seeing more and more of that, especially when we get into Romans Chapter 6, where Paul just begins to draw that simple analogy of a little seed that’s planted in the ground, but before that plant can come forth, and bring forth fruit it must die first. So the whole analogy is that, "When Christ died, we died. When He was buried, we were buried. When He arose from the dead, we also arose out of deadness in the old Adamic sin nature to a new life." Verse 16 again: Romans 1:16 "For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it (The Gospel, not our works, or denomination, not anything that we can do, but rather The Gospel) is the power of God unto salvation..." One of the newer translations waters this down by using the word ‘salvation’ as a better way to heaven. Salvation is much more than a better way to heaven. Salvation is that all inclusive work of God on our behalf, whereby we are forgiven: He justifies us, He sanctifies us, He glorifies us, He baptizes us into the Body, He seals us with the Holy Spirit, He fills us with the Holy Spirit, and on and on you can go in all t

hat was accomplished on your behalf by an act of God instantly the moment you believe. And you’re not going to necessarily feel any of those things, but they have happened to you if you were genuine in your belief. But how do I know that these things have happened to me? The Book says so. And that’s where faith comes in. That’s what The Book means when it says we are saved by faith and are to live and walk by faith. Taking God at His Word. So, you just simply have to know what The Book says. When you come to Salvation, and say, "I don’t understand this or feel any different," remember The Book says that it has happened. And that is what God is pleased by. Remember Hebrews 11:6: Hebrews 11:6a "But without faith it is impossible to please him:..." You should be able to say, "Yes, I know that I’m forgiven," not because I’m so perfect, or any better than anybody else, but simply because I believe what this Book says! I can’t make it any plainer than that. So when an individual realizes that he’s in the cesspool of sin, in that old slave market, and there is no hope of getting out, unless the power of God takes him out; God pulls him out of that deadness in sin, and gives him new life, sets his feet as the Scriptures say, "On a Rock," and does all these things for him. That’s what believing does! After that, you become a totally new person in your outlook on life, in your desires, and you don’t work for that. Remember, you won’t become a mature Christian overnight. It’s going to take time. The Christian life is like coming into physical life. We come into the Christian life as a babe in Christ, just an infant that needs tender loving care. An infant that needs nourishment, and protection. That’s what a new believer is. But God doesn’t expect a new believer to stay a babe in Christ. He expects them to begin to grow in Grace, and knowledge and wisdom. To grow in a new lifestyle. Over the years I’ve told my classes the basic fundamental aspect of a Christian life, the part that will immediately become visible to our friends and relatives, and yes, the whole community; a true born again child of God is going to be a good citizen. Have you ever thought of that? When we are a practicing believer, we will be a good citizen. In other words, you won’t find a true child of God giving the police department fits. Now there may be isolated instances, that’s always a possibility. But the basic believer will be a good citizen, and a good parent. He will be a good grandparent. He will be a good child. He will be a good teenager. Now that doesn’t mean we are perfect. Nevertheless, we will be the kind of person that will enhance society. If you could have a community of 100% born again believers, then you would have a pretty decent place to live. I’m not saying that it would be perfect. It’s just like the local church, no church is perfect. I said on this program once, if it was perfect I’d like to find it, but I wouldn’t dare join it because it would be no longer perfect. But, for the most part, God’s power unto salvation has imparted all these things on our behalf and they will make us different. That doesn’t give us the right to walk around like we are perfect, or better than everybody else. But what we have is an imputed position that God has accomplished on our behalf. We will look at that more in depth later in Chapter 3. Romans 1:16b "...for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first and also to the Greek." I said at the close of the last lesson that there were many things in there that normally people would think should be. Over the years, I have taught to be aware of what is not in Scripture that many of us think should be. Well, here is a good one. Let me read this verse the way a lot of people think it should have been written. This is just an example: "For it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that repents, and is baptized, joins the church, gives ten percent of his income, does good works, and believes."&n

bsp;But it doesn’t say that does it? There are a lot of these things that people just automatically think are requirements for Salvation, and they’re not! They are all right in their rightful place after Salvation. But so far as our salvation is concerned it’s based totally upon our faith in the Gospel, and what God has said concerning the finished work of the Cross.

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jdgo51 · 1 year ago

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How Does Your Garden Grow

Today's inspiration comes from:

The Garden Within

by Dr. Anita Phillips

You crown the year with a bountiful harvest; even the hard pathways overflow with abundance. — Psalm 65:11 NLT

Tabitha Brown is one of my favorite influencers. She’s a comedian, an actress, and the patron saint of vegan living. I am not a vegan, and I think that’s true of many of the millions of people who follow her on social media. We just can’t get enough of Tabitha’s oh-so-infectious energy. She always brings inspiration no matter what she’s communicating. At the same time, she has been open about the pain in her own life. It’s the authenticity for me. The bright colors she wears, her Southern charm, and her unapologetic love for Jesus make her downright irresistible. An encounter with Tabitha’s content feels like an encounter with pure joy. So when she launched her children’s show, Tab Time, I watched that too (despite my age falling well outside the target demographic). The first episode became an instant favorite for me because Tab (and her buddy Avi the Avocado) taught us about how things grow.1

The episode begins in Ms. Tab’s real-life garden. Then she and Avi whisk us off to a brightly animated fruit orchard where we meet an orange-tree seed named Marmalade. Marmalade tells us that all she needs to start growing is good ground and some water. Ms. Tab tucks Marmalade into the soil and waters her well. Then we all pretend our arms are the arms of a clock; together, we speed up time by making big arm circles. A few seconds later Marmalade reappears, but now she is no longer a seed but a full-grown orange tree bearing her first fruit. Less than seven minutes into the episode, the preschool children for whom the show was created have already learned all they need to know to understand how gardens grow.

The garden within may be a completely different way of thinking about how we were created and what it means to flourish, but when it comes to what you need to know to live this powerful life, you probably learned it in kindergarten or — at the latest — by the end of a middle school science class.

The Creator made things very simple for us. No wonder Scripture encourages us to come to Jesus with the heart of a child (Mark 10:15). Things are so much easier when we do. And when it comes to letting the Creator change what we believe about how we feel, the timing couldn’t be better.

Your emotional well-being influences every other dimension of your life, including your spirit.

It’s Okay Not to Be Okay

When we catch a glimpse of Tabitha’s real-life garden, it is too lush for words! It’s full of bright colors and fruits and vegetables; this garden is useful. I don’t know Tabitha personally, but I wouldn’t be surprised if her garden looks exactly the way she wants her life to feel — a reflection of her goals for her garden within.

If you could design a garden that looked the way you want your life to feel, what would it look like? What would be growing there? Now ask yourself,

How is my inner garden looking? Don’t feel bad if the soil needs attention. Don’t be surprised or upset if you notice that some areas are bare, some are growing well, and others are dying. You’re not alone. In fact, a lot of people are not okay right now.

As I write these words, multiple global crises are affecting us all. It started in 2020 and it hasn’t slowed down. I’m not just talking about the coronavirus. I’m talking about the mental health pandemic that it triggered. Covid-19 claimed a staggering number of lives in a very short period of time, leaving a trail of emotional devastation in its wake. With every death, an average of five loved ones are left grieving long-term.2 That means that as of late 2022, more than thirty-three million people were grappling with the trauma attached to grieving someone who died not only unexpectedly but unimaginably, from a disease that seemed to come out of nowhere.3

There were other life-altering losses to grieve as well. So many of us missed attending not only funerals but weddings, baby showers, graduations, and milestone birthdays and anniversaries. These are the ceremonial moments that chart the timeline of our lives, shared memories that entwine us in relationship and in community.

On top of that, the way we understood and organized our lives fundamentally changed. People lost jobs. People lost homes. People lost businesses and dreams. People lost sobriety. People lost their sense of safety, and whether they have admitted it or not, some people lost their faith.

All that to say, a lot of people are not okay right now, and that likely includes you or someone you love very much. During 2020, global cases of major depressive disorder increased by 27.6 percent. That’s an estimated 53.2 million more people than the year prior. Anxiety disorders increased by 25 percent. There was more anxiety to start with, so that increase amounted to around 76.2 million more people.4 Of course, that’s just counting the people we know about. So many others haven’t sought help, so we don’t have reliable confirmation. But like diabetes or heart disease, the diagnosis doesn’t create reality; it just points it out. Maybe you haven’t been formally diagnosed with depression, anxiety, or another mental health problem, but that doesn’t mean what you are struggling with isn’t real.

For the first time during my career, a significant number of mental health professionals have waiting lists. We can barely keep up with the demand. And from college kids to clergy, Christians are by no means exempt. At Christian colleges and universities, the number of students contacting campus counseling centers for issues like stress, depression, addictions, and suicidal thoughts also rose sharply.5 The pastors striving to lead these young people as part of their congregations found themselves struggling too. In an October 2021 Barna study, pastors were asked to rate their well-being across six dimensions. Nearly a quarter of pastors surveyed identified as unhealthy overall, with emotional well-being the dimension most often rated as below average or poor.6

Hear ye, hear ye! Knowing Jesus guarantees your salvation; it does not guarantee your emotional health. Reflecting on the lack of emotional awareness in the body of Christ, author Peter Scazzero writes this in his incredibly important book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality:

Christian spirituality, without an integration of emotional health, can be deadly — to yourself, your relationship with God, and the people around you... Sad to say, that is the fruit of much of our discipleship in our churches.7

He goes on to say that “a failure to appreciate the biblical place of feelings within our larger Christian lives has done extensive damage, keeping free people in Christ in slavery.”8 As a therapist and as a minister, I see this over and over and over. Christians haven’t had a scriptural model for understanding the critical role of the heart, so our response efforts have been unbalanced. But now you know that

your emotional well-being influences every other dimension of your life, including your spirit. Remember, the words of the Kingdom are constantly being sown in the ground of your heart, so nourishing the fertility of that sacred seedbed is Kingdom work. Living a powerful life requires you to embrace how your spirit, mind, and behavior work together seamlessly. That means approaching your own heart as a garden rather than a war zone where you’re constantly battling your emotions. Eden is our model for flourishing. The seeds of the garden of Eden were sown on good ground. That ground is our hearts.

Your heart is the soil of your life.

Tab Time, season 1, episode 1, “How Things Grow,” produced by Tabitha Brown, published December 1, 2021, YouTube video, 22:34, https://youtu.be /zUTZEk32tc8. Erika Krull, “Grief by the Numbers: Facts and Statistics,” The Recovery Village Drug and Alcohol Rehab, May 26, 2022, https://www.therecoveryvillage.com /mental-health/grief/grief-statistics/. “WHO COVID-19 Dashboard,” World Health Organization, accessed April 19, 2023, https://covid19.who.int. Damian F. Santomauro et al., “Global Prevalence and Burden of Depressive and Anxiety Disorders in 204 Countries and Territories in 2020 Due to the COVID- 19 Pandemic,” The Lancet 398, no. 10312 (November 2021): 1700–12, https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140–6736(21)02143–7. Helen Huiskes, “It Takes a Campus: Pandemic Expands Mental Health Resources at Christian Colleges,” Christianity Today, December 17, 2021, https:// www.christianitytoday.com/news/2021/december/christian-college-mental -health-counseling-pandemic-demand.html. “38% of U.S. Pastors Have Thought About Quitting Full-Time Ministry in the Past Year,” Barna, November 16, 2021, https://www.barna.com/research/pastors -well-being/. Peter Scazzero, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality: It’s Impossible to Be Spiritually Mature, While Remaining Emotionally Immature (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2017), 9, 44. Scazzero, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, 44.

Excerpted with permission from The Garden Within by Dr. Anita Phillips, copyright Dr. Anita L. Phillips.

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sunspray-peak · 2 years ago

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Ch. 6: Can You Tell the Difference?

SUNDAY - SPRING 7

After resolutely declaring to himself that he would never go down the mines or into the forest he had since learned was Cindersap ever again—no magic, no gelatinous slimes, no wilderness, no distractions, no thank you, I like my wildlife domesticated—Achilles had spent the week recovering from his fall within the safe confines of Strawberry Farms.

If he had had his way, he would’ve been out on the land the very next day. But a nasty pain in his upper back had kept him chained to his desk, and so, searching for other ways to maximize his productivity and make up for any lost time, he had spent the week finalizing blueprints and putting together shopping lists.

Flower seeds, new wallpaper, new fences, new wood, paint stripper, new paint, paint brushes, mulch—just a few of the 43 bullets scrawled in his notebook.

He was more than ready to order it all with 2 day delivery and jump right into the “Official Renovation & Modernization of Strawberry Farms” (the official mission’s name, according to the post-it note on his mirror). He had even spent the past few days sketching out possible layouts and garden arrangements—who needed a landscape architecture degree when you had the Internet, right? Even if it was the slowest Yoba-damned signal on the planet…

But none of that mattered right now. Because first, as he sourly remembered, he had to clear the farm of its debris.

He had always been inclined to do things himself when he could, and this chore was no different. After hobbling about the property three days ago to confirm his original measurements, he had concluded that, despite having little to no on-the-ground experience, perhaps it could be—fun, was not quite the right word, but maybe a “worthy challenge”—to not outsource all the work.

And so, after his morning jog (a habit he had formed six years ago that would take more than some bruises and leftover soreness to break), he made his way over to Pierre’s to grab his usual lavender earl grey and some yard gloves.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to plant some cauliflower, you know,” the store manager said, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he adjusted his glasses.

“Flowers over function, Pierre.” Achilles handed over the $6.75. “I’m trying to sell this thing.”

“And what better way to sell than to show off its farming capabilities!” Pierre held Achilles’ tea hostage in his hands, and, ignoring Achilles’ response regarding maintenance, turned to his other shoppers for support. “Alex, Haley, tell this man he needs to plant some cauliflower.”

A very pretty blonde had just appeared around the corner of the baked goods aisle, a yoga mat and blocks tucked under her arms. She merely shot a withering look towards the counter, but whether it was intended for Achilles or Pierre, Achilles wasn’t quite sure.

“Achilles, you really need to plant some cauliflower!” Alex popped out from behind the woman, cradling a dozen eggs and what seemed to be Haley’s purse—a small pastel blue thing that Achilles couldn’t help but immediately recognize as last season’s Kelly Heart. Good ol’ Kelly, she’d be happy to see her designs out in the Ferngill countryside…

The overall sight of Alex holding the woman’s purse, however, elicited a flash of annoyance—or was it jealousy?—in Achilles. But he quickly shrugged it off as Alex introduced his companion. “You haven’t met Haley, have you?”

She offered him her hand, but with her palm and fingers facing down as if she expected Achilles to kneel and kiss it. “So you’re the new farmer boy, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a farmer,” Achilles said, refusing to bend down and instead grasping her fingers delicately and giving them a single light shake before stepping back. “Achilles, it’s nice to meet you.”

Haley flashed a tight, perfectly glossed smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she placed a boxed fruit salad on the counter. “Oh, right. You’re an author, Alex mentioned it…” As Pierre counted out her change, she looked back at Achilles, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she nodded at his button down. “Is that Toutes Les Filles?”

“Oh. Yes. You’re familiar?” Achilles worked to keep the surprise out of his tone—didn’t want to come across as patronizing—but he had been somewhat impressed. The shirt was from a collection that had dropped only two weeks ago.

She nodded without looking at him, taking her quarters from Pierre. “Emily is, more than me, but I learn. How nice.”

With another tight lipped smile, she took back her purse and left the men, making her way further into the general store where, Pierre explained, Caroline held a yoga class three times a week for just $5, if he’d ever like to join.

“My tea, Pierre. Please.” Achilles nodded curtly at the cup still on the cashier’s side of the counter.

“Ah, yes, of course… oh, I’ll make you another if you want to give one to Lewis.” Before Achilles could respond, the general store manager began pouring another steaming cup. “It’s his birthday today. You tell me yours and I’ll put it on the calendar outside.”

“Does Lewis even like tea?” Achilles asked wryly, fishing in his pocket for another $1.25. Another day having failed to sell seeds, it seemed Pierre would be damned if he couldn’t milk at least another dollar from Achilles in some way or another.

“Oh yeah, loves it.” Pierre ripped open a tiny pack of sugar. “So when’s the birthday?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Fall 27—don’t think I’ll still be here by the time that rolls around.” He made to leave, but stopped when he heard Alex’s outburst.

“Spirit’s Eve!” The boy had reemerged from the baking aisle. “What a coincidence!”

Pierre frowned. “No, Alex, you were born in Summer.”

“Ohhhh whoops, I see, thank you, Pierre.” Alex dropped some chocolate chips and flour alongside his eggs onto the counter. “No, I mean it’s a coincidence ‘cause Fall 27 is also Spirit’s Eve.”

Pierre gazed blankly between the two boys.

“Because of his books? Cause they’re all… spooky…?”

Pierre smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh! I see.”

He definitely does not see.

“$5.34 please.”

Alex grimaced, but Achilles, standing several feet behind, allowed himself a small smile at this brief, but insistent, bit of recognition.

It turned out, Sebastian had also been a fan of his books—he’d even read Apparition—but Seb, (unfortunately, for Achilles’ ego) hadn’t been the fanboy type. He had simply said to him in private, “Had a big Henry Spector phase. Apparition deserved better.” And that was it.

Achilles, at least, had the self-awareness to recognize he didn’t particularly deserve any further acknowledgment, but still… like, yes, Seb, he had thought saltily after the brief conversation. Give us nothing!

“I swear I’m not a stalker, I don’t, like, know everything about you,” Alex said as the two turned to leave the general store.

“I wouldn’t call knowing the genre of my books stalker behavior.” Achilles pushed open the door with his shoulder, sniffing the teas to make sure which was which before downing his earl grey. His ego wasn’t the only thing parched.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true… hey, what are you up to this afternoon? I’ve got today off if you wanna do anything. No pressure, though.”

Achilles missed a step, nearly sloshing tea over his $250 shirt.

“Oh.” He quickly licked the lid and smoothly straightened himself up before raising the second cup. “Delivering this to Lewis, apparently. But I was planning on getting started on clearing the farm. Lost a few days with everything, and, well… quite a bit to do there if I want to get it sold by end of Summer.”

Alex stopped abruptly. “You’re not planning on staying?”

“Oh, yeah, no, that was the whole thing with Pierre and the cauliflower just now. I’ve lived in the city my whole life, I don’t know if I’d love it here long term. It’s… different.”

“I thought you said you were coming out here for a fresh start!”

“I am!” Achilles attempted to scratch his nose with his free pinkie. “But not in like… the ‘life’ way.”

“What other way is there?”

“Like… in a… career… way…?” It was like being back in a pitch and being asked a question he hadn’t prepared for. Hell, it was like his meeting with Rasmodius. Except this time, with this man, he was unable to bullshit his way out of it. Achilles averted his gaze. “I told you I quit advertising. I don’t know, I figured maybe I’d try out… real estate…?”

He was just making things up as he went now. Just hurtling down a road without a destination in mind—you didn’t see this coming? Of course people are going to ask you what your plan it. Idiot!

He shoved the thought aside.

“Real estate? So you’re just fixing up the farm to sell it? To some outsider?”

Achilles winced. “I’m afraid so.”

Those large, green eyes gazed sadly into Achilles’ own. It was almost rather too sad and pathetic, in Achilles’ astute opinion—clearly a well-practiced performance from a man used to using it to get whatever he wanted. The attention and concern were flattering, even if faked, but Achilles made sure to hold the faux-despair at arm’s length even as he felt his heart melt ever so slightly.

“And here I was, ready to offer to help you fix it up. But now…” Alex looked at his feet, shaking his head somberly.

“Oh…”

“Nah, I’m just kidding.” Alex looked up, blinked once, and continued walking, the abrupt transition confirming, to Achilles’ ever so slight chagrin, it had indeed likely been an act. “I’ll drop these off at my place and meet you by Lewis’ if that works—maybe we can grab some tools from Clint.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey, does it feel like I’m betraying the Valley by preparing the farm for enemy hands? Yeah. But do I also need something to get me out of the house today so that my grandpa doesn’t yell at me to re-mow our 1 inch tall lawn? Also yes. So you’re in luck.”

*****

Lewis, who was out tending his flower beds, had thanked him for the tea which was now resting next to an open bag of mulch. Much like Pierre, he quickly transitioned into attempting to persuade Achilles to actually use his farm to, well, farm, citing with a slightly deranged wave of his arms (Achilles taking a polite step back to avoid the spade in his hand) that “It’ll be real great for the wider community to see old Strawberry Farms up and running again.”

But Achilles merely smiled politely and dodged the argument much like how he dodged the spade, smoothly stating he first had to clear the land before anyone could think about farming anything anyway.

“That’s a big job for just you,” Lewis said, eyeing him closely.

“Alex offered to help.”

“Eh. You bring those hooligans with you, too,” Lewis said, nodding at Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian who had just careened down the cobblestone path from Sam’s house up towards the general store. “Why don’t you show ‘em how an upstanding member of the community acts.”

*****

Across the river, Achilles met Clint the blacksmith, a rather strange, stout man of very few words. Those of which did make it out of his mouth were mumbled, and Achilles had to ask the man to repeat himself several times. Nevertheless, he seemed happy enough to let Achilles and Alex carry away some tools—axes and pickaxes and scythes for the waist high weeds that were snaking all along the land—and refused any payment.

“Just, er… bring ‘em back, is all,” Clint muttered nervously, avoiding eye contact.

Alex agreed with Lewis that they could use the help. The trio were easy enough to find—one just had to follow the sounds of raucous laughter to the public park (aptly called Pelican Park) right by the community center. Abigail, who had recovered incredibly quickly from her justifiable meltdown five days ago, was more than eager to help clear the farm, and as Achilles had been quick to learn, whatever she did, the other two were typically willing to do as well (or be bullied into it).

“It’s kind of a shame, really,” Abigail said as the group made their way onto the Strawberry Farms. Her eyes, rather wistful, swept the property. “I always enjoyed exploring these overgrown fields.”

“Pardon?”

Abigail took the scythe Alex had offered her and proceeded to pass it on to Sebastian. “Oh yeah,” she reiterated without a trace of shame. She reached for a pickaxe (“Gotta built up that upper body strength, Alex! You of all people should get it.”). “The three of us spent quite a lot of time around here before you came around.”

Achilles grimaced, pushing aside the various worst case scenarios that had popped into his head. Illegal drug stashing? Ritualistic sacrifice? Buried bodies?

“Don’t worry, I never heard of any weird orgies being held on your farm,” Alex whispered, handing Achilles an axe. “Or, at least, I was never invited to any.”

“Thank you for that.”

His research had informed him the city would pick up any debris and trimmings from Clint’s, so he had ordered a few wheelbarrows and stationed them strategically about the property.

After outlining his plan to the ragtag group (not that there was too much of one with as straightforward a goal as clearing the land), they split up, Abigail and Sam to tackle some small boulders towards the west, Sebastian down to the pond where the surrounding weeds had been particularly bad, and Alex and Achilles over by the dilapidated greenhouse to break down the numerous stray branches and way overgrown oak and maple saplings.

Now, Achilles had never held an axe before in his life. Why would he have ever needed to? To prepare for the scenario, he had watched as many videos that would buffer (meaning two) the night before and had read multiple step by step tutorials. But now, with the wooden handle actually in his hands, he wasn’t quite sure he was doing any of it right.

He gave a couple of awkward practice swings—nope, that was definitely not it, he desperately thought as the axe nearly slipped out of his grasp.

He eyed Alex who had already started chopping a few feet away, and immediately changed his stance, moving his hands closer together towards the bottom of the handle. A couple more practice swings… Nice. Nice. That already felt lightyears better.

And he didn’t even have to ask for help.

*****

“I’m pretty impressed, city boy.” Alex rested his axe against the only greenhouse wall that was still standing, cracked and dingy as it was. He ran his hand through his hair, slightly futzing with the gel as a few strands came loose. Seemed to be a habit. “We’re doing pretty good work.”

He was right. They had been making better progress than Achilles had anticipated—it had only been a couple of hours and one of their two designated wheelbarrows was already filled to the brim with wood.

Doesn’t hurt I’ve got a literal Greek god helping me. Yoba, seeing Alex’s arms swing that axe…

“Pretty impressed, you said, hmm?” Achilles handed him a bottle of water, having just come back from delivering rations to the rest of the troops who, judging by the state of their wheelbarrows, had been significantly less productive. “Didn’t think I’d keep up?”

Alex flashed a grin and shrugged, twisting off the cap and chugging half the bottle in a series of rapid gulps before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hey. What’d you play?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like what sport did you play?”

“I can’t just be naturally athletic?”

“You can, but I’ve been watching, I can tell the difference.”

Ah. Achilles’ heart skipped a beat. So he’d been watching.

“Well, you know I run.” After accidentally passing Alex at the bus stop on Thursday, he had been timing his morning jogs with a bit more care. No one looks cooler than someone at the very start of their run (maximum energy but minimum sweat, you see).

“Yeah, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?” Alex lifted the corner of his shirt to wipe a speck of sweat off his forehead—Achilles quickly turned aside to drink from his own water. In his worn out state, he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally stare. “It’s been awhile, but you definitely played something more… is organized the right word? Like for school?”

“Hmm, yeah, it’s been a bit,” Achilles admitted, twisting the cap of his bottle back on. “Tennis.”

“Ahh…”

“I was a fencer too, but I really haven’t done that in years.”

“Fencing? Like with the swords and stuff?”

Achilles nodded, tossing his bottle between his hands. “They only weigh about a pound though, or at least a foil does.”

Alex shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t know people actually did that in real life.”

“Oh yes, believe it or not, young man, we fencers do actually exist outside of television.” Achilles raised his pinky and pretended to take another sip. “A sport long lost among you country folk, but the practice of which has long lasting, significant impact on the fencers form and figure, of which you may have observed.”

He had wanted to call Alex out more directly for watching him—tease him, ask him why—but it had felt too forward. Too flirtatious. Which typically wasn’t a problem for Achilles, but at this stage of his life, right here, right now, it wasn’t what he wanted. Or needed. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but slide that last phrase into his retort and wait to see if Alex would take the bait.

“Oh yeah, I did observe.” At Alex’s confirmation, Achilles’ heart began to race—only to instantly drop into his stomach and dissolve into a small pathetic pool of acid. “Had no choice. Don’t know much about fencing form, but man, your axe handling? Had to make sure you weren’t about to accidentally chop my legs off—don’t think I didn’t notice you watching me at the beginning of all this trying to figure out how to hold one correctly.” Mischief danced in Alex’s eyes as he took another drink.

Ah. Well, Achilles had had to make swifter recoveries before in the conference room.

“I see. So you saw me struggle and decided to say nothing—you understand you’d have no one to blame but yourself if I sliced your legs off?”

Alex whipped the rest of his water at Achilles.

*****

The hardy little group toiled throughout the day, pausing only for lunch. Achilles had been ready to call in a delivery order, but Sam’s little brother, Vincent, had arrived at 1pm with a large tray of various sandwiches, courtesy of their mother, Jodi.

By late afternoon, they had not only filled all the wheelbarrows and lugged them into Pelican Town and across the river to Clint’s, but had also made several neat stacks of debris to make tomorrow’s haul easier.

“But looks like we hardly did a damn thing,” Sebastian remarked, as the group stood on the porch to survey the day’s hard work. And it was arguably true—in the grand scheme of the mess his grandpa had left behind, it looked as if they had only scratched the surface.

“Hey don’t be a debbie downer.” Abigail nudged Sebastian with her shoulder. “We did lots of stuff.”

“Sure…”

“Won’t be able to help as much tomorrow, I’m afraid,” Alex said. “But I can try to swing by after work if you’re going late?”

“Same,” said Sam who, Achilles had learned, was working at JojaMart alongside Shane. Abigail also chimed in, happy to help after her online lectures.

Sebastian, whom Achilles knew managed his own programming business and therefore managed his own hours, did not volunteer. But that wasn’t unexpected.

Not a hint of muscle on that guy.

“No.” Achilles shook his head. He reached for their tools, stacking them along the porch wall. “Don’t worry about it—you shouldn’t have to do more work after your real work. I’ll figure out a plan.”

In fact, he had actually already figured out the aforementioned plan, not that it was much of a plan than a mere continuation. But a little mental math and an approximation of how much they had gotten done today (actually quite a bit more than Sebastian’s cursory glance could discern) and he estimated he could actually finish clearing the farm about three quarters of the way into the season, even if it were just him alone every day (worst case scenario). And that fit well enough within his “Official Renovation & Modernization of Strawberry Farms” timeline.

All was good. There would just be something to do every day, but that’s what he wanted, right?

The group merrily made to exit the farm—all had refused compensation, so Achilles was treating them to a hearty, well-deserved dinner at the saloon—when something caught Achilles’ eye.

“Do you see that?” He whipped around and pointed at the orange wheelbarrow resting by the greenhouse.

“Huh?”

“See what?”

“I’m hungry.”

Brows furrowed, Achilles squinted through the setting sun’s rays. He could’ve sworn he had seen something there—something round, the size of a basketball perhaps, and purple. Definitely visible against the orange bin. Sure, he was tired as hell, just like he had been that day he first arrived, but he was confident this time. It wasn’t an exhaustion-induced hallucination. Something was there.

“I swear, it was… bouncing.” He pointed again. But nobody, including himself, could make anything, bouncing or otherwise, out.

“Yeah, I don’t see anything, bro.” Sam clapped him on the back. “Come on. Sounds like you need some food in ya.”

*****

“Your mom is Apolline Desrosiers!”

Achilles glanced up at the blue haired girl who had come to take their order. “Hmm? Oh. Yes, she is.”

“Oh my god, she’s amazing.”

He set the menu he had been examining down and began to pour himself a glass of water from the jug this willowy waitress had brought over. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

“Haley was telling me about you—I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection earlier, I’m in love with her work, and like, what she’s done for sustainability in the industry—ugh, I’m sorry, Apolline is just, like, one of my heroes.”

“One of mine, too, really,” Achilles said with a smile that he supposed was only half-forced. “But I suppose I can forgive you. I’ve been told I look more like my father, and we obviously don’t share a last name.”

“Maybe not officially—” Alex said in a carrying whisper to nobody in particular as Achilles rose from his seat and leaned over to offer his hand.

“Achilles, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh geeze, of course, sorry.” The girl shoved her notepad into her apron and took his hand. “Emily, I’m Haley’s sister. It’s great to meet you. So…” She looked around the table. “Y’all ready to order?”

The saloon’s fare seemed to err on the heavier side, but Achilles managed to find a risotto that sounded nice enough.

“…and two lemonades. Great, I’ll have those drinks out for you in a minute, you guys let me know if you need anything else in the meantime. And Achilles—you’re going to love it here in Pelican Town, I can read it on your face.” With a friendly wink, Emily walked back to the bar.

“Apolline Desrosiers… why did you take your mother’s name for your books?” Sebastian asked, pouring himself a second glass from the pitcher. “Trying to distance yourself from your dad?”

Achilles rested his elbows on the table and neatly folded his straw wrapper.

“Nah, Robinson is common enough as it is, and I doubt any casual reader would make the connection since he writes for television anyway… Honest answer?” Achilles tucked his smile into his glass, watched the waiting crowd as he took a long gulp—anything to build what was a rather undramatic reveal just a bit more. “Because then my first and last names would sound equally pretentious.”

“No,” Sebastian said as the rest of the chorus laughed. “That’s really it?”

Achilles nodded, setting the glass back down. “Well maybe not pretentious, but Achilles Desrosiers looks a hell of a lot more mysterious on a cover than Achilles Robinson, wouldn’t you say?”

Sebastian shrugged his acquiescence. “Sure… a little hard for fifth graders to pronounce though.”

“Oh, but what are children’s books for if not to build valuable reading skills,” Achilles said, adding lazy jazz hands for a more self-deprecating dramatic effect this time.

Or perhaps he was genuinely mocking himself, for writing for children had eventually come to greatly pain him. But these people didn’t need to know that.

*****

After a few minutes, Emily returned with five plates and a tray of drinks expertly balanced in her hands. Dishing them out with some rather admirable handwork, she gave them a spritely little bow before returning to the bar.

“Every time I look at you I feel bad,” Abigail pouted as they began to dig into their dinners. She had chosen the seat directly across from him, thank goodness, for Achilles couldn’t stand the cigarette smoke that clung to Sebastian.

He looked up to see her touch her forehead. Achilles instinctively reached for his own, his fingers tracing the bandaid he had used to cover up (and prevent him from picking at) what was, in his eyes, a rather gross scab.

He preemptively waved away the apology he knew she was gearing up to deliver for the umpteenth time. “Don’t worry about it, nothing to do with you. Let’s all agree to blame the Wizard, shall we?”

“Hey, yo, when it heals, maybe you’ll have a really badass scar.” Oh Sam, always determined to look on the bright side in some way or another. Abigail nodded, waving her fried chicken wing in agreement.

A “bad ass” scar straight across his temple was not even close to what Achilles wanted on his face, but he smiled and instead asked a question that had been on his mind since that disastrous day.

“Speaking of the Wizard.” He delicately wiped his mouth with the corner of the napkin resting on his lap. “Who is he? What does he do, exactly—”

“OOH! I forgot you met him—”

“Abby, that was literally the reason Achilles disappeared—”

“What did he talk to you about? He, like, never talks to anyone in town, just sort of skulks around and keeps to himself—except for Spirit’s Eve, obviously—but I’ve asked my parents about him since they were both born here and, like, he’s been around for forever and they’re always like super weird about it, like they hate talking about him, so I guess he’s always just kind of been a menace.” She took a breath to swallow the chicken she had been rather aggressively gnashing on during her little speech. “So what did he want with you? You must be important.”

That word again. Don’t overthink it.

Achilles took a sip from his lemonade. “He just said something about passing a test he had put in the center. Something to do with magic.”

“Ooo!” Abigail grabbed Sam’s arm in her excitement. “I passed that test when I was a kid. Well, actually, no—not the Wizard’s test, just like the school test. Alex, you passed too, right?”

Alex nodded.

“Test?”

“They didn’t have the test in fancy pants Monstera?” Alex asked. “Weird, you’d think they would’ve.”

“Magic’s not as big in the cities.” It was Sam who had responded, to Achilles’ vague surprise— especially given that Sam was wrong and Achilles had taken the test in the third grade. And failed. But that didn’t seem pertinent anymore, maybe, so he kept it to himself and let Abigail explain.

“They test at all the Zuzu schools. I think it’s ‘cause the county is built on some ley line for the Elemental Walls or whatever. Just a test in middle school to see if you have any, like, natural talent for magic, in case you, I dunno, want to really learn more and be a magician.”

“It’s a scam so that Ferngill can train and then propaganda magicians into the military to fight that dumbass war with Gotoro.”

“Thanks for that, Seb,” Sam said, shooting him a glare.

Achilles smoothly redirected the conversation back to Abigail. “So you passed? I’m surprised you didn’t go for it.” Of all people to jump at the chance to be a magician—the potential for adventure… well, Abigail seemed the perfect subject.

“Yeah… Mom and Dad were not happy when we got the results,” she said with a shrug. “They didn’t want me getting caught up in any of that stuff so I never got learn—like I said, magic and the Wizard give them the heebie jeebies or something. Alex, you didn’t go for it either, right?”

“Definitely not.”

So there were others in the valley with a natural aptitude for magic then? Correction: a “measurable” aptitude for magic.

Of course, a natural affinity didn’t really mean much at all—magic was teachable (of course, it was significantly easier if you had a natural gift, but even that was known to come and go at any age), and its branches widely diverse (everything from teleportation to hypnotism to even lucid dreaming supposedly had its roots in magic). It was Achilles who had had a special meeting with the Wizard, not Abigail, not Alex. So surely that meant something, right? Even if he had failed his city’s version of this “test”… yes, magic could be learned, maybe something had changed over the years…

Was this his chance to start the new life he wanted? His way to honor the family name?

And Rasmodius had mentioned something about the Valley potentially needing him… was this his destiny? Was this the real reason why he was here? Not to just sell a farm, but something… greater…

He shook his head. Stupid thoughts. It didn’t matter. No, no, he wasn’t going to be staying in Stardew, chumming it up with any kind of homicidal wizards for too much longer. He had his little plan to follow, right? Neatly outlined in twenty plus bullet points taped right under the “Official Renovation & Modernization of Strawberry Farms” sticky note on his mirror.

*****

“All jokes aside, you sure we can’t persuade you to stay in Stardew any longer?” Alex watched Achilles as he signed the saloon receipt with a flourish, a sharp and angular signature he had spent half a decade honing.

The question sent a soft thrum through his heart, but Achilles was quick to clamp down as they stood from the booth. “Hmm, like I said earlier, I’m not quite sure the countryside is for me, really. Was nearly murdered by a Wizard and I’ve been here one week.”

“You know, fair enough.”

Sebastian, leading the way out of the booth, opened the door just as a rather disgruntled looking Shane burst in, pushing the small group to the side with barely a blink and making straight for the bar. He’d already downed a pint before the group had even managed to all step outside.

“Before you go though, my grandparents do want to have you over for dinner—Egg Festival good day for you? I know you’ve got your list of things to do and stuff… You like cookies?”

“Who doesn’t like cookies?”

“I don’t know, don’t fancy people sometimes have weird diets? What’s your favorite kind, my grandma was asking.”

“Hmm, I suppose I’m a sucker for a snickerdoodle.”

Alex made a face. “Snickerdoodles? You monster—what’s wrong with chocolate chip?”

“Nothing! I just… I’m more a vanilla guy. When it comes to sweets.”

“Fine, I’ll let my grandma know, but you’re crazy. So Egg Festival work for you?”

The trio had said their farewells, but Alex had lingered a minute under the streetlight whose soft, golden halo illuminated the bronze in his hair. He smiled, and Achilles smiled back. “Yeah. That sounds good with me.”

#chapter 6 #llnks #sunspraypeak #sdv alex #stardew valley alex #sdv fanfic #stardew valley fanfic #sdv oc

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lets-talk-spirituality · 2 years ago

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If i’m honest i’m asking bc i just have no had good luck in love lately. I wonder if i’m searching in the wrong places? If i’m looking for something that doesn’t exist? Just confused and down in luck with the romantic aspect of my life. I feel like i’m always the lover never the loved…

-N

Hi! I definitely understand what you’re going through. Let’s see what comes up!

Deep purple, I see someone sitting on the ground in meditation, deep purple can represent the crown chakra, which connects to source, maybe there is a need to connect more with source, heal your crown chakra, I sort of just see someone with legs crossed, meditating and they are like levitating, with mandalas behind them, but I can’t tell who that it is or what that really means,

Soulmate, are you there?

Hi! Hi! Hi! The only thing that matters is your relationship to source. I’ve been spending a lot of time focused on spirituality lately because what’s happening in the world is just so depressing, empty, but I feel so much peace in meditation. I think it would help you too. Just finding a way to clear the mind. We can connect there you know. I already connect with you in meditation. It’s really nice but more importantly, I connect with my true essence. Until you connect deeply with your true essence we can not be soul mates, right now we are just humans with a soul, but we have to be souls having a human experience. Do you see? Soul leads everything. It’s something they taught me in the quiet I’ve cultivated. I think you need to cultivate some of this quiet, this silence too. Love cannot come when you don’t know yourself. Because when you truly know yourself you recognize yourself as love. We may not meet in this life, but that does not mean love is unavailable to you. It’s not that I don’t want to meet, but I’ve seen all the winding paths, and sometimes I feel like I may be alone to focus on spirituality. I hope you focus on it too, because the more you do, the more will come to you. I love you regardless of it all. Whether we meet or not doesn’t concern me and it shouldn’t concern you. You will come to find divine has it all aligned and when you can let go, you can let love in. Until we meet again, keep the faith and smile in the face of adversity for it is growing you.

Card Pull from Work Your Light Oracle

Cards were falling out! So yes I think you need some extra guidance and you got four cards very quickly!

Mintakan— longing for home, belonging, the original lightworkers

Ohhh I touched on them before. Mintakans are a starseed and maybe you should look into them and see what resonates. The card shows a mermaid like creature looking out at sea, I think there is this sadness you carry inside and I think it may be from rejecting that which makes you unique and it has made you feel like you don’t belong, I think trying to reclaim yourself through challenging yourself and exploring life can be healing, I can also see that maybe a break or vacation by the water can be deeply rejuvenating. Maybe even a magic bath would help.

Anna, grandmother of Jesus—seeding the light, laying foundations, divine plan

This first says to me, look to your grandmothers and mother to see wounding in their life and how it may mirror your own wounding or if there are ways you are being asked to clear out some generational curse, furthermore, this tells me that everything is as it should be right now, divine plan is orchestrating it all, foundations are being laid energetically for you that you cannot see and all you can do it focus on seeding the light within yourself and within others, very sort of what your soul mate seems to be focusing on at the moment as well.

Boundaries— where do you need to establish better boundaries

Based on all these cards I’m feeling you may be someone who gives too much of yourself, may be empathic and compassionate. It’s a hard lesson many of us sensitive people learn, and it’s when to put yourself first and how to not feel guilt, maybe boundary issues are part of that maternal line thing I was mentioning before, where does your mother or grandmother compromise themselves for others and how is that bleeding into your mindset and life?

Yes— just say yes

This goes along with what I was saying earlier, and I wonder if you may have some blocks towards spirituality. Can you say yes to meditation and reclaiming these parts of yourself? Spirit is asking you to do so.

I hope this helps and resonates! I think right now your soul connection (which may or may not be romantic, I couldn’t tell) really is urging you to connect with spirituality and the cards bring up starseeds, seeding light, saying yes and boundaries it seems like now you need to be self focused and to find ways to feed your own soul first. Much love to you, N! Feel free to ask any questions if you need clarity. 💜

#channeled message #channeled reading

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kastlequill · 1 year ago

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your secret is safe with me / and if secrets were like seeds / when i’m lying under marble / marvel at flowers you’ll have made

i didn’t care much, how long i lived / but i swear i thought i dreamed her / she never asked me once about the wrong i did

when you move / i can recall something that’s gone from me / when you move / honey, i’m put in awe of something so flawed and free

how long i’ve been away / the shape that i’m in now / you’re shaping the doorway / make your good love known to me / just tell me about your day

in a few days / i would be there, love / ever here that’s left in / me is yours just as it was

oh, and these colors fade for you only / hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight

you know the distance never made a difference to me / i swam a lake of fire, i’d have walked across the floor of any sea

i’d walk so far just to take / the injury of finally knowing you

know that i would gladly be / the icarus to your certainty / strap the wing to me / death trap clad happily / with wax melted, i’d meet the sea

there’s no plan, there’s no kingdom to come / i’ll be your man if you got love to get done / sit in and watch the sunlight fade / honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late

i know who i am / when i’m alone / i’m something else when i see you / you don’t understand, you should never know / how easy you are to need

my babe would never fret none / about what my hands and my body done / if the lord don’t forgive me / i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me

in the low lamp light i was free / heaven and hell were words to me

in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene / only then, i am human / only then, i am clean

something isn’t right, babe / i keep catching little words, but the meaning’s thin / i’m somewhere outside my life, babe / i keep scratching, but somehow i can’t get in

feeling more human and hooked on her flesh / i lay my heart down with the rest at her feet / fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile / it’s bloody and raw, but i swear it is sweet

she’s gonna save me, call me baby / run her hands through my hair / she’ll know me crazy, soothe me daily / better yet, she wouldn’t care

honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes / i feel like a person for a moment of my life

there’s something wretched about this / something so precious about this / where to begin / there’s something broken about this / but i might be hoping about this / oh, what a sin

i will not ask you where you came from / i would not ask and neither would you / honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips / we should just kiss like real people do

i’d be appalled if i saw you / ever try to be a saint / i wouldn’t fall for someone / i thought couldn’t misbehave / but i want you to know that / i’ve had no love like your love

i was housed by your worth / thus transformed / by your grounded and giving / and darkening scorn / remember me, love, when i’m reborn / as the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me / what you’d do to me tonight

gaz is hozier coded send post

#kyle gaz garrick #i just had to do this

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petersbaby · 2 years ago

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Billy x tipsy gf reader

Warnings: mean billy. a little dark, name calling, rough sex, brief female masturbation, exhibitionism if you squint and breeding implications

You’re riding in the passengers seat of Billy’s car like you have many times before. This time, however, he had just picked you up from a small party you went to and got tipsy.

You were practically radiating sexual energy, you were so horny you couldn’t keep it together when you plopped down in the car and looked at him sitting there in his tight jeans, no shirt, just a leather jacket.

His arm was resting on the middle console as he drove, and you grabbed it, bringing his hand to rest on your bare thigh. Your skin was warm to the touch in contrast to his cool fingers.

He allowed this, even squeezing your thigh every now and then. After this, though, you were bored and spread your legs a bit, wanting his hand to venture further but it didn’t.

This was when you decided to take your panties off as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

“What the fuck are you doing??”

“It’s dark, not like anyone can see me. ��m horny.” You pull your panties the rest of the way off past your ankles and immediately reach for your needy core, slipping two fingers in right away.

This felt so good, more than it ever has before. You didn’t realize the extent to which you were moaning, but you figured out it must’ve been a lot.

He was mildly amused with your antics at first but it turned serious really quick.

“You better stop, now. Being such a slut you can’t even wait to get home.”

“Hmm”, you reply mindlessly and continue touching yourself. Before you knew it, you took a wrong turn.

“Nooo, my house is that way.” You pointed.

“I know. You’re being a whore so I’m gonna fuck you like a whore.” He says, matter of factly, with more anger in his voice now.

Your mind started racing over what he could mean by that, but you discovered soon when he pulled to the end dead end road with only one streetlight and the moon lighting it up.

He throws the car in park and gets out. Soon after, he had stormed over to your side, opening the door and yanking you out by your arm.

“Gonna take you right here, because I warned you and you didn’t listen. Maybe I can fuck some sense into you.” You take a few steps and then he’s bending you over the hood of his car.

The cold metal sent a shiver down your spine as he pushed your skirt up to bunch up at your hips and then unbuckling his pants. With no warning besides the sound of his zipper a moment before, he slams into you and you lose your breath for a minute.

This was supposed to be some kind of punishment, but you loved it. The idea of being so filthy outside in the dark, hearing your own moans echo in the surrounding woods.

“Billy, fuck, wait-“

“No princess, you’re not gonna tell me what to do, not how this works.”

You had wanted just a few seconds to catch your breath but he kept pounding into you from behind.

The pleasure was overwhelming, so much so that you felt like you could cry and knew you’d be thinking about this moment forever.

“Yes sir, ‘m sorry sir.” You whine out.

“There she is. Already fucking some sense back into you, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

His hands grip your ass roughly and his nails dig in to the skin, creating red marks. You were moaning, crying out, trying your best not to scream like you wanted to.

Trying to be good.

“You really don’t deserve it, but I’m feeling generous. I’m gonna fill your cunt, give you all my fucking babies.”

You can only moan in response as he fucks in and out of you a few more times and then stops, buried deep inside of you, and you felt the warmth in your body.

He thrusts a couple times to push the seed back in and then pulls out, tucking himself back into his jeans.

He goes to your side of the car, grabbing your panties from the floorboard where you had left them. Coming back to you, he tosses them your way carelessly so that they fall to the ground.

“Put ‘em back on, real tight. If you leak cum onto my seat you’re gonna be sorry. You’re gonna hold that in til we get home, kay?”

You nod, worried that you will inevitably leak because you could already feel it soaking through the crotch of your panties you’d put back on.

“Let’s go.” He calls out impatiently, and you hurry to slide into the car and shift around nervously in your seat, trying your best to “hold it” like he said.

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away. “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it��s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

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#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #sukuna x reader angst #sukuna x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #sukuna imagines #sweet lies: part two

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