#continue earnestly in prayer

[aspirant1598]

[wiirocku]

Colossians 4:2 (NKJV) - Continue earnestly in prayer, being vigilant in it with thanksgiving;

[pucksandpower]

Smooth-Talker

Lando Norris x press officer!Reader

Summary: in which Lando has a pick up line for every occasion

“Did it hurt?” Lando asks, leaning casually against the wall outside the McLaren garage.

You glance up from your clipboard, raising an eyebrow. “Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven,” Lando says with a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. As one of McLaren’s press officers, you’re used to Lando’s constant stream of corny pick up lines and good-natured flirting.

“You know, I think that line was old even when my grandpa used it.”

Lando clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch, straight to the heart!”

You laugh and continue reviewing the schedule for the race weekend. Lando falls into step beside you as you start walking towards the paddock.

“But seriously,” Lando says, “You should be arrested.”

You glance over at him. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“For stealing my heart,” Lando says with a wink.

“Mhm, nice try,” you reply dryly, though you feel your cheeks flush slightly.

“Hey, are you religious?” Lando asks.

You raise an eyebrow. “Not particularly, why?”

“Cause you’re the answer to all my prayers,” Lando says earnestly.

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “That one was pretty good, not gonna lie.”

Lando pumps his fist triumphantly. “Yes! I knew you’d like that one.”

You reach the motorhome and pause, checking your watch. “Okay Casanova, I’ve got to prep for the press conference.”

“Before you go, quick question,” Lando says, gently catching your arm. “Do you have a map?”

You frown in confusion. “A map? What for?”

“Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” Lando says softly, gazing at you.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you meet his own warm eyes. You open your mouth but no witty comeback comes out.

Lando grins and releases your arm. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winks and saunters off towards the hospitality tent.

You watch him go, butterflies swirling in your stomach. You’ve always thought Lando was cute, with his curly hair and infectious smile that lights up any room. But since joining McLaren, your feelings have slowly deepened into something more. And based on his incessant flirting, you’re starting to think maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way.

Shaking your head, you refocus on the task at hand — prepping talking points for the upcoming press conference. Still, you can’t stop thinking about Lando and the way he always seems to make you blush and smile, even with his cheesy pick up lines.

Over the course of the race weekend, Lando continues his campaign of corny pick up lines and flirtatious banter. Between FP3 and qualifying, he sidles up next to you in the garage.

“You know what you would look really beautiful in?” He asks.

You glance over at him. “Hmm?”

“My arms,” Lando says with a cheeky wink.

You bite your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. “Lando, I’m trying to work here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lando says, though he’s clearly not sorry at all based on his impish grin.

Following qualifying, Lando scrambles out of his car after setting the fastest lap. He makes a beeline over to you through the celebrating crowd of papaya.

“Do you have a Band-Aid?” He asks urgently.

You frown, instantly concerned. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”

“No no, I’m fine,” Lando assures you. “I just scraped my knee falling for you,” he says with a roguish smile.

You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. “Oh my god, Lando, that was terrible!” You try to look disapproving, but end up laughing.

“Worth it to see you smile,” Lando says warmly before darting off again.

On race day, you’re feeling anxious. As you pace around the paddock, you literally run into Lando.

“Whoa there!” Lando says, catching you by the shoulders. Concern flickers across his face. “You okay?”

You nod, acutely aware of his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Yeah, just nervous I guess.”

Lando rubs your arms reassuringly. “We’re gonna do great. And you know what else is great?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“The view,” Lando says, gaze locked on you. “Pretty spectacular from where I’m standing.”

You duck your head, heart pounding. When you look back up, Lando is watching you closely. He seems to be debating saying something else. After a moment, he just squeezes your shoulder gently. “We’ve got this,” he says sincerely, before heading off to get ready for the race.

You take a deep breath, feeling bolstered by Lando’s encouragement and flirtatious comment.

The race gets underway and immediately descends into chaos. Multiple collisions on the first lap bring out the safety car. You watch anxiously from the garage as the pack circulates behind the safety car for several laps while the debris is cleared.

Finally the message comes across the radio - the race is going green again on the next lap. You glance at the screens and see Lando lining up in P3 for the restart. You cross your fingers and silently will him to have a clean restart.

The pack accelerates for the restart and manages to get through the first few corners without incident. Over the next 20 laps, Lando battles fiercely to maintain his podium position. Other drivers try to challenge him but he holds strong in P3.

With 10 laps to go, you’re on the edge of your seat watching Lando defend P3 with everything he’s got. Suddenly over the radio you hear Lando’s frustrated voice. “Something’s wrong with the car, it’s down on power.”

Your heart sinks as you listen to Lando’s increasingly concerned radio calls about the lack of power. He’s slowly losing positions as the laps tick down. By the last lap, he’s fallen from 3rd to 7th from the sudden power loss.

As Lando’s car limps across the finish line, you hurry down to meet him. He pulls off his helmet and balaclava, looking weary and disappointed.

“Lando, are you okay? What happened out there?” You ask worriedly.

“I’m fine. The car is just a bit banged up,” Lando says with a tired smile. “Not sure what happened with the engine yet though.”

You hesitate, then wrap Lando in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you murmur.

Lando seems surprised but hugs you back firmly. For a long moment, you stand there just holding each other, the sounds of the paddock fading away.

Finally you step back, smiling shyly up at Lando. “So, P7. Could’ve been worse I guess, considering the issues you had.”

Lando nods, scrubbing a hand through his wild curls. “Yeah, could’ve been much worse. I’ll take the points.” He smiles ruefully. “Not quite the podium I was hoping for to impress you though.”

You bite your lip. “Lando ...”

Lando rushes to fill the silence. “You know what’s on the podium of my heart?”

You sigh, though you feel your pulse quicken. “What?”

“You,” Lando says softly, gazing at you with open affection.

You stare at him, heart thumping wildly. Before you can overthink it, you grab his race suit and pull him in for a kiss. Lando makes a surprised sound before wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply. For a blissful moment, everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Lando has a dazed, elated look on his face. “Wow … so does this mean all my cheesy pick up lines finally worked?”

You laugh and smack his chest playfully. “I don’t know if I’d say they worked … but they did make it very clear someone has a crush on me.”

You smile up at Lando, enjoying the faint blush on his cheeks.

Lando grins. “Maybe just a small one,” he teases. His expression turns more serious. “I really care about you, Y/N. And I’d love to take you on a proper date, if you’d like?”

Your heart swells and you nod. “I’d really like that.”

Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to outshine the sun. He squeezes you in another quick hug. “I better go debrief about the race. But I’ll come find you after?”

You nod, giddy butterflies taking flight in your stomach. “It’s a date,” you say with a smile.

Lando heads off looking like he just won the championship, with a spring in his step and grin on his face. You brush your fingers over your still-tingling lips, scarcely able to believe that really just happened.

After Lando finishes his lengthy post-race debrief, he finds you packing up for the day in the paddock. “You ready?” He asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Ready!”

You head out of the paddock hand-in-hand, both still riding the high of finally admitting your feelings for each other.

“Sooo, what exactly did you have in mind for this date?” You ask Lando curiously.

Lando grins. “Well first, how do you feel about Ferris wheels?”

You smile slowly. “I think Ferris wheels have potential to be very romantic.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Lando says with a wink.

You spend the evening strolling around the nearby funfair, enjoying the lights and sounds. Lando wins you an oversized stuffed teddy bear playing carnival games. You share candy floss and corndogs while taking in the sights.

Finally, you hop in line for the Ferris wheel. When it’s your turn, you settle into the seat across from Lando. As the wheel lifts you into the night sky, you take in the sprawling city views.

Lando slides closer and slips his hand into yours. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

You smile, loving how he still seems nervous even after kissing you earlier. “Smooth line, but I’ll allow it,” you tease gently.

Your Ferris wheel carriage reaches the top and pauses, giving you a panoramic view of the city at night. The lights twinkle like stars around you.

It’s magical.

Lando’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer. Your heart races as you turn towards him. His eyes reflect the dazzling lights as he gazes at you. He brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch igniting sparks along your skin.

As he leans in, you let your eyes flutter shut. His lips meet yours and the rest of the world fades away. Up here above the world, wrapped in Lando’s arms, you feel like you’re flying.

By the end of the night, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Lando walks you to your hotel room, fingers intertwined, reluctance slowing your steps.

Outside your door, you turn to face Lando. “Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.”

Lando smiles, tracing patterns on your palm with his thumb. “So I did alright for a first date then?”

You laugh. “You far exceeded expectations.” Your smile softens. “I’m really happy.”

“Me too,” Lando says, eyes shining. He takes a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically nervous again. “So, I was wondering … and feel free to say no obviously! But, um, I have two tickets to the Arctic Monkeys concert next weekend and was hoping maybe you’d want to ...” he trails off, biting his lip anxiously.

Your smile widens and you squeeze his hand. “I’d love to be your date to the concert.”

The answering grin that lights up Lando’s face is breathtaking. He punches the air, looking adorably excited. “Yes! This is going to be epic.”

You giggle at his antics. “Well this was a really fun first date. I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have planned.”

You lean in and kiss Lando softly. As you pull back, Lando clears his throat.

“Y/N, can I tell you something without you getting mad?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously. “Umm sure, I guess?”

Lando winces slightly. “I was wondering if you could give me directions ...”

You look confused. “Directions? To where?”

“To your heart,” Lando shoots you a cheesy grin.

You stare at him for a beat, then burst into laughter. “Oh my god, Lando, that was so corny!”

Lando just smiles unrepentantly. “Maybe, but did it work?”

You continue giggling and shake your head. “I don’t know why I find your cheesy lines so charming, but I do.”

You lean in and give him one more quick kiss. “Goodnight, Lando. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lando’s eyes shine happily. “Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he says, squeezing your hand before slowly backing away towards the elevator.

You watch him walk down the hallway, giddy butterflies still fluttering away in your chest.

You have a feeling this is the start of something special. A lifetime of cheesy pick up lines sounds pretty damn perfect.

[cr4yolaas]

blue spring — until we're old and wrinkly

prev: remember to be patient! | masterlist | next: my blue spring

he picks her up from her place, something she isn't accustomed to just yet. the sunlight barely peeks out from behind his figure. it's a warm sight.

kageyama planned the entire day out — she caught a glimpse of it on his notes app, typed out neatly and with little details for him to remember — and she finds it foreign to have someone else handle everything for her. when they stand before the museum, she thanks him quietly by slipping her hand into his and pretends to not notice the perspiration on his palms or the flush of his cheeks. the cues of spring happen to be on full display today, given the vibrant blossoms and the light breeze in the air, despite it already being june.

june, she ponders. spring is no longer with her, gone with the wind. she reminisces over late march, in which she had taken it upon herself to tutor her calculus seatmate, despite the inconvenience it created for her routine. she recalls early may and all of its disruptions, from her stepfather to the exhibit that tore apart pieces of her well-being. her gaze falls to the much rougher hand encapsulating hers, and she hopes that june brings about something better.

they walk around each floor together, their fingers loosely intertwined and their footsteps following the same tempo. he finds himself excited to listen to her ramble about each work that interests her. while he doesn't quite understand her observations about color theorems and medium combinations, he does understand the ardor that drips from each whispered syllable. he understands the complexity of her love for the intricacies that she describes. he understands why he likes her so, so, so much.

"i requested to host an exhibit here before," she mutters while they pause to sit and rest. there's a small bench placed in the center of one of the exhibition rooms beneath a dim light. in truth, kageyama feels like it's just them in the room. "mainly because it was convenient, but also because i dreamed of it when i was a kid." he watches as she scans each work with childlike wonder. the thump, thump, thump of his heart only drums heavier against his chest with every passing second.

his thumb grazes over her skin absentmindedly, as if to soothe himself. "what happened after?" he whispers. he's scared that if he speaks too loud, the delicacy they've constructed around themselves will shatter.

she takes a breath before she responds, and he braces himself for whatever explanation she has. "they didn't accept my work because i was too young, by their standards. something about how they wanted seasoned talent." her thumb copies his, albeit with a little more force. "it was odd. it feels weird to be here now, seeing what they would've wanted up on their walls. but i don't really mind it now."

he can't take his eyes off of her. her words spill from her lips with ease and he soaks it all in, as if it's a healing prayer. the effect she has on him is devastating, he realizes, but he doesn't want it to wither away for a second.

they sit in silence for a while. a handful of old couples shuffle by, their hands interlinked, and he wonders if he'd find himself in that position with her. tourists filter in and out and speak in quiet dialects he can't comprehend, but he enjoys the noise. she does too. it's comfortable, despite how odd it feels on her skin, and she can't find herself fighting it anymore. when he asks if she's ready to leave, she questions the last time she was able to relax. she scavenges through her memories, searching relentlessly for a moment of rest that felt as easy as this, and she finds nothing. so, earnestly, she declines. she asks him to sit with her for a little bit longer. he doesn't complain.

he wants to ask if she'd be content with continuing their routine, where he comes over on thursdays and listens to her explain complicated topics until the sun sets behind the horizon. he wants to ask if he can keep buying her iced coffees with hints of cinnamon and lavender until she grows sick of them. he wants to ask if she's ever envisioned them together, old and wrinkly, walking hand in hand. instead, he asks her if she's truly, genuinely happy.

"of course i am. you're here, after all."

that's more than enough for him, he decides.

--

kageyama doesn’t want to drop her off yet, but with the moon hanging high in the sky and the building lights slowly diminishing, he knows he can’t ask her to stay with him any longer. so, with heavy footsteps and a heavy heart, he walks with her up the stairs and down the hall of her apartment building, and his chest aches more and more with every inch closer to the doorway.

his hand departs from hers, and he feels foolish for being so clingy. she swivels around to face him. his jacket rests on her figure, the result of his overwhelming concern from moments prior. it’s the same one he left at her house weeks and weeks ago. the memory is still fresh in his head.

“i had a lot of fun today,” she muses while fidgeting with the zipper. she doesn’t want to take it off yet, and she reasons with herself that it’s only because the breeze is heavy and the night is cold, but she knows there’s more to it than that. “thank you, tobio.”

at her call of his name, he finds himself hopeless. he can’t stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, and he can’t stop the confession that he spills out shortly after.

“i think i’m in love with you,” he whispers against her skin. their noses are barely touching. there’s a minty essence to his breath, a glimmer in his eyes, and in his words, there’s a bountiful amount of raw, unfiltered emotion. she can tell it isn’t a new realization, given by the way he utters it so readily. “so much so that i’d let you tutor me until we’re old and wrinkly.”

“really?” she laughs, the sound light against his ears. “that’s a long, long time.”

“i don’t mind. as long as it’s with you.”

she doesn’t tell him that she shares the sentiment, but she isn’t sure if she really needs to tell him. the small smile she gives him and the soft peck she places on his cheek says everything he needs to know.

𝜗𝜚 next chapter is the last one !! thank u for reading blue spring :)

𝜗𝜚 i hope that this chapter really encapsulated the shift in yn's life from something much more solemn and bitter to something colorful and light since that's really where the title comes from

𝜗𝜚 blue spring was initially just a random title i came up with, but when i searched it up i found out that it means "youth" or a "fresh start." i felt that this fit super well with the general plot as not only did yn lose a lot of her youth to her workaholism, but she also got to experience a fresh start in her life by meeting kageyama

𝜗𝜚 this chapter is super duper cheesy but i feel like kags is a very cheesy guy anyways

𝜗𝜚 also does this count as them being official in ur guys' eyes ? i was very conflicted on whether or not this chapter would be the last one because i felt that i wasn't very sure on how to show the transition from "more than friends less than lovers" to being in a relationship where you can confess your love, so i was about to make this a "time-skip" sort of chapter where it's already out there that they're in love. in a sense this makes this chapter a filler ,, but it felt wrong to not talk about their date </3

𝜗𝜚 also the dog reaction pic is an inside joke that no one else will understand bc none of my irls follow this account (and i hope they never find it </3)

𝜗𝜚 also also i watched wifty while finishing this up bc i miss it sm :( zhangrai my otp

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks @scxrcherr @yuminako @girlkissersco @diorzs @causenessus @kyo-kyo1 @k0z3me @shironagi @lovingvi @bunninio @hisfuture @lilchubbyyy @gsyche @ghostreader0307 @fiannee @minimarkive @aboutkiyoomi

[walkswithmyfather]

Psalm 27:4 (NIV). [4] “One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.”

Psalm 63:1 (NIV). [1] “You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water.”

“Seek the Lord” By In Touch Ministries:

“A close relationship with the Lord is built by dedicating time to spend with Him—day by day, year by year.”

“A close relationship with the Lord doesn’t happen accidentally. It requires continual, deliberate decisions to pursue Him. Intimacy can’t be achieved in an inspiring weekend conference, nor can it be accomplished by reading a chapter or two of the Bible and praying indifferently. Seeking God is a lifetime commitment—day by day, year by year.

Too many believers are satisfied to have a shallow, superficial relationship with the Lord. They’ll approach God for relief from suffering or fulfillment of other needs but are unwilling to sit quietly for an extended period of time just getting to know Him through prayer and His Word. Yet the most important pursuit in a believer’s life is building a relationship with God. (See Ps. 27:4.) To forfeit this great blessing is a tragedy.

God doesn’t need anything from you, but He desires your loving devotion and intimate fellowship. Ask yourself, Is this what I want, too? If your answer is yes, are you willing to make the necessary commitment? Seeking the Lord cannot be something you hurry through or approach casually (Psalm 63:1). It will cost you time and effort, but the rewards are worth any sacrifice.”

[Photo thanks to Mohamed Nohassi at Unsplash]

[bxdbvnni]

Can i request a smut with Keegan talking dirty to the reader? 💚💚

Thank you for the request. :3

Pairings: Keegan P. Russ x GN reader

Tags: Smut, NSFW, cussing, edging, semi-public sex, pinning, aftercare, dirty talk

Do not repost my story elsewhere, thank you!

!! Minors DNI !!

Keegan had you pinned on your stomach on top of his desk. Both of your clothes were laying forgotten somewhere while he relentlessly pounded into you from behind. Your moans could probably be heard across the hallway for anyone that passed by, but Keegan couldn't care less.

You cover your mouth in an attempt to mute yourself from further embarrassment. "Don't." Keegan pulls your arm behind your back as he slams into your sweet spot, making you moan even louder.

"That's right, scream my name." he pants. "Fuck."

You hit your forehead down on the desk while groaning and mewling his name. "Please..." you beg for everything and nothing at the same time.

Keegan speeds up his pounding and you can feel your nerves tighten in a delicious coil and your breathing speed up aswell. Just when you're about to reach your climax, Keegan pulls out which makes you whine in protest. "No! Please-"

Keegan didn't normally talk that much during duty, but whenever you two were alone, you were truly blessed with hearing his gorgeous fucking voice as he spoke to you.

He grabs you and turns you around so that you lay on your back while he wraps your legs around his hips. "Fuck. Look at you, sweetheart. You're so flushed and gorgeous for me. Just for me. Yeah?" Keegan says as he teases your hole with the tip of his cock.

"Mmm! Yes, yes, yes... Just for you." you bite your lower lip.

"You want this? Want my rock-hard dick in your tight lil hole?" he stare at you with a sultry gaze as he slaps his dick on your hole.

You nod rapidly and grab at his arm and attempt to move yourself closer to his dick.

Keegan chuckles lowly. "What's that? Can't hear you, love. I need you to use your pretty lil mouth."

"Tell me exactly what you want from me." he purrs.

You look up at Keegan with a doe look. "Please, Keegan. Fuck me, now."

Keegan chuckles amused. "Direct to the point." he slowly slips the tip of his cock inside you. "Mm... I'll give just what you want, sweet lil thing." he murmurs softly.

"Brace yourself, love." he slams into you which earns you a loud moan. Keegan licks his lower lip and grabs your hands to keep them above your head while he fucks you earnestly now.

"Fuckfuckfuck-" you whisper almost as a prayer. "Please don't stop-"

"Don't plan on it... Gonna fuck you 'til you cream on my dick-" he gives your neck a few pecks before continuing, "And then I'll cum and fill you up inside."

"What'dya say to that, sweetheart?" he grunts as he slams into you. you only nod as your brain has turned into mush at hearing his beautiful voice and promise. "Fucking say it, love." he almost growls.

"Yes-" you pant. "Yes, yes-" you say as you are about to cum on him. "Keegan!" you shout while your greedy walls clench all around Keegan's cock.

"Cum on me." Keegan grunts.

"Fucking." SLAM. "CUM" SLAM. "ON" SLAM. "ME." SLAM. he growls.

Your voice almost turns hoarse as you moan out loud while tightening your legs around Keegan's hips as you cum around him. Keegan releases inside of you soon after with a sensitive and small giggle almost. "Fuck... You're incredible." he pants and leans down to kiss your lips tenderly.

Your mind was completely gone as you lay there with Keegan on top of you for a moment while you both catch your breaths.

"You alright, kid?" he releases your wrists and strokes your cheek gently.

"I'm..." you pant. "Great. Very good." you say as you give Keegan a completely fuck-faced smile which earns you a chuckle from him.

"I'm glad.. Let me help." he kisses your cheek and cleans you up with his shirt and then helps you put your clothes on. He takes the liberty to carry you back to his quarters.

[dadsbongos]

preacher's boy likes choir singer

2.5k words / warnings - sacrilege, bad attitude bastard zeke, demon possession??, cunnilingus (reader got puss)

summary - you and your church crush try earning God's forgiveness for temptation... only for Zeke Jaeger to have to suck demonic influence straight out of you.

kinktober: day twelve - blasphemy, church ~~~

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. Matthew 6:24.”

Zeke glances up through golden lashes, pushing his wiry glasses along his nose. In the other hand, he clutches a spankin’ new copy of Book of Common Prayer, Pew Edition over his knees. His right foot taps impatiently, expertly disguised as him simply bouncing his baby brother to keep the infant content. Carla is allowed a rare moment of rest on his right while his grandparents watch his father in the center of the floor. Grisha continues to wave his hands and grasp the podium and implore every devout there to pledge their souls, and keep them pledged.

Zeke is not focused on Grisha; Zeke is focused on what stands behind Grisha. Two silent rows of the church choir, in silky ivory robes -- similarly fresh and unweathered. Taller adults, the baritones and tenors, in the back with all two altos decorating the middle, and the sopranos -women and people Zeke’s age- lined up in the front. And right in the center of the bottom row, is you. Who is similarly aged as Zeke, only a couple months apart, and who seems to also doze off while his father speaks.

Managing a sneaky glance at the clock over his grandmother’s head, Zeke celebrates the fact his father’s sermon must be coming to a close. Which also means soon you’ll be free.

He swallows the wad of trepidation in his throat and slides Eren toward Carla with those big wet puppy dog eyes that always smuggle him out of trouble. Carla swipes up her baby while Zeke sits up straighter and smooths wrinkles in his pants. He straightens his glasses again. He looks up at you.

You’re looking back. You give the tiniest wave, just barely brushing above your hip and he waves back.

Carla catches the sight, but merely shakes her head fondly.

Grisha prompts the room to rise before bidding them well.

“May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Have pure love for our Lord in your hearts, and remember He is always first and He is the only one that can satisfy. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Zeke slips away from his step-mother and grandparents to find you among your own family. Tugging your hanging sleeve with an uneven grin, “I liked your singing.”

“Thanks, you probably couldn’t even hear me though…”

“I could hear you,” he assures, “I always can.”

“That’s bad!” you raise a modest hand over your horrified mouth, “You shouldn’t hear me over the others!”

“No, I mean,” Zeke huffs, “I can hear you.”

“Huh?” now you’re giggling awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck, “What does that mean?”

“Nevermind,” he mutters.

“Sorry…”

“No, don’t- “ he scoffs, sliding a glance towards his father, “I want to hear you sing. You by yourself.”

“Oh,” you giggle, clapping your hands over your face with an embarrassed whine, “Sorry!”

“I can’t talk right anyway.”

Your hands lower into a shy clasp at your hips, an even shier twist working your lips, “I like how you talk. It’s confusing sometimes, but you sound smart.”

He has to smush a cheek against his shoulder -- earnestly attempting to hide a staining rouge, and there’s a new response tickling the back of his throat. Until:

“Zeke!”

Grisha’s voice snaps over you both. He glares disapprovingly at his son, then scowling at you. Zeke moves to block his father out, offering a small condolence in the form of timidly rubbing his neck and smiling, “I have a weird request.”

“Like what?” when you’re fresh off a scolding, your lips delve into the most perfect pout. And shame wets your eyes deliciously. 

Sounds sick, but you’re so pretty when you’re scared.

“Can you meet me back here? When your grandma falls asleep,” Zeke whispers the last bit, especially cautious even though your grandmother is ways away by her little old rustbox.

“What? Why?”

“I just need you to.”

Scary words. Doesn’t help coming from Zeke Jaeger, who's prone to long silences and sulking in isolated corners. But to you, Zeke Jaeger has a sweet face and kind eyes, cloudy and gray as they were.

So being agreeable comes easy to you, “Okay, Zeke.”

When it comes to Zeke, you find yourself too easily influenced. His father warns against false prophets but you’re sure his son is no ravening wolf. Not a voice that smooth, and not a soul so weepy.

“I’m sure if we just ask, then He’d let us,” Zeke reasons, a little preemptively cocksure. 

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” he takes your hands and they’re warm, “He’d stop us if we weren’t meant to be together, right? That’s part of omnipotence. He’d know and stop us somehow.”

Another thing, Zeke is so smart. Someone so clever can’t be dumb enough to purposefully be cruel, right? That would be begging eternal punishment and Zeke knows better.

“I’m pretty sure the whole point is to overcome temptation by ourselves…”

“What God would be so heartless as to forever cast devout believers to hell for one slip up?” Zeke moves up to squeeze your shoulders, “If He stops us this once, then I’ll drop it,” then he steps back, “Unless, I misread you, and you don’t like me?”

“I do!” you admit boldly, then covering your mouth, “I, well, I do! I’m just… Nana always said to wait, right? For marriage, you know?”

“I’ll marry you one day,” Zeke’s hands ball up at his sides, he shrugs, “But aren’t you curious? Other kids get to do this kind of thing all the time. I just want to be normal like them for once.”

“We are normal!”

“Sure,” he shakes his head, realizing quickly this argument is going nowhere, “We can just go home, then. I’ll walk you.”

“Well…” you gnaw a thumbnail nervously, “Hold on. I don’t know. Maybe. God wouldn’t mind, maybe, just once? If we do ask? It’d be okay, you think?”

“I do.”

“Then, okay, ask.”

“Me?” he chuckles quietly at the idea.

“You’re Pastor Grisha’s son…”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Let me,” Zeke straightens up and clears his throat, “Father in heaven,” the words feel clunky and unfamiliar on the back of his tongue, “We humbly ask that maybe, just this once, we could- we could give into temptation? We’re young, and everybody else does it,” last minute he decides to throw out, “And if nothing happens, I’ll assume we have your blessing!”

You’re sent back screaming when the window over your shoulder shatters apart. Glass shards litter the floor and your heart bangs against your uvula. Stomach lurching.

“That was a bird!” Zeke rationalizes.

With little reasoning, you crumble to the floor as if to sweep up the mess. Hide it away before Zeke’s father finds it the next morning.

“Huh?! How can you be sure…?” you mumble, hands hovering over glinting shreds.

He has to bite his lip before the because this isn’t real can escape, merely shrugging, “It just had to have been.”

“Then why do I suddenly feel sick?” you cradle a hand against your stomach.

“Sick?” Zeke scoots closer, gently brushing his hand over yours, “Sick how?”

“My whole chest is on fire, and my face is hot, and,” your spare hand now retracts between your thighs until your forearm is firm against your crotch, “I’m. uhm. I think I’m… throbbing?”

“Throbbing,” Zeke repeats, eyes locked on your subtly rocking hips, “Are you horny?”

“I don’t know…”

“Have you never…?” speechless, he makes a crude jerking motion.

“No!” you cry horrified, but when his eyes only widen you gasp, “You have?!”

“Everyone does.”

“Not me. I’m scared, Zeke, what does this mean? What am I feeling?”

“I can’t be sure, but I can feel… if you want?”

Immediately, you’re relieved at the offer: someone you trust with infinitely more experience towards bodily pleasure willing to assess for you, “Yes, yes! Please!” 

“Alright,” he clears his throat, gunmetal eyes flickering your way before toward the window then to Jesus bleeding over you. A stuttered mewl from the back of your throat distracts him. His heart pounding into his ribs as he watches you aimlessly bounce against your arm, “Let me see, then.”

Without much thought you comply, leaning back onto your elbows with knees collapsing to opposite sides of your torso. A darkened patch weeping around your hole, and heat straight spiraling up your spine until it's spewing along your cheeks. An involuntary mewl is choked between clenched teeth,

“Zeke!” you whine, twitching on the floor, “Zeke, I feel so…!”

He crawls forward on his hands and knees, eyes staining between your legs. Mouth hanging limp before he can spit out a marbly, “I’m gonna touch you,” his right hand smooths up your shin, over your knee, and down the plain of your thigh before his thumb sears along the seat of your panties.

Pausing at your clit to swirl before peeling the material aside.

Snowy fog mists up Zeke’s round glasses, he quickly swipes them off just to rub down and replace -cutting his gaze to yours as if you had any questions, “I wanna see you. All of it.”

Genesis 3:3  But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die.

With nothing of a response, you nod meekly and push up into his hand. The movement forces his thumb against your bare, swollen nerves -- syrup clings between you. Webbing from his warm finger pad to your cunt. He swallows harshly.

Genesis 3:4  And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die:

You pierce his thoughts with a whiny, “Put your mouth on it, Zeke…!”

As if he could miss what you were talking about, you hump his hand. Budding your slit against his knuckles.

His brain short circuits under your lidded stare.

Genesis 3:6  And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat.

Zeke’s tongue sizzles up you in a broad, fat stroke before abandoning the pleasantries. Muted moans die in your hip as he worms a lick inside you, then he slurps straight from the source -- now slipping a hand down to scissor you open. Lewd, loud sucking crescendos from between your thighs -Zeke drowns and begs for more.

Whether he’s really saving you or only sinking you deeper into corrupting with every dive of his fingers, he cannot be sure. Nor does he care too much to. If you’re struck out of heaven for this, then he’ll fall with you. 

Reinforced immediately as you snag his golden strands between frantic fingers, nails spiking his scalp interim to him flicking his tongue inside you. 

Zeke had a hypothetical relationship with God -- he’s simultaneously real and nonexistent; his father knows exactly what he’s saying and his father is a bumbling fool. You are an ultimate temptation and you are just a sweet member of the choir. One person cut from many.

He pulls back to suck a sharp breath before delving to suck on your clit. Peeking up at you through crooked frames. Eyes clouded and unattainable through your own.

Harder he sucks, the more bearable your churning, heated gut becomes. So you encourage, pushing his head deeper into your pulsing cunt. Grinding down onto his nose with abandon. Eagerly pushing back into you, Zeke hums around you -quiet prayers to lure out more of your wetness. 

Prayers answered: waves of gush splatter onto his clear glasses and muddy your visage. Zeke bathes his tongue with your taste. Sharp, maybe a little sour, but so so fucking warm and so soft. He imagines this is what angels drink: he knows he’s totally unworthy.

So he thanks you with a dedicated curl of his fingers. 

You return gratitude tenfold, wringing blonde hairs dangerously. Back snapping in an overwhelmed arch, jaw hinged with raucous wails. Garbled versions of his name, and he loves the song- your voice is marvelous.

What was it his father said this morning?

You cannot serve two masters?

Zeke blinks up at you, still murky and wavering with the goop now drying against his lenses (which he does not plan to wipe away soon), and suckles again just to hear you scream.

He knows which master he believes in: the one he can see, the one cumming on his face like a divine wine. 

You cannot believe pleasure feels so good, and so right.

You cannot comprehend why a God claiming to love you bars you of this feeling.

You would not hold it against Zeke if he’s damned you both, instead clawing for more and gasping into the dark, empty church, “Yes, yes, yes, ah! S’good, so good!”

Zeke pushes down onto the hardwood floor, grinding uncomfortably as you squeal mindless, “thank you, Zeke!”s and clamp your thighs around his ears.

If he weren’t occupied swallowing your spewing slick, then maybe he could thank you in return. For what, he can’t be sure -- this is not salvation, surely. Though, perhaps it’s much better.

As soon as the flaming knot in your stomach has unraveled, you notice a cool almost clamminess washing over you. Clear and sensible, you softly push Zeke away by the forehead. 

“Too much?” he murmurs, panting for breath. You nod slowly. He licks his lips shamelessly, “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry!” you slip over across the floor until you’re nestled into his side, laying your dizzy head against his shoulder, “It was- uhm… it was nice.”

“Only nice?” he dramatizes a pout, working off his glasses before holding them up into the pouring moonlight to map out where your slick stains.

An unflattering snort leaves you, you burrow into his arm and try to shake off the sudden embarrassment, “Very much better than ‘nice’.”

Zeke nods, a small grin coming over his face as he attempts to wipe his glasses clean. Then dropping his head against yours, overly familiar and not unlike a proper lover, “I’m glad. I’d only seen that in magazines before, so I wasn’t sure I was doing it right.”

“I didn’t even know you could put a mouth there,” you shrug.

“Hm. I have to show you more things, then.”

“You’re the pastor’s son, yet you’re worse than any boy I know…”

“Are you complaining?” he’s being sardonic, though some tiny anxious part in the middle of his chest has him watching you through his peripherals.

“No,” you shake your head into his arm, “Not at all, really…”

[claymoresword]

The Queen And Her Knight | Chp: 2

Alicent Hightower x Knight Fem!Reader

Summary: Alicent Hightower against her better judgement, falls in love with her sworn protector. Can she bear to fight her feelings or will she finally just give in?

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Reader

Wordcount: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut(?), Angst, Harsh language, Mention of abuse, Aegon ii targaryen sympathiser, Reader and Alicent can't stay away from each other if they tried

Note: Bare in mind that I am writing this with very surface level knowledge of the Greyjoys and asoiaf in general so apologies if i write anything wildly inaccurate its not my intention to offend! Also disclaimer: i aged dalton greyjoy up in the story to make the narrative more logical

As usual i hope you enjoy and let me know what u think!

Chapter 3

Alicent awakes from her restless slumber. Her body was exhausted beyond belief pleading for sleep to take over and yet her mind had other plans.

She had spent the entire hour of the wolf weeping. Recalling her encounter with y/n and everything she had said. Everything she wishes she could have said.

It was now dawn, only a few minutes until the sun rises. Moments until she will never have to see you again.

Alicent gets up from her bed, situating herself beside it. On her knees, she begins to pray. She prays for strength, she begs to the gods to make all of this bearable. She wants so badly for her feelings for you to be squandered. Alicent spent countless nights praying for the same, she quickly realised it doesn't work that way.

The Queen was prepared to spend the entire morning practicing her faith, asking for forgiveness as the events of last night haunted her. Looming over her like a dark cloud. She feels guilty for kissing you, even more guilty for enjoying it.

Alicent couldn't help but feel entirely responsible. Her status meant she had dominion over you. She blames herself for allowing you to grow fond of her. It is her fault for abusing her power, you are entitled to your own feelings but she is far from innocent.

Alicent recalls her mother's words, her father's abhorred gaze.

She had been through this with the Princess and now she had done it again with you.

Rhaenyra.

Tears flow out of the Queen's eyes again and she shuts them tightly. Her childhood companion threatening the forefront of her mind, demanding to be remembered.

Alicent begins to pray again, she recites loudly. A desperate attempt to silence her mind, her heart.

A knock at the door and the auburn haired woman lets out a sigh. She glances over at the window, the sun streaming in. Alicent feels relief and dread all the same.

She stands up and grabs her robe, covering herself up for modesty.

"Come." Alicent announces.

Her handmaiden Talya walks in and does a curtesy before speaking.

"Lady y/n has began her departure your grace. I came to see if you would like my help to get dressed, if her grace would like to see the lady off?" Talya asks earnestly.

"Yes, Talya thank you. Help me dress, but I will not be seeing lady y/n. I would like to attend to the King and get started on my duties for the day."

Talya doesn't not attempt to hide her confusion at the Queens words but decides to question her no further.

"Ofcourse, Your Grace."

--

Alicent had been at the sept for all hours that morning. She missed breakfast and hadn't greeted her children yet, a routine she rarely broken.

Alicent couldn't bare to face them, she had no desire to see anybody.

Heavy footsteps approach her, interrupting the Queen mid prayer.

"Mother!"

She recognised the voice immediately. Her son. His tone had quickly given him away but the look on his face solidified it. He was angry.

Alicent swiftly stands up and faces her son.

"Imagine my surprise mother, when I took to the field prepared to spar with my usual partner and yet Ser Criston was sent for me instead."

Alicent breaks her son's gaze and glances down but says nothing. 

Aemond continues.

"Please allow me to understand dear mother, why did you send her away?"

The prince's tone now gentle, a rather abrupt shift of demeanor from just a moment ago.

"I no longer saw need for lady y/n services. I am perfectly content with Ser Criston as protector."

Alicent falsely admits, shocked at her own ability to sound poised while telling a blatant fib.

Aemond scoffs, he is no longer angry but in disbelief.

"Did you think to ask me for an opinion? Or even Helaena for that matter."

"You may no longer need her but we do. Cole is competent enough but he provides no real challenge, and he is certainly no confidant. I saw lady Y/n as an equal" Aemond pauses.

"She was my friend."

Alicent's heart shatters. She had been so caught up in her own problems with you that she had failed to considered her own children.

"I apologise Aemond, truly. I did not realise how much she meant to you." The queen admits rather sheepishly.

"Your Grace, I do not want your apology. Please just ask for her return." Aemond storms off quickly, as if incapable of bearing another second alone with his mother.

Tears well up in Alicent's eyes again, perhaps she had acted too rashly. She decides her children's needs far surpass her own, she will make things right.

--

You were in bed at home, two weeks since leaving King's Landing.

The moment you stepped foot in the Iron Islands you had reverted back to your old self. No longer a Knight of the Queensguard you decided nothing you do now will matter.

You took to the brothels, drinking all hours of the day. Sleeping with every and any whore who will have you. You couldn't allow yourself to think of the Queen, you felt you had to either numb the pain or die from it.

Your head pounding from the night before you reached over to your bedside to grab a cup of water, gulping it down.

Soon you realise you were not alone, another woman naked in your bed. You do not recognise her, you try your hardest to recall the events of last night but to no avail.

The woman turns over in her sleep and moves to wrap her arm around your torso.

Her touch felt repellent, wrong. A suffocating feeling overcoming you. You got out of bed and headed towards the door. You just needed to get out.

--

You found yourself by the sea, the smell of the saltwater had quickly calmed you. However, solitude forced your mind to wander. Inevitably your thoughts settled on Alicent. You did not bother to fight them this time. You found yourself wondering about her. Who she's been with today, if she had eaten, if she has slept. Was she truly content now that you were away?

Her absence, it weighs on you heavily. You feel it in your chest, your entire body aches to be around her, to feel her. The only solace left are your memories of the Queen. This fills you with an overwhelming dread, but you are strangely comforted by the knowledge that you still had the power of your mind to rely on.

"Y/n!" A voice breaks you out your thoughts.

You turn to see your brother, speedily walking towards you. A piece of parchment in his hand.

"Rodrik, what's wrong?"

Your brother doesn't respond but extends his arm to you urging you to grab the letter in his hand.

You looked down at it but didn't move, skeptical.

"Came for you from King's Landing" Rodrik explains.

You wasted not another moment and snatched the parchment from his hands. You tear it open and quickly skimmed its contents, you couldn't believe it. The Queen had written to you.

Dearest Y/n,

I would like to first, extend my apology. Sending you away was an act of impulse on my part. I claim to value duty above all, but I let my emotions guide my judgement and for that I am truly sorry. You have served me well and faithfully. I could not have asked for a more competent Knight. I write in hopes that you will find it in your heart to forgive me, as well as accept your previous post as my sworn guard. Prince Aemond has expressed his unhappiness with my decision to dismiss you. My Helaena has also refused to speak to me properly and grown entirely despondent. Prince Aegon may have not plainly stated his thoughts, however, his dejection is hard to miss. I realise now the grave mistake I have made. The children miss you dearly y/n. I miss you. I ask you to please return to King's Landing and serve me once more, I will do everything in my power to make it worth your while. Do consider my proposal. I anxiously await your reply.

Sincerely,

Your Queen Alicent.

'I miss you'.

You read the letter once more. The Queen's words ignited something deep inside you. You recognise how difficult it must've been for her to write to you. She was vulnerable and she let you see it through this letter.

You stood for a moment deliberating, you had so much love for the Queen's children, even Prince Aegon. He has acted disagreeable in more than one occasion but strangely enough you understood his intentions and he respected you the same.

You let out a sigh. To return to King's Landing is to open yourself up to her again. A great risk you are not sure you could bear to take.

You had entirely forgotten your brother was stood beside you, watching you the entire time until he spoke again.

"Go back to her y/n. You are clearly miserable here. I truly had not seen you half as happy as you were when I visited you serving under the Queen." Your brother expressed truthfully.

"Father will never let me go, Rodrik. He was already hesitant to welcome me back after all that time I spent away from home. If I disobey him again he might disown me entirely."

You were conflicted.

Your heart is asking you to return to your queen but logic and reason is telling you to stay.

"You are wise to worry but let me ask you this, has father once ever acted in your favour? We live our entire lives trying to please him but what has he truly done for us? Did you forget the way he treated our mother? You may be right to want to spare his feelings but I swear y/n, we owe him nothing."

There was truth what your brother said. Your father was a selfish man, never once asked what his children needed. Your mother was a kind woman, her fate doomed when she fell in love with him.

She deserved better.

You deserve better.

You decide you will return to King's Landing.

"Thank you brother, you speak the truth. I will begin my journey back to King's Landing come the morrow." You state genuinely.

A proud smile flashes across his face and you smile at him in return.

---

You found yourself in a screaming match with your father, Lord Dalton. You had just told him of your plans to resume your post as protector of the queen.

"Do think yourself above me, y/n? " Your father accuses.

"Now that you have the Queen asking after you, you think you are allowed to do as you please?" He raises his voice.

You suppress the urge to scoff, Lord Greyjoy and his never ending ability to underestimate you.

"I am a woman grown, father. Therefore entitled to my own decisions."

"I will not let you smother me the way you did my mother." You taunted, knowing the consequence that'll follow. You still couldn't deny how good it felt.

Your father moves to strike you but you quickly dodge it.

He tries to gather himself after failing to hit you, face reddened with anger.

You begin to walk away, no longer possessing the patience to be near him.

He grabs your arm harshly forcing you to stop walking and hear his next words.

"If you decide to leave y/n, do not bother coming back." Your father says before releasing your arm.

You look up at him with a scowl.

"You are no child of mine." He says, tone dripping with disdain.

Being a girl in a family that only consisted of boys, your father's rejection was nothing foreign. You were used to it. You had decided long ago to never seek any sort of validation from him as it only led to your disappointment.

He intended for his words to cut you but you stopped giving him the satisfaction long ago.

You storm off without another word and headed to your rooms.

Morning comes and you swiftly aboard the Greyjoy ship supplied by your brother. You were eternally thankful to have him in your life. Rodrik being the only person in your family who truly cared for you.

He grabs your shoulder, urging you to meet his gaze.

"What is dead may never die."

A saying you were all too familiar with.

You nod, understanding the true meaning behind his words.

"I love you, brother." You say before making your way onto the ship, finally setting sail for King's Landing.

--

You arrive at the Red Keep and were immediately greeted by Aemond and Helaena. The Queen stood by them, at a distance.

Helaena meets your gaze and a large smile flashes across your face. The Princess wasted no time, she runs up to you and pulls you into a tight embrace.

"Don't you ever abandon me like that again Y/n." Haelena exclaims.

You let out a chuckle, a true talent for dramatics. Much like her dear mother.

"I promise that was never my intention Princess. I had rather urgent business in the Iron Islands." You lie, hoping Helaena would lessen the blame on her mother and warm up to her again.

You look up at Alicent as she watches the entire interaction before her. She throws you a genuine smile as a silent 'thank you'. You return it.

Helaena releases you from her grip and you turn your attention to Aemond.

He surprises you by also pulling you into a hug. Albeit, the embrace ended quicker than his sister's but you could feel his sincerity.

"It is good to have you back my lady." Aemond's words were accompanied by a fond smile.

"I must admit I have missed your company my Prince."

"I hope your sparring skills have not waned in my abscene, that would be most dissapointing." You jest as Aemond's smile grows.

"Helaena, we seem to be missing your lord husband, where is he?"

"My best guess, he is still asleep in his chambers. I imagine a long night of whoring in the streets of silk can be terribly depleting" Aemond remarks and Haelena shifts uncomfortably.

"Ah, and here I thought the Prince missed me." You quip, at an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I almost forgot, I have something for you Princess." You watch Helaena's eyes light up immediately.

You pull out a book from your satchel. You came across it wandering the city one night and thought of her. You had plans to gift it to her by raven but circumstances allowed you to now hand it to her in person. 

A book detailing all the organisms and insects that can be found in the Iron Islands. It was rather hefty and informational, not a book you'd personally enjoy but you knew the princess found joy in these things.

Helaena pulls you into an embrace once again and you let out a real laugh this time.

"Thank you. I love it." Heleana admits sincerely and it warms your heart.

Alicent finally walks up to you, a look on her face you can't quite read. Perhaps she's glad you are back but embarrassed she sent you away, you could not truly say for certain.

"Come, Lady y/n must be exhausted from her journey. Let us allow her to rest." Alicent says gesturing to her children.

---

You were laying in bed. You had managed to sleep off most of the journey but now that you are energized it was only hours past dinner time and your duties don't resume until the morrow. Right now, you are left with nothing to do.

Just as you turn over to try and resume your slumber there is a knock at your door. You assumed it to be Ser Criston or one of the handmaidens as nobody else visits you this late.

"Yes? Come in"

The door to your chambers open and the Queen walks in.

You stand up, scrambling to find something to cover up with. You were only in your small clothes and breeches. Eventually finding your robe, you put it on.

"Apologies for my lack of decency Your Grace, I was not expecting company."

The queen gestures for you to relax.

"I will only be here a moment."

"My reason for being here is- Well I wanted to say- I would like to just-". Alicent stutters and you fail to hide your amusement.

Your heart swells at the sight of her stumbling over her words before you. The queen has never seemed so ordinary, so human.

"I must admit, during your arrival earlier today I could not find the proper words. I thought to visit you here and try again but clearly, words are failing me still."

You didn't respond, allowing the auburn haired woman to continue.

"I just wanted to thank you. For coming back. I also wanted to again, extend my apology."

You walked towards the Queen, interrupting her mid sentence.

"I do not need your apology, Your Grace. If I truly held any ill feelings I would not be here."

You extend your hand, placing in on top of Alicent's.

It was indecent, but you needed her to know you truly meant what you were saying.

"I forgive you." You admit, maintaining eye contact with the queen.

You watch as tears well up in her eyes and her gaze softens.

She grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers. The feeling of her hand in yours making your heart skip a beat. You had spent countless nights yearning to touch her again. Now that you are, you feel the urge to pinch yourself just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Your eyes shift to the Queens lips for a moment and you hear her breath hitch. The air in the room feels thick, your own chest heaving as breathing suddenly became difficult.

You knew you had to step away from her, terminate all physical contact.

Instead, you found yourself leaning in. Your lips crashing into hers.

Alicent lets out a noise in surprise but doesn't make an effort to push you away.

You took this as a sign to keep going. Your hands settling on her waist, you grip it harshly as her own hand grabs the back of your neck in response.

You make quick work of deepening the kiss, your tongue enters her mouth and a  moan spills out of her lips.

The both of you now completely overtaken by desire. You walk Alicent backwards pushing her up against the wall next to the window. You disconnect the kiss, to move your attention to her neck, placing wet kisses against it.

Alicent chokes out another moan, one hand still grabbing your neck her other moves down to the hem of your breeches, roughly pulling you in closer to her. Your hips buck in response and you fight the urge to grind into her as you desperately needed the friction.

You lips finds Alicent's again and this time she takes the opportunity to enter her tongue into your mouth. This sends your body into overdrive. You needed to have her now.

"Y/n" Alicents says breathlessly as soon as your lips disconnected. She was asking you for something but you were unsure. Did Alicent want you to stop? Or did she want you to keep going?

As it seems you were not going to receive your answer as the door to your chambers suddenly flies opens.

You quickly stumble back away from the queen and Alicent pushes herself off the wall trying her best to steady herself.

"So it is true! You are back!" Aegon exclaims sauntering over to you.

You do not respond and instead glanced over at Alicent, she looked slightly dishevelled but otherwise a picture of grace. Her hands clasped over her abdomen, she stands up straight. To the untrained eye, absolutely nothing unseemly has taken place here tonight.

She truly is good at this. You were captivated.

"Oh, hello mother." Aegon says.

"I had only wished to get caught up with my dear friend y/n, it has been entirely too long since I have last seen her." The prince remarks.

Alicent smiles at her son, it does not reach her eyes.

"Ofcourse, I will leave you." Alicent says, stealing a glance at you before walking out.

Shit.

You definitely had gone too far once again. The queen may never want to be near you now.

"Y/n , what do you say? Fancy a walk with me around the city?" Aegon asks you joyfully.

"My prince, it is nearly the hour of the bat. I think its wise I rest before resuming my duties on the morrow."

The prince lets out a groan.

"I will not force you out till late, I promise."

You stare at him, genuinely deliberating.

"Come on, where is that sense of adventure?" He urged one last time.

"Fine. I ought to keep an eye on you anyway. I will meet you outside, I need to dress."

Accomplished smile on his lips, Aegon walks out of your chambers.

You sigh recalling what just happened between you and the queen. Anxiety overcoming you once again. You hated being apart from Alicent and yet entirely dreaded the thought of seeing her in the morning.

Pushing those thoughts aside you choose to focus on Aegon and the time you are about to spend with him. You will have to face the queen again soon enough. You decide there is no point in agonizing over it.

[chiss-ticism]

Hi there! I would love to know more about Billie: 12, 14, 15, 25 and 46 if you please 🤗

oh, sure! tysm!!

dividers by @/marquisedegramont

🎨- @/crownedinmarigolds

BILLIE CARUSO

12.) What happened that lead up to their embrace?

Truth be told, this is always the part that I sort of gloss over 🤔 In the ~vaguest~ of terms, I imagine that she was particularly self-righteous and vocal about the her abbey's perceived mishandling of something or another relating to a member of their congregation whereas most were keen to keep their heads down and continue business as usual. In her steadfast refusal to let up in her inquiries, she unknowingly turned the wrong head and drew a Lasombra's fangs down upon her in the quiet of night some months down the line after she had had time enough to appraise her soon-to-be childer.

14.) How did they initially feel after being embraced? Did they like being reborn into something knew or did it take them a while to cope with their new reality?

A prayer of hers that I wrote some time ago, covering exactly that:

Is this a gift, oh Lord, a surefire sign as to where I slot neatly into your grand plan? Or have I truly been forsaken - a sinner so deeply entrenched in the stench of the original sin as to be rendered incapable of repentance? I find myself straddling two worlds, truly belonging to neither… Do you hear me, oh Lord? I would be a blaspheming fool to doubt that you do… I just… I'm not sure what to do - what path have you set before me to follow faithfully… I have no doubt that things will be revealed in time. They always are, exactly when you have planned them to be. And I know in my heart of hearts that you have only my best interests in mind. I'm afraid, oh Lord. Deeply, truly. I recognize that you have afforded me a unique gift - one denied to many of those similarly marked. To feel the sun's warmth upon my cadaverous skin is an experience I will take for granted no longer. I recognize your hand in this. I do. But to bestow a gift upon within the very same breath that casts me out of your flock confounds me deeply… I do not question your judgement, oh Lord, only worry that I may accidentally stray further away from your grace unknowingly. Please grant me the strength so that I may continue to act in accordance to your Will and your Will alone. [she continues for some time]

She is still very much trying to cope.

15.) Are they presumed to be dead or are they still acting as though they are alive to the general public?

She's presumed alive, though her Sisters at Saint Joan's are worried something fierce given that she just up-and-left without saying anything to anyone. Doubly so, given the hunters in their midst who know better than most just how dark the world truly is... Novitiates - let alone earnestly devout former foundlings who had shown a grand total of 0 visible lapses in faith or judgement - seldom just up and leave, y'know? Where would she go? What support system did she have? As it stands, they wouldn't have an overly difficult time tracking her down - the 19 year old sleeping on church pews and other such conspicuous places in nun's robes is hardly subtle - but they haven't thus far.

25.) How often do they cause a masquerade breach? Not often at all, if you can believe it.

She doesn't have access to disciplines or Thin-Blood Alchemy (and, unbeknownst to her, if she did otherwise tried to learn any - she would have to drink from a Full-Blooded Cainite for them to work at all.)

She's immune to True Faith - so Leopoldites and other Hunters wouldn't be able to detect her that way.

She's a daywalker, so the sun hardly ruffles her feathers and she can make a meeting at any time of day.

She's been cautioned about the necessity of the Masquerade and has, thus far, kept things quiet.

The closest thing I can imagine for a ~regular~ masquerade breach would be the wildlife she leaves exsanguinated beyond the fringes of society and, even then, how many folks are poking around animal carcasses on a daily basis. I worry that she's more in danger from Lupines than from any overt breach of the Masquerade on her end. 🐺

46.) What are their ambition(s) if any?

Armed with a tape recorder, she's currently doing her best to:

Taking it one Night Terror at a time, she desperately wants to understand the ""visions"" she's that she's receiving from ""Heaven"" so that she might know what plan they have for her.

In her off time, she tries to interview any ""safe"" Kindred that she can get in contact with, sifting through personal histories and anecdotes to develop a deeper understanding of the Children of Cain [no "e".]

[valiantstarlights]

[Priest Hob AU sequel] Some Months Later, December 24, Evening.

Tagging @alexxuun because they deserve credit for the AU. 😊 I can't tag the anon who requested a sequel in an ask, but here you go! I hope you like it. 🖤

--

"I don't...I don't understand." Hob clutches at Dream's arm when he realizes where Dream has transported them. "Why are we here?"

'Here' was the corridor they got married in, months ago by now. Nothing has changed. The fourth window left of the door was still cracked, and the tile near the first pillar was still placed unevenly. Time has passed, surely, but Hob doesn't know the time difference between Hell and Earth. For all he knows, only a few minutes have passed since he was last here with Dream.

"To pray, I suppose," Dream replies, sounding amused at his question. "Is this what being in my presence does to you, Father Robert? Have you forgotten the purpose of churches?"

Panic flared bright in his chest. "No, please, don't call me that. You know I'm not...I'm not that person anymore. I'm your husband now. Right? Dream?" His heart was suddenly beating so quickly. Dream was looking at him strangely, all traces of humor gone from his handsome face. "Why are we here? Have you...have you grown tired of me? Is this you returning me to my old life?"

No. No. Anything but that. Anything but the crushing loneliness, the prayers that ring hollow when he recites them, the misguided belief that suffering brings you closer to heaven. That it is worth being miserable your entire life, giving and giving until you have nothing left, for the sake of having a place in God's kingdom where it would be more of the same: worshipping an absent, indifferent being, the air filled with songs of zealous, nauseating praise, fake beatific smiles on the face of everyone you meet.

Hob would rather die than live that life again. He would rather starve in the streets and die a peasant's death than leave Dream's side. If his husband has fallen out of love with him--

"Hush, my love," Dream says, and then Hob is enfolded in his strong arms, Dream's dark wings also moving to shelter him. Hob immediately clings tight. If Dream wants him to let go, he's going to have to break Hob's arms first. "I am here. I will not leave you. You are mine until the end of time."

"Then why?" Hob asks against the rich fabric of Dream's robes. He still sounds panicked, short breath coming in gasps. "Why are we here? I don't want to be here."

Dream rubs Hob's back comfortingly, up and down and up again, sometimes brushing his long fingers through Hob's hair, until Hob calms down. Until he can breathe normally again. Hob doesn't know how much time has passed, but their surroundings are undisturbed and not a single person walks by them.

And then Dream asks, "Are you sure?"

What?

Dream sighs but continues his soothing gestures. "I know you miss it. I hear you hum sometimes, when your mind is focused on a task. Religious melodies. Christmas songs, of late. I don't think you notice it, but some of the staff do. Lucienne tells me you must have wanted to visit, but are too afraid to ask me." He leans away from Hob so Hob could see how sincere he looks, but all Hob reads in Dream's face is the sadness in his eyes at the thought of Hob not trusting him enough to tell him his wishes.

"I do not want you to think that you can never visit again," Dream tells him, soft and a little vulnerable. "I do not want you to think that by marrying me, you have lost your freedom." He looks around them, at the high ceilings and the tall windows. "And so here we are."

"Dream," Hob says as earnestly as he could. "It's just a habit. I hum when I feel like it's too quiet. It just so happens that the songs I pick are...well. But if you enchant a violin to play by itself and follow me around, I assure you the humming will cease, or if it persists, then it would be to the tune of Mozart or Bach or whichever composer you pick."

He places his hand against his husband's cheek and watches as Dream leans against it before turning his head to kiss his palm. Hob's heart breaks at the tender movement. How long had Dream been worried about this?

"As for my freedom," Hob says, "You did not clip my wings. You unbound them. And since you have, I have never felt happier. With you by my side, I feel like I can achieve anything. You opened my eyes and taught me better. Helped me unlearn all the false teachings I grew up believing to be true. You have made me into the best version of myself I could ever hope to be, and I would not have anyone else by my side. I'm glad I'm spending my eternity with you."

Dream's eyelashes flutter in pleasure at his words before he leans in and gives Hob a soft kiss on the lips. Hob returns it with a passion, wanting Dream to understand that Hob has already decided his fate, and that he has chosen Dream. Will always choose him. Each and every time. Hob needs him to understand that. But how..?

An idea forms in his mind, and as soon as their kiss reached its natural conclusion, he pulls Dream towards the church proper.

"Hob?"

"Come, husband," he says, still filled with a giddy kind of joy whenever he says the title. "I want to make something clear to you."

Dream follows him.

A few moments later, the two of them stand in front of the door that would open to the main hall of the church.

"Is it empty?" Hob asks.

"Yes," Dream says. "The midnight mass won't be starting until later this evening."

"The midnight mass?" Hob repeats in shock. "Is it already Christmas Eve?"

Dream nods.

"Good," Hob says firmly. "Even better." He opens the door, and indeed, there was no one inside.

Hob marches them past the rows of votive stands, past the carved wooden pedestal holding the lit advent candles nestled upon a wreath of evergreen, and right up to the altar. Then, with only a moment's worth of hesitation, Hob shoves everything on the altar crashing down on the ground: the book stand, the large Bible it's holding open, candelabras with unlit candles, and a couple of flower vases. He winces as the objects make a dreadful amount of noise, the water from the vases seeping onto the pages of the Bible, the heavy book stand crushing the flowers, the candelabras dented in a couple of places, the candles placed upon them rolling across the floor.

"Is there a point to this destruction?" Dream asks behind him, sounding adorably confused as to why his usually mild-mannered husband is acting this way.

"No," Hob says, then turns back to Dream. He wants to see his husband's face for this. "I just wanted to clear the altar for my offering."

"Your offering?"

Hob starts to strip, and Dream immediately shuts his mouth, eyes darkening as he understands what Hob is trying to do.

"I am offering myself to you," Hob says, and starts reciting Dream's many titles. "--King of Dreams and Nightmares, One of the Seven Rulers of Hell, and my beloved husband. I would have you stake your claim on me in front of all the angels and saints, right at the altar of the god I used to worship."

Dream stares at him, now fully naked and slightly shivering from the cold air, his nipples pebbling. "You do not know what you're asking for, Robert Gadling," he says, though if the echo of Nightmare's voice tainting his is any indication, then Hob knows exactly what he's trying to do. "This would be unlike our marriage. Offering yourself to me in this way..."

"Can I be any more owned by you?" Hob asks, genuinely curious. "Am I not offering you myself, body and soul, so in the future you will not do stupid things like think I would want to be away from your side? Away from our home?"

"You would be offering yourself body and soul to me, Hob, this is true," Dream says. "But you must know that in offering yourself to me the way you are planning, naked and willing upon an altar, you are also offering to bear my children."

"Your chil--" Hob gapes at him and looks down at himself, at his own body, which is still very hairy and very male. "You can get me pregnant?" He asks, only sounding slightly hysterical.

Dream nods gravely. "And now you see why offering yourself this way to me would be unwise. However, I have noted your intention, and will try not to do...foolish things in the future."

"And if I want it?" Hob asks, unwilling to leave just yet without being fucked here, in the place where he went through life like a ghost, upon the very altar he stood behind and spoke words of faith while having none in his heart. He feels his cock growing hard under Dream's eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained. "If I want to become pregnant with your child?"

Dreams eyes are turning so dark, it was like the stars in them have started to go out one by one. The end of multiple universes. "Hob."

"I am willing," Hob says. "And while I am no longer a virgin, I had been when you first--"

"You should not say these things," Dream says in Nightmare's voice, stepping forward into Hob's space. The shadows were gathering around him and slithering around Hob's feet like snakes. "Not unless you want me to fuck you pregnant in the house of your god."

Hob steps closer until his naked body is flush against his husband, precome staining Dream's dark robes, then leans upwards so he could kiss Dream's and Nightmare's fanged mouth. They nip at his lips and push him back against the altar, the stone cold and hard against his back. Hob moans and twines his arms around their neck, letting them lift him so he could sit on the altar. "Haven't you heard, my husband?" Hob murmurs against their lips. "I worship a different god now."

--

"More," Hob begs, an indeterminate amount time later. Dream's cum drips from his hole and onto the altar, but still Hob spreads himself open. "Again."

Dream kisses him lovingly and obeys. Half of his face is Nightmare and the other half is Dream. He only gets this way when he's feeling so much pleasure that both sides of himself come out to play. Hob loves him like this. Dream is generally a gentle lover while Nightmare prefers a hard fuck. But both of them at the same time means petal soft kisses from Dream while Nightmare chokes him with a hand around his throat as his cock jackhammers into Hob.

"Insatiable," Dream says in Nightmare's voice as he thrusts hard into Hob. It's good that the altar is made of stone or else it would have broken under their vigorous fucking. "Do you really intend for me to breed you here? Are you not going to be satisfied until my seed takes?"

Hob moans. Yes. That would, in fact, be the ideal outcome. He spreads his legs wider.

"And to think you had been a virgin when I married you," Nightmare says in Dream's voice, possessive and fond at the same time. "Your hole was so tight I had to spend hours with my tongue between your legs to loosen you up. And now your body knows my cock so well you can take me with minimal preparation."

Hob squeezes him as much as he could in retaliation, though it was a weak little thing, his hole already fucked sloppy and loose.

"What a slutty husband I have," they tell him. "Uncaring that at any point now, the deacons and the sacristans will be arriving to do last minute preparations. I doubt they'll have anything to say about the mess you made on the floor, not when they see a former priest of this church getting fucked like a whore right on top of their sacred altar."

Hob mewls at that, aroused beyond belief. He knows he probably shouldn't feel that way. How he should instead feel humiliation flooding his veins at the thought of being found in such a position by the people who used to respect him.

But oh, to be found pleasing his eternal husband, undeniably marked with his teeth and claimed by his large cock...

"Want it," he gasps. It was so hard to speak and his thoughts are a scattered mess. "Show. I'm yours."

"You want me to continue fucking you in front of them?" Nightmare asks, delighted. "You want me to laugh in their faces as they wield their wooden crosses at me when they try to banish me? Shall I bathe them in flame and watch them burn alive when they do?"

Hob doesn't care. He could barely remember them anyway.

"It is tempting," Dream admits. "I want to see the look on their faces when they realize that Father Robert didn't just disappear mysteriously, but was instead granted a better life. However," and here he grinds harder to emphasize his point. Hob keens, toes curling and legs shaking. He has lost count of how many times he came, but he could feel the pressure building in his stomach once more. He'll probably cum dry this time. Or totally lose control of his body and squirt all over Dream. It's already happened once. "I do not want anyone else to see you like this. Only I should have that privilege. Don't you agree?"

Hob nods frantically. Whatever his husband wants. Fuck, his cock feels so good. Hob wants him to fill him up more until he grows round with his cum.

"No, I think we'll just leave them a nice little Christmas present." And with that, Dream wraps his hand around Hob's cock and starts stroking him to the rhythm of his thrusts. Hob practically seizes, wailing, cumming dry, as Dream pounds him harder through his orgasm before shooting another batch of cum straight into Hob's newly formed womb.

--

When the first group of deacons arrive to make the final preparations for the Midnight Mass, the mess on the floor that Hob created is not the first thing they see. Nor do they notice that the altar was desecrated by a truly overflowing amount of both human and demon cum.

They would have noticed these things, but Dream kept his promise and left them his Christmas present, to help make the church look more festive at such an important time in their liturgical calendar.

He did this by covering every interior surface of the church, from ceiling to floor, and not missing a single statue, with fresh, bright red blood.

[pomegranateandhoney]

My heart is heavy for the lives lost, the people injured, and the terrible suffering that accompanies war. I also continue to believe Israel is a miracle we are wise not to take for granted, just as I believe that all people deserve peace, equality, equity, and respect. Earnestly we pray for hope: hope for the resolution of war, hope for the future of the state of Israel, hope for the end of oppression and sufering, hope for all people who seek peace, hope for humanity to nurture the hope that we can build a future of peace for Israel, its neighbors, and the world.

Many of us have favorite organizations to give tzedakah in times of emergency. For those who would like to make financial donations: 

Magen David Adom 

Hadassah Hospitals 

MSF / Doctors Without Borders

Alliance for Middle East Peace

Medical Aid for Palestinians

United Nations Relief and Work Agency

While we may feel limited in the actions we can take, we are not limited in the prayers we can offer, the learning we can do to try to understand the situation, and the demands we can make of ourselves and others to “shun evil, do good, seek peace and pursue it” (Psalm 34:15). 

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/19

What am I feeling today?

Tired but excited and grateful! Today is my last clinical rotation on the stroke unit and as much as I enjoyed it, I’m really looking forward to being able to rest and have my Tuesdays open!

Bible Plan: Spiritual Wilderness

In my younger years, it was hard for me to continue my devotions when I didn’t feel His presence for a while. It was discouraging, but I have learned a few things that have changed my perspective.

One thing I learned is that God promises to reward those who fervently seek Him, not who only find Him. We don’t seek God because He is lost. He is always near to us because His Spirit lives within us. We go to prayer not to find God but to be with Him. With that said, there are seasons in life where it seems and feels like His manifest presence is gone.

During these seasons you must understand that God is building up your faith since Jesus is the author and perfecter of your faith. Without faith, it is impossible to please God, and this faith gets stronger as your feelings get weaker. You are forced to rely only on God’s Word, not on your feelings or experiences. In seasons of your spiritual wilderness, only faith can help you come closer to God. If you live by your feelings, you will feel distant from God. When you go to God’s throne in spite of your negative feelings, you are building your faith.

I find it encouraging that He is not a rewarder of those who feel or experience Him but of those who do their best to seek Him.

King David was called “a man after His own heart”. God didn’t say that David had His heart; he was simply after it. David was in constant pursuit of God. In reading the Psalms that he wrote, we see his heart’s journey into the presence of God. At times he would complain that he didn’t feel God, yet he was still seeking after Him. God likes that. He wants us to pursue Him, even when we don’t feel like it.

In fact, not only does God love that we pursue Him, but He also rewards us. This truth has been the source of my encouragement. I don’t submit to my feelings, but I let my faith grow by going to God no matter what’s happening in my life.

There’s so much to get from this and I thought it was incredible! First off, seeking Him over finding Him. You can find God once because He’s not far from any one of us, but seeking Him is a daily thing. You have to consistently go after Him day after day, acknowledging Him when you feel like it is not biblically sound.

Additionally with the seeking, relying on His word instead of your feelings. The heart is deceitful and your feelings are not always accurate. We can sometimes let ourselves be controlled by our feelings and let them direct how we operate but that can lead us down the wrong path. God’s word will always be right and ready for you, so read it, use it, apply it, keep it in your heart!

1 Samuel 13:13-14 NIV

““You have done a foolish thing,” Samuel said. “You have not kept the command the Lord your God gave you; if you had, he would have established your kingdom over Israel for all time. But now your kingdom will not endure; the Lord has sought out a man after his own heart and appointed him ruler of his people, because you have not kept the Lord’s command.””

For reference, this is Samuel rebuking Saul and the one who talks about in regard to who the Lord has sought out is David. Even though David struggled a lot, He always sought after God, seeking Him daily and I really want to imitate that as best I can.

Hebrews 11:6 NIV

“And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”

I mean this is very self explanatory and emphasizes the importance of our faith and seeking after God every single day.

Hebrews 12:1-2 NIV

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

“Let us run with perseverance” -> I want to place some emphasis on this. We can get tired and weary in our walk with God, especially when we’re in the spiritual wilderness where even our own emotions can be attacking our faith. But God wants us to persevere, we need to have our hearts set on the goal of it all, to be reunited with God after death! Also, Jesus is meant to guide us in this! He’s the perfected of our faith! Without him, we’d have no chance in having a relationship with God and it’s important to remember and be grateful for what he did for us on the cross.

[neetily]

Forgiveness - KINKTOBER DAY 29 (REPENT) - (SDV) Alex

— ✧ warnings: blowjob, Religious context, yoba usage (sorry), public — ✧ word count: 951

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

"Do you trust me?"

His previous words were but a coax, spoken with the serpents tongue during prayer as you curiously but earnestly nod back at him, sat neatly in the back row of Pierre's makeshift church during daily service.

He's not much of a religious man himself, but he is an honest man, and when he prompts you to lower your head and gently applies a little pressure to guide your nose to his hard cock he promises to keep watch for you — and he means it. Whether or not your skilful tongue allows him to keep his end of the bargain is another story though, coughing to hide the tell-tale zip sound of his jeans opening as you get to work. Your pretty pout looking up at him one last time with his cock held loosely in your much smaller hands is a sight to see, causing him to bite his lip to hold back the moan that wants to escape before nodding down at you once, returning his attention to the front as prayer continues to be read.

"Yer all right, I got'chu." He whispers, softly brushing his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear so that he can see your pretty face once you start suck him off. "No ones watchin'." He promises after taking a cursory glance, winking down at you as a signal to get going.

And to your credit you take him at his word, teasingly starting to lick around his salty with precum tip to prompt more to spill for you to lap up, his legs widening and hips gently rolling upwards to get comfortable in the otherwise uncomfortable pews offered in the altar room. The result of his movements causing you to squeak a little at the surprising amount of cock pressed against your tongue and he hopes it's muffled enough by his intrusion for no one else to notice because he can't look up now- Not when your lips take to wrapping so well around his tip, tongue swirling to swallow each bead of precum as it spills for you and your cute cheeks all hallowed for his pleasure. You're so fuckin' cute like this, he thinks. So pretty that he wants to reward you, fuck your pretty face and cum right down your tight throat, but he can't. Not in public, and certainly not in front of Yoba, letting you take your time as you slowly bob up and down his twitching length, wetting it all up appropriately until you're forced to nuzzle against his pelvis. It causes him to suck a harsh breath between his teeth, willing himself not to wolf whistle down at you in appreciation of your tongue flat against his whole cock, the little huff of breath you sniff going straight to his needy tip as he dribble pre down your throat. If getting sucked off in front of Yoba is bad then he's glad he doesn't consider himself a strict follower.

It takes every ounce of strength he has not to moan deeply for you then, his muscles tight and tense, flexing under your attention as you slowly glide off his cock — not fully, leaving only the tip to remain in your warm mouth before sucking down again, repeating the motion at a steady tempo so as to avoid too much noise he knows but fuck he'd do anything for just a little more. A quick — and he means quick — glance up to scan the room again shows that you're still undetected, sucking his cock in front of Yoba and for all that is holy you're sucking him so good, his dirty little girl just doing what feels right, isn't she? And Yoba can't blame you for that, no. Just the same as how Yoba can't blame him from placing a hand at the back of your head, tapping every time he wants you to suck back down until your practically never off his cock, throating his tip so perfectly that he's got no choice but to hump his hips into you just a little bit. He can't stop the shuddered sighs from escaping his lips either, head thrown back briefly to fully relish in how well you suck him off, smirking to himself as you do exactly as he's asked without a second thought.

As if he were God and you were his believer in that moment.

Watching you worship his cock, sucking and slurping despite the threat of getting caught, being looked upon under Yoba's ever watchful eye as he lightly fucks his cock further down your throat — he can hardly contain himself at the repentful situation. And as you hum low in the absence of your usual choked moans against his cock the vibrations inevitably cause him to cum, his hand tight and unfair in your hair as he wraps it around his fingers, shoving your face flush against his pubes for him to rock his tip down your throat at his own pace, spilling his seed as far down as possible for you to enjoy. A thank you for blowing him simply because he asked. Completing your own little prayer of love and affection for him by swallowing everything he offers, even the little dribbles of cum that spurt out at your blatantly lewd display to your audience of one.

You finish with a pop, the sound reverberating against the spacious walls and causing a few heads to turn, just in time for you to wipe your lips clean. He gives those who have turned a lazily smile, half lidded and self satisfied as you peck his cheek.

He'll make you beg Yoba for forgiveness when home.

[theprayerfulword]

November 21

Psalm 119:64 The earth, O Lord, is full of thy mercy: teach me Thy statutes.

Acts 20:35 I have shewed you all things, how that so labouring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.

John 12:24 Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.

1 Samuel 16:7 But the Lord said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

Mark 5:19 And he did not permit him but said to him, “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.”

Psalm 51:1-2 Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love; according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.

May you earnestly desire the privilege of dwelling in the house of the Lord, abiding in His presence, surrounded by His glory, ministering to Him, for just as the temple had many private chambers for the priests, so Jesus promised that in His Fathers house are many rooms, which He has gone to prepare. Ezekiel 42, John 14

May you put away any thing which receives the portion designated for and claimed by God – any thing or any one to whom you give worship and complete surrender, devotion above all others, thanksgiving and praise for what you have, confession and repentance for forgiveness and cleansing – for only as you remove from the throne what you have placed there and give to God that which belongs to God, and to the world that which belongs to the world, will the Lord come to live and abide with you forever. Ezekiel 43

May you know that the goods and wealth which can be hoarded will not be of use when you truly need it in the day of the Lord, so owe no man any debt except the debt of love, and let good works, done in obedience to the Father, lay up true riches suitable for eternity and appropriate to offer the King. James 5

May you be patient until the Lord's coming, just as the farmer waits for the land to yield its crop, waiting for the rain in due season, standing firm because His arrival is near, not grumbling against each other, for the Judge is already at the door. James 5

May you be blessed as you persevere in patient suffering for righteousness sake, as did the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord, for you have heard of Job's perseverance, and have seen what the Lord, full of compassion and mercy, finally brought about. James 5

May your speech be plain, without embellishments, that you may not dishonor your Head and that men may know that you are walking in integrity. James 5

May you turn to God continually each day, conversing with Him, listening to what the Spirit says, in all states, whether you are in trouble and distress, or happy and full of praise, or ill in body or mind and needing the support and strength of the called out ones, for the prayer offered by faith in the name of the Lord will make the sick well and bring the sinner forgiveness as you confess to, and pray for, each other for healing through the powerful and effective prayer of righteousness in Christ. James 5

May you remember that whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins. James 5

My child, I call you to work, not to idleness. It is a sacred work that I assign you, one for which you have been shaped and formed by My Hand, trained and equipped by My Spirit. It is not a work you can do in your own strength and skill, nor one that you can accomplish with your own strategies and wisdom. If you begin to feel you have been given an impossible task, My dear one, then you are beginning to truly see and hear what My Spirit is speaking to your heart. It is when you feel a dread inside and a concern that you have bitten off more than you can chew, when you start wondering if you were wise to promise to follow Me where I would lead you that I can begin to truly use you in My work. That is when, in desperation, you will begin to lay aside the useless tools of man and the worthless wisdom of the world and come to Me in humility, asking for My wisdom and seeking to find My strength in My Word. I rejoice to receive you at the time you feel the most worthless and the least valuable, for I can only use an empty vessel, not one filled with self-confidence and influenced by other agendas. Empty yourself, My precious one, and receive My infilling; seek Me early for your daily bread and wine and oil, then go in My strength and joy and glory to fulfill My commission, returning empty but obedient, having gone forth bearing fruit and returning bearing the harvest.

May your ways be undefiled, upright, truly sincere and blameless as you order your conduct and conversation according to the revealed will of God, for you shall be blessed, happy, fortunate and to be envied. Psalm 119

May you seek the Lord, inquiring for and of Him, craving Him with your whole heart, for those who keep His testimonies and statutes will be joyful, blessed, happy, and fortunate. Psalm 119

May you walk in the ways of the Lord that you will do no unrighteousness or willful wandering from His precepts. Psalm 119

May you keep the precepts of the Lord and observe them diligently as He has commanded, fully obeying them for the joy set before you. Psalm 119

May your ways be steadfast, directed and established, in hearing, receiving, loving and obeying His decrees, for then you will not be put to shame by failing to inherit His promises, when you have respect to all the commands of the Lord. Psalm 119

May you praise Him and give thanks to Him with an upright heart as you learn by sanctified experiences His righteous decisions against and punishments for particular lines of thought and conduct, for He will not forsake you utterly as you obey His decrees. Psalm 119

May you take heed to and keep watch on yourself, conforming your life according to His word, that you may cleanse and keep your way pure. Psalm 119

May you seek the Lord with all your heart, inquiring for and of Him, ever yearning for Him, that He will not let you wander, stray, or step aside, willfully or in ignorance, from His commands. Psalm 119

May you lay up His word in your heart that you might not sin against Him. Psalm 119

May you declare and recount with your lips all the laws and ordinances that come from His mouth, praising the Lord as He teaches you His decrees and statutes. Psalm 119

May you rejoice in following His statutes as others rejoice in great riches. Psalm 119

May you never forget or neglect the word of the Lord, but delight yourself in His statutes, rejoice in His decrees, and meditate on His precepts, having respect to the paths of life marked out by His law, as you consider His ways. Psalm 119

May you be discerning enough to prefer being a poor person who walks blameless in his integrity rather than a rich man whose ways are perverse, gaining his wealth through double-dealing. Proverbs 28:6

May you be a discerning child of God who heeds the law of the Lord, not entertaining companions who serve worthlessness. Proverbs 28:7

[shammah8]

RHAPSODY OF REALITIES

                                           MONDAY 11

THE LEGALITIES OF INTERCESSION

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📖 Put me in remembrance: let us plead together: declare thou, that thou mayest be justified (Isaiah 43:26).

Pastor Chris Says

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When we pray, especially in intercession, it's crucial to understand the legalities involved. Intercession requires a deep comprehension of these legalities because it's an argumentative prayer, where you present your case, make your claims, and provide the legal reasons for your requests.

Intercession is different from the prayer of faith, although it still requires faith. The prayer of faith is often a single declaration, a one-time statement where you believe and receive, trusting that it is done. However, intercession frequently requires importunity, earnestness, and fervency in prayer because it involves standing in the gap for others. Without such intensity and persistence in intercession, things could go awry for those you're praying for.

In intercession, you're taking a stand between God and the person or people you're praying for. You step in on their behalf, presenting your case before God and explaining why what you're asking for should be done for them. This is why it's important to be clear about your legal position and claims when interceding. This is much more than just asking God for something; it's about understanding the authority you've been given and using it effectively to argue your case.

So learn to stand in the gap and bring the needs of others before God in prayer. Study God's Word intensely to know it intimately so you can use the Word to plead your case effectively. Remember what He said in Isaiah 41:21, "Produce your cause, saith the LORD; bring forth your strong reasons, saith the King of Jacob." Then in Chapter 43 verse 26, He said, "Put me in remembrance: let us plead together: declare thou, that thou mayest be justified." Our confidence that He hears and grants our intercessions is on the basis of His Word. Blessed be God!

         🙏 P R A Y E R

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Righteous Father, I thank you for the privilege of intercession, where I can stand in the gap for others to fervently plead their case in accordance to your Word. Thank you for the authority you've given to me in Christ to establish your will on earth and in the lives of people everywhere, in Jesus' Name. Amen.

       📖 FURTHER STUDY:

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James 5:16-18 AMPC;  Confess to one another therefore your faults (your slips, your false steps, your offenses, your sins) and pray [also] for one another, that you may be healed and restored [to a spiritual tone of mind and heart]. The earnest (heartfelt, continued) prayer of a righteous man makes tremendous power available [dynamic in its working].

[17]  Elijah was a human being with a nature such as we have [with feelings, affections, and a constitution like ours]; and he prayed earnestly for it not to rain, and no rain fell on the earth for three years and six months.

18]  And [then] he prayed again and the heavens supplied rain and the land produced its crops [as usual]. 

1 Timothy 2:1-6;  I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men;

[2] for kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.

[3] For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour;

[4] who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth.

[5] For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus;

[6] who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time. 

Hosea 14:2; Take with you words, and turn to the LORD: say unto him, Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously: so will we render the calves of our lips.

[phoenixradiant]

Hey all I've been in a Daurian-writing mood lately, and since the character intros are held up by my current pixel art escapades (i.e. No character portraits atm), thought I'd write something instead, so here, have a treat. Not my best work, but passable for something that isn't part of Kelovir proper.

The Wolf - Lycoris

Lycoris had never killed anyone before. She'd wanted to- in her situation, who wouldn't- she'd had nightmares about it, she'd trained to be able to; but by Awai's grace, it had never come to that. Until now, at least. Her dark green hair flew out behind her as she dove under the bandit's next swing. Battle wasn't a dance, not in the mystical sense many regarded it, but there was a sort of rhythm to the steps. Rolling to her feet without wasting an instant, she backpedaled another few steps, trying to remember where she'd dropped her sword. Finally she spied it on the ground in a patch of tall grass. Lycoris raised her hand to her forehead, then imploded into mist. For a brief moment, she was as a spirit, gliding effortlessly through the air, hearing light, the pleasant tones of late morning bathing her in warmth. Then she began to fall. She hit the ground hard, but her fingers closed around her sword and she was on her feet again before the bandit had even realized she was behind him now. A dull pounding in the back of her skull reminded her not to get reckless. She ignored it, flinging her newly recovered blade at the man's back. It sunk in deep, but the wound began to close almost instantly. She raised her hand to her forehead once again. The pounding multiplied a hundredfold. She couldn't feel the warmth through the pain. She was trying to think, but her head felt like splitting. She waited for the pain to abate, floating there in the world of light. It didn't. She'd finally pushed herself too far. Should've waited, she thought, a few more seconds between glides. She couldn't think much more than that; it was drowned out by her mind's screaming. She searched for something soothing, something familiar, solid. Something free from pain. Nothing. There never was anything. She had to push through the pain. She always did. She was good at it, by now. Her hand grasped her sword once again, but this time she drifted down onto both feet. Lycoris stepped back, pulling her blade out of the man's back before swinging wide through his neck. His body tried to grow a new head and his head tried to grow a new body, but eventually both gave up. From stories her father told her, other lands were less... brutal. You killed people and they died quickly, stayed dead, unless they were demons. These days she questioned how he'd known. Lycoris staggered a half dozen steps away from the pooling blood before collapsing to her knees. Separate herself from her mind. Like she'd practiced. Breathe in. Breathe out. Trace a prayer for mercy on her forehead. Breathe in. Breathe out. Separate the mind. What was left? Body and soul. Doing and being. No more thinking. Lycoris stood, pain receding slightly, and continued along the road.

---

Lycoris was running out of people to help. It was time to move on. She drew a few sketches of the plants in question, then handed them to the boy. "Give this to your mother. You're going to need to forage all of these and grind them into paste and eat it once every two days for the next three weeks." He nodded earnestly; they always did that, acting like she was some sort of angel, for her words to be internalized and proclaimed to the world. She admitted to herself it was fulfilling in a way. But that wasn't why she did it. She helped people because it was good to do so, and because doing good felt good. So maybe she was an angel, in an odd sort of way. Someone who did good for the sake of good. And that was why it was time to move on. There was more good to be done elsewhere. She patted the boy on the shoulder and turned to leave. "You sure you don't want to stay, priestess?" A shepherd asked as she passed the village gate. It reminded her of home, how the grass grew so plentifully you could keep the sheep within eyesight of the village. Then she realized what he'd asked. Her hands clenched, though she hoped he didn't notice. "I've said before, I'm no priestess." The shepherd shrugged. "You're a Daurian. Makes no difference to me. Now do ya want to stay or not? In just a few days we've a festival, seems to me you could use 'ne o' those at least. Few days can't hurt." "Can't hurt me, maybe. But there's people who need me. Some of them desperately. I'd best be off. Thank you for your hospitality." She smiled as she bowed, but strode swiftly into the wilderness like a child running back home through a dark forest. They hung on her every word like she was an angel, but she knew the truth. They were brave. She wasn't.

---

The salve was a touch too thick, too viscous. Lycoris moved to add some water, thought better of it, and poured out the contents of her wooden cup instead. The wine mixed better than water did, for reasons Lycoris hadn't studied enough to quite understand. She would love nothing more than have understood, to have spent the days cloistered away in study, reading until her eyes grew heavy and her skin turned paler than marble for want of sunlight. But she couldn't. She knew that. That was why she'd sworn the oath. "Cor? You're making that face again." Lycoris drew herself back to the present. She turned to the young Thasnian woman whose bandages she was changing as they sat watching the sunset. "Was I? Sorry, just concentrating." "I'd believe that if it hadn't been half a minute since you'd actually done anything." She smiled, a teasing, yet half-serious smile. That was exactly the kind of smile her brother used to give her. "Something on your mind?" "No more than usual, Seln." "So yes." Lycoris grimaced. Seln was infuriatingly perceptive like that. Or perhaps she was just easy to read. Lycoris brushed the salve across one side of the bandage before beginning to wrap it around Seln's foot. "At the moment I'm thinking that you ought to be more careful running through the street barefoot." "And the moment before that?" "I was thinking how annoying your questions were getting." "And before that, Cor?" Lycoris pulled the bandage taut, painted on a touch more of the salve to act as glue, and secured the loose end to the rest of the binding. She neglected to answer. "Why do I keep coming back here, Seln?" "Because I need your help, and no one here knows how to do it the way you do." "You hadn't yet driven a stake through your foot when I came here the first two times. Yet I came back a third." "Well, the sunset's nice," Seln offered. "And we've a proper temple. I suppose you'd like that." Lycoris shrugged. She'd never liked temples, though she'd never been able to place exactly why either. "And I suppose it's pretty quiet here. It's not like everywhere else, where there's a festival every three weeks and if not that than a wedding, or a war, or a plague. Here we just... are. I like that. I don't see why you wouldn't." She knew why she wouldn't. The same reason she wasn't a priestess. The same reason it bothered her that she'd been here so many times before. The rest of her people were like dogs. They lived each day serving their masters, be they mortal or divine, and in return they were taken care of generously, and allowed to live life in the otherwise reclusive communities of western Alador. Nor were her people alone; it seemed that this was how most lived their lives, and were happy to do so. Lycoris, like a wolf, envied the dogs, loved the life they led, but it could not be hers. By nature she feared it. Hated it. And so she tried. Each day she would not rest until she had done the work of the dogs, to help a poor soul in need, in hopes that one day, the work would make her ready for the reward. She'd made that oath five years before. "Cor?" Seln drew her hand back to slap her back to reality. Lycoris stirred. "I- Seln, I don't think- I have to go. I don't know when I'll be back." "Lycoris, what's-" But she was already running away.

---

Lycoris ran for hours, through twilight into the night, her light pack beating into her back with every frantic pounding step. Tears were streaming down her face, moonlight illuminating wet streaks from where she'd wiped them away with her hands. She couldn't go back. She couldn't live like them. Not yet. Maybe never. She stumbled to her knees, heart racing, but body and mind giving out. She couldn't keep going. But she had to. Lycoris gathered herself and looked into the place where spirits glided and light made sound, listening to its soothing tones. It was calming. A beautiful place. One that pained her to even watch. No longer frenzied or panicked, Lycoris lay down among the dew-touched grass, not shaking, not lashing out, but weeping all the more for her stillness.