#me in sunday service amen

[slyblonder]

King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

©️slyblonder

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a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

#ateez #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #song mingi smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #slyblonder

[xanqels]

For I Have Sinned.

DarkCorruptedPriest!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

Summary: Father Miller sets eyes on you, and decides then and there that you are to be ruined by him.

Parings: joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! No outbreak au! reader is a virgin and very naive, loss of innocence, corruption kink (he’s into taking her vcard), blackmail, dubcon, virginity loss, fingering, slight humiliation(?), bit of mocking, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweet girl etc), dirty talk, using the lords name in vain, unprotected piv (wrap before you tap), power imbalance, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is mid to late 20s, Joel is late 50s), Joel is an asshole in this, mentions of god/the bible/sinning. Conclusion: Joel should not be a priest. if there’s any i’ve misses please let me know.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I would like to thank @chloeangelic for inspiring me to write this and also giving me some encouragement, and I’d also like to thank @toxicanonymity for inspiring me to write dark!joel and creating the joelkemon universe. Also I do apologise if the timing of the story is a bit everywhere, this is my first fanfic!! any and all criticism is welcome with open arms.

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He still remembers the first day he met you.

You and your family had brought him a pie, a cherry one. They wanted to welcome him, congratulate him for becoming the new priest in their humble town. A sweet gesture from such a perfectly sweet girl and her devout family.

He remembered your face, he could draw it from memory if he wanted to - if he could draw, that was. The perfect mix of beauty, grace and innocence stood before him that very day and he was hooked. Hooked on your gaze, your smile, your scent, but most of all, your innocence and blind naivety to the world.

He knew then and there, that you were his to ruin.

Every Sunday from then on, his eyes were stuck on you, what you were wearing, the way your cheeks flushed when your eyes met his. Everything about you was mere perfection. A sight of innocence, of naivety that he couldn’t wait to take hold of and ruin for every other man.

He wanted his name to be the last thing on your lips at night, and the first thing to be spoken in the morning. He wanted to curse your mind with images of him, to make you worship him instead of God. And so, in his mind he curated the perfect plan to get you alone.

“Go forth, knowing that you are cherished,” His voice, a deep texan accent, talking to the congregation, “chosen and empowered by the Creator of the Universe.” But why did it feel as though he was talking to purely you? His words, so enchanting you lingered on every line he spoke. His sermons were fresh, new and slightly modern. A stark contrast from Father Rafferty’s sermons.

“May his grace be upon you. Now and forevermore.” He looks up, eyes scanning the room before landing on yours. Dark brown iris’ peering into your soul, as you feel your cheeks flush. He likes the way your cheeks blush when you look at him. You want him. You need him, he tells himself. “Amen.” He states as you look away, the rest of the congregation, including yourself muttering a simple ‘Amen.’

As you and your family stand up in preparation to leave, Father Miller approaches you, a wide smile on his lips with his Bible and rosary beads in hand. “Mr and Mrs Spencer.” He says, shaking your fathers hand. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“Well, Father, we could never miss one of your services.” Your mother speaks as you look idly at the floor, eyes tracing over the darkened, dented wood from where people have walked over time. You tune out the conversation, feeling ashamed for dropping Father Millers eyes earlier, and feeling so stupid for blushing.

“Won’t you, honey?” Your fathers voice snaps you out from your thoughts, eyes wide as you look between the three of them. “Pardon?” You ask, heart thumping in your chest.

“Father Miller wants you to help him decorate the church for Easter Sunday. There’ll be plenty of other people there. I think it’d be an excellent idea.” Your father says, as your eyes dart to Father Millers. He smiles, a sweet smile. A comforting, pleasant smile which puts you at ease. Those dark chocolate brown eyes, soft and kind.

You nod, and he clasped his hands together in glee. “Well, perfect. It’ll take a little while, but there’ll be plenty of breaks and we’ll provide food. Hopefully you don’t mind me keeping your daughter occupied for the entire day.” Father Miller says, and your parents don’t seem to mind. Just as long as you’re being the perfect catholic girl you’ve always been. Just as long as you’re kept out of trouble, and as long as you help Father Miller with whatever he needs.

A devout catholic you were. Born and baptised, risen in a strong catholic household and desperate to please the priest. You’d do anything he’d say or ask, as long as it wasn’t a sin, and Joel knew that. He knew how desperate you were to please someone so close to God, his messenger, how you itched to be as pure and holy as one could be. He knew he’d got you wrapped around his little finger

And so, the plan was set in motion. And at 11am on the following Thursday, you were there at the church doors, pushing the solid oak open as you walk into the dim room, the only form of light being the candles Father Miller had lit and the sun shining through the stained-glass windows.

Expecting to be met with various murmurs and fellow church-goers, you find the place empty. Completely deserted, almost, until your eyes lay on him. Tall, stoic and his gaze piercing at you, taking you in. Your small frame, your long white dress, the way your hair lay against your shoulders. The image of innocence.

He smiles, that same sweet smile that he gave you the previous Sunday. “You made it.” He says, walking towards you with his arms out, almost as though he was going to envelope you in a hug.

But he didn’t. He clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms together. “Father Miller.” You exhale softly, eyes scoping the otherwise empty church. “I thought we were all meeting here at eleven. Where is everyone?” You ask, twirling a strand of long hair around your index finger.

He shrugs. “‘m afraid I don’t know. I did invite them.” He says, lying through his teeth. You wouldn’t know that, of course. Too naive to think any differently, to even have a thought that Father Miller may just lie to you. Truth is, he didn’t invite anyone else. Not a single soul. It was only you and him.

You frown, clearly unhappy with the way no one else seemed to turn up but you. The way they so blatantly chose to ignore Father Miller’s need for help. “But you asked for help, surely they should’ve come.”

“Perhaps they got busy.” He lies, looking around the church, eyes glaring at the empty walls. “Anyways, this place won’t decorate itself.” He grins, turning and walking towards the back, hand gesturing for you to follow.

And you do, obediently. Into the back room of the church, full of foldable tables and chairs, boxes of decorations and broken pews. It’s dark, and smells of dust and mildew. The smell violates your nose as you try to adjust to the light, and then Joel flicks a switch, and a singular, dim lightbulb sparks to life.

You grimace at the surroundings. Untidy, dusty and slightly damp. There’s a dark oak table in the corner of the room, covered in cardboard boxes that are filled to the brim. Obviously this room hardly gets properly taken care of, but in a small town like yours, you aren’t surprised. Most of the things that enter this room hardly come back out, unless needed. But, you aren’t here to judge, you’re here to help. Help this poor, middle-aged priest who blessed the community with his sermons and his striking good looks… wait what?

You sigh as you approach the table full of boxes, slender fingers prising open the lids and rooting through the boxes of old memories and décor.

Behind you, Joel was hungrily glaring at your figure. The way you got to work without any questions. So submissive, so silent. Oh, how he can’t wait to hear you moan his name. To cum all over his cock, to..

“Father Miller?” His thoughts are cut off by your melodic voice drifting through the air. “What exactly are we looking for?”

He chuckles, slowly approaching the table. “Sweetheart, it’s not Sunday, and we’re not in a sermon. Please, call me Joel. Let’s drop the formalities for now.” He smiles, looking down at you, and then, his hand is on your lower back. Hardly an inch above your ass. “Just some decorations. Some banners, the candles, my white robe should be in here somewhere.”

You gasp, the feeling foreign and leaving a strange feeling in your loins. You look up from the boxes of discarded mess, eyes meeting his. “Father Miller..” You start, but he glares at you, eyebrows raised. You squint your eyes shut and scrunch your face up, mentally cursing at yourself for not using the name he’d asked you to use. “I mean, Joel..” You clear your throat. “Why would your robe be in here? Surely it should be at your house, or somewhere safe atleast?” Your eyes slowly open, meeting his again.

He looks at his hand, gliding it up and down your back slowly, as though he was comforting you. “Well, William – Sorry, Father Rafferty left it in here for me. Just haven’t had chance to come rootin’ through the boxes.” He hums, a low tune, a soft one. “So, Sweetheart, tell me.. have you ever sinned?”

The abrupt question makes you freeze up, frown at the thought and straighten up slightly, eyebrows furrowed. “What sort of a question is that?” You ask. “Of course not. Well… I don’t think I have.” You say, wracking your brain for an answer. It’s normal for him to ask these sorts of questions, right? He’s just looking out for you. To make sure you’re on the right path, that you’re pure and holy. You’ve never even looked at another man in a sinful way, let alone kiss one. Sure, you might think the odd boy is cute, and maybe you’ve looked at Father Miller – Joel in a different way, and that’s made you feel sinful. You have to admit though, his scruffy salt and pepper beard, dark eyes and calloused hands are no match for any of the local boys. Joel was beautiful. Handsome, even. But he was thirty years your junior, and the priest. It’d ruin his career and his relationship with God, yours too. You couldn’t do it to yourself.

“You’ve never kissed a boy?” He asks, curiosity peaking. You knew kissing wasn’t a sin, but it’s not like you needed to worry about it. You shake your head, saying nothing. “Would you like to kiss one?” He asks, his body suddenly moving to engulf yours, his crotch right against your ass as he wraps his arms around your waist. You shudder at the movement, his breath hot against your ear.

“Father, I’m not sure this is right.” The formalities are back, you’re unsure, nervous and confused. Never once has he acted this way towards you, so flirtatious and curious. And yet you find yourself wanting more. A burning forming deep inside of you.

“Joel.” He corrects. “And it’s alright, darling. Won’t do nothing you don’t want me to do.” He grabs your hips and turns you around in his arms so you’re facing him. He places his index finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

You swallow thickly, eyes scanning his features. His scruffy beard is stark in contrast to his combed-back hair. The weathering on is face is showing, proving his age, showing how wise he is. He’s gorgeous, for an older man. You never would’ve assumed he was in his fifties, had he not told you. You bite your lip, weighing out the pros and cons in your mind of potentially giving your first kiss to this man.

“Just tell me what you want, Darlin’.” He speaks, “it’s not a sin. Well, it’s definitely not a sin if you kiss me. We won’t be doing anything wrong.” He urges, watching intently as your tongue pokes out and swipes against your lower lip. You nod, if anyone should know about sin it’s him. If anyone should know what’s right or wrong, it’s him.

He doesn’t waste a second, closing the space between the pair of you, his lips pressing against yours. They’re plump and warm against yours, and you’re not sure what to do. You try to copy his movements, lips moving when his do. It’s hard and confusing at first, but you manage to get the hang of it slowly. It’s innocent at first. Soft, sweet and oh, so innocent. But the more he presses against you, the more your back presses against you solid oak table. The sharp edge digging into your back, the pain making you gasp. Joel takes this opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. A wet, warm foreign feeling in your mouth.

It’s a long kiss, deep and hungry. His tongue prodding and attacking your mouth every so often, and you could swear you feel something warm and tingly in your lower stomach. You’re stood awkwardly, hands by your sides with absolutely no sense of direction, that is until Joel takes your hands and places them around his neck. You allow it, and as you settle in, his hands find their place on your waist, calloused fingers digging through your cotton dress.

You wince as he nips your bottom lip with his teeth, and you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. His eyes dark with a newfound fire in them, and something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Fuck angel, you taste so good.” Joel whispers, his hand coming up and brushing through your hair as he takes your form in. Slightly plumped lips, red and glossy from your shared saliva, eyes wide and still in shock from the moments. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He leans in again, and even though you expect for him to kiss you again, his lips find a new place – on your neck. His beard tickles the sensitive skin, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, which only just peaks out of your modest dress. Your breath catches in your throat, the fire in your stomach growing strangely stronger, more apparent. You sigh out as he plants a wet kiss against your collarbone, his tongue gliding from your collarbone up to your earlobe.

“Such a good girl.” He murmurs in your ear, his fists grabbing your dress and starting to pull it up. You gasp, placing your hand on top of his to stop him, shaking your head.

“No.” You state. “That’s a sin, I can’t go any further, Father. It’s not right.” You tussle in his grip. “I’m waiting until marriage like I should, like God said I should.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” He purrs, slowly shaking your hand off his. “It’s not a sin if you do it with me. It doesn’t count.” He lies, tugging your dress up so it’s just above your waist. He slips his free hand into the waistband of your panties, hissing as his fingers are met with your arousal. “Oh, baby.” He purrs, his finger skilfully prodding your clit. You whine in his arms. “You’re so wet, so desperate.” Wet? That’s what it is? You’re aroused? By this? That strange, unfamiliar feeling in your gut was caused by him?

His fingers swipe your clit, moving at different angles until your face twisted in pleasure and your mouth drops open. A strangled moan comes from the back of your throat, a noise you didn’t even know you could make. A noise you shouldn’t make, but you can’t help it. You can’t stop the chorus of moans falling from your lips, and to Joel it sounds just like a hymn sung in church. So beautiful and melodic to his ears. He loves it.

His index finger trails down, making you frown at the loss of pleasure, prodding your tight hole. You gasp, immediately itching to get out of his grip again. His grip only tightens, and he pulls his hand out of your panties. He looks at the wetness on his hand in the dim light, admiring the shine and your embarrassed face. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Sweetheart.” He winks before popping his fingers in his mouth and sucking your juices clean off them. You at him in both shock and awe as he reaches behind you and clears the table off, boxes falling on the floor with decorations scattering around the room.

He lifts you up, your dress still hiked around your waist as he places you on the table, stepping between your thighs. “You gon’ show me all of you, pretty girl?” He asks, caressing your face with the same hand he just sucked clean. You felt sick to your stomach, but at the same time, you yearned for more.

“Forgive me, Father..” You mutter quietly to the man himself upstairs, as you nod your head and lift your arms up. Joel takes complete advantage of this, removing your dress and discarding it on the dirty floor. You know it’ll be dirty and possibly ruined when you retrieve it after, but you’re sure you’ll make something up to appease your parents.

He whistles lowly at the sight of you in your underwear, and since he asked if you would show him all of you, he doesn’t ask if he can unclasp your bra, he just does it, hardly giving you time to react. The cool air immediately makes your nipples harden, stiff peaks standing to attention, desperate to be touched. To be manhandled and played with. He discards your bra ontop of your dress, his hands coming back and cupping your boobs.

You bite your lip at the new sensation as he fondles them “Do you trust me?” He asks, what a stupid question – of course you do. You nod, and he removes his hands from your breasts, his fingers sliding into the waistband of your panties. You lift yourself off the table slightly, after a glare of expectance from Joel, and he pries your soaking wet panties from your body, the soft pink colour now darker where wet.

“Oh, Darlin’.” He groans as he fingers the damp patch, and your cheeks grow hot again. “I’ve hardly even touched you. Hardly even shown you what a good time I can give ya.” He grins, a devilish grin, as he stuffs your soiled panties into his back pocket.

You shiver in anticipation, any worries of sinning or ruining yourself for marriage being long gone. After all, Father Joel Miller said it was okay, and that it wasn’t a sin asking as you did it with him, and he wouldn’t lie to you, right?

He kneels down in between your legs, groaning as his knees click, a sign of his old age. It should snap you out of this, remind you this isn’t who you are, but it does the opposite. Makes you yearn for him, crave him. He grabs your thighs and thrusts you closer to him so your ass is just barely on the table. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he uses his free hand to gently spread your lips, your pussy shining with arousal in the dim light. Glistening, calling for him, he exhales shakily. “Gotta stay still for me, Baby, okay?”

He dives forward, your soaking cunt spread open for him still, and he places a gentle, chaste kiss on your clit. A simple movement that has you jolting, and him chuckling at your reaction. A low, monotone tune.

“God girl, you’re a nasty little thing, huh?” He doesn’t even give you time to answer before he licks a straight line from your tight hole up to your clit. Your moans have his cock rock hard, painfully stretching against his pants. If he doesn’t get to fuck you, he’ll definitely masturbate to the thought of your moans, the way your cheeks were red and eyes glossed over.

He repeats it a couple of more times, licking stripes up your pussy, purely doing it to wind you up and tease you further, as if you weren’t already a soaking mess for him. He takes pity on you and your whines, leaning forward and wrapping his plump lips around your clit, ravenously devouring your pussy as though he hadn’t eaten for days.

It’s pleasure unlike anything you’ve felt before. So intoxicating and mind numbing, you could live on this feeling. Your hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you moan, your hips subconsciously rocking and grinding into his mouth. “Joel.” You groan, and he only hums in response, noisily lapping up your leaking juices.

He brings his hand down, the one that was spreading your lips, and gently prods his middle finger against your tight hole. He gently pushes it in, despite your slight squirming and whines, holding it still to allow your pussy to get used to this new feeling, to this intruder. Then, he’s slowly thrusting his finger into you, all the while he’s completely devouring your pussy.

The feeling burns slightly, but is quick to wear off as it soon turns to pleasure, his finger hitting a certain spot that makes you see stars, that makes you unaware of how loud you are, how pitiful you sound. You don’t even realise he’s brought his second finger into the mix until the burn returns and you feel yourself being stretched out further.

You cry out, your hand shooting to his wrist. “Stop.” You command, voice wavering. “Too full.” He pulls his head away, chuckling lowly at the command.

“Too full?” He asks, “How do you expect me to fit my cock in your pretty pussy if you won’t even let me put my second finger in?” He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were my good girl, are you not? Look at how wet you are, how well you’re taking my fingers.” He gently pushes his fingers in further as he speaks. You look down, the sight simply sinful. Your tight pussy engulfing his large calloused fingers, your juices all over his fingers and knuckles.

“Slowly.” You demand, gently releasing his wrist, and thankfully, he does. He pushes his fingers in, and you’re full. Fuller than you were before, and you didn’t even know that was possible. To feel so filled up and yet.. good? It’s slow, the way his fingers thrust in and out of you, inching deeper every time. It’s progress when the burning subsides, and you nod at Joel.

“Better.” You confirm, and he doesn’t need to ask twice.

His fingers slowly pick up the pace, his tongue attacking your clit again, your hips grinding against him, desperate for more friction, and you don’t even realise you’re doing it.

The burning in your lower abdomen grows stronger, more apparent. Like you’re building up to something momentum, something life changing. “Joel.” You moan. “Fuck, oh God.” You curse, not caring for the moment who hears you curse, or use Gods name in vain. You’ll pray later.

He pulls his lips away from you, smirking up at you. “Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, but you’re unsure. “Let go, Sweet girl. Show me how you cum all over my fingers. Show me how bad you can do.”

Your mouth drops open as his fingers hit that special spot, eyes seemingly rolling into the back of your head as it washes over you. The best thing you’ve felt in your life, crashing over you again and again. You see white flashes, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. You don’t even realise that you’ve grabbed Joel’s wrist again to keep him in place, your hips rocking back and forth on his fingers.

You’re sweaty, beads of sweat have fallen down your chest, your thighs, and when you come to, you feel filthy, sinful, wrong. Like you’ve just had a piece of you taken. You look down, mouth dropping open as you gently release him from your ironclad grip. “I’m so sorry.” You blubber.

He pulls his fingers out of you, grinning wide at his accomplishment. “Look at that..” He pops his fingers in his mouth, sucking them dry. “Not so innocent, huh? You naughty girl. I heard you curse Gods name.”

“Please don’t mention that to anyone. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry, that shouldn’t of happened.” You plead, the thought of what the community may do to you scares you. You’ve seen what lengths they go to in order to shun someone. “I’ll do anything, just don’t tell them.”

He smirks. “Well, you could do one of two things. You could get on your knees at home and pray to God that he’ll forgive you, although there’s a very low chance of that happening, you sinful little minx.” He chuckles at your sorrowful face. “Or, you can turn around, bend over and let me fuck the sin out of you. I’m sure he’ll forgive you if every drop of sin has been eradicated from your body. Your choice.” He stands, groaning softly as his knees crack again, that reminder of his age causing your pussy to pulse in arousal.

You sigh, wordlessly standing up on wobbly legs. You turn around, gently laying your sweaty body against the table. Your stomach covered in the wetness you’d left behind, the rest of your body being welcomed by the coolness of the wood. “I want him to forgive me.” You squeak.

A feeling of pride in his chest, he smiles. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, and then the rustle of his pants as he pulls his cock from out of his boxers. He holds his hand out infront of you. “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth, spitting it into the palm of his hand. You wonder what he’s going to use your saliva for. “This isn’t going to hurt more than your fingers, is it?” You can hear him stroking himself with your spit, a wet, sloppy sound. You can’t help but wonder what his cock looks like. Is it big? Is it thick? Is it tanned like his sunglowed skin?

“Different for everyone, Angel. Shouldn’t hurt for long if it does.” He says, his free hand adjusting your form slightly. He stands behind you, getting himself into position. “The fact you just came should make it so much easier, and less painful.” He gently pushes the tip of his cock into your tight hole, hissing.

You cry out, the burning sensation stronger than ever as you feel yourself being stretched out around his thick cock. Tears prick your eyes. It’s unpleasant, you feel like you’re being ripped into two, like his cock is going to break you. “Too big.” You cry out again.

He tuts. “You said that about my fingers.” He rolls his eyes. “Too big.” He mocks in a slightly girlish tone. This isn’t the Miller you know. This is someone entirely different. His whole demeanour has changed in a matter of seconds, from the second you bent over for him, he’s far more dominant. “We got my fingers in, didn’t we? Just breathe.” He reaches his freehand down, rubbing your clit in small circles to get you to ease up.

You do as he says, taking deep breaths in through your nose as he continues to stretch your tight hole out around him. It takes what seems like forever before he finally bottoms out, and you hear him sigh. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust before starting to slowly thrust into you.

The burn takes a while to ease off, but when it does and you finally get to embrace the feeling of being truly full up, you’re in shock. You thought two fingers was full, you were wrong.

“This pussy is so fucking tight.” He grunts, his hips slapping against yours as his pace speeds up. “Should’ve fucked you sooner, Pretty girl.” You moan in response, table creaking as he fucks you against it.

“Deeper.” You blurt out. Your body and mouth no longer felt like it belonged to you, it belonged to your lust. Your desperation to cum all over his cock again.

He obliges. “So fucking needy.” He scoffs, but smirks as your moans turn into callings of his name and strings of curses, the tip of his cock nudging that oh so sweet spot you’ve learnt to appreciate in what feels like seconds.

The sounds of skin slapping, moans from you and grunts from him echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and right into your ears, reminding you how your innocence is gone, how you’re no longer pure. How sinful you’ve become, something you’ve lived your entire life avoiding. Something you were taught to never even think about happening, something you were taught to shun others for. And now look at you, what a hypocrite. Bent over a table, being fucked by a man, who despite being very attractive, is decades older than you.

That same feeling is forming in your stomach as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper than before. He’s chasing after his own orgasm too, he can’t help but crumble when it comes to you. You’re just too perfect, and your pussy is his own personal brand of heroin.

It comes abruptly, without any warning, attacks you and your senses. You’re blinded by stars, head dizzy and body feeling heavy.

He gasps, grunting loudly. “Oh, you dirty girl.” He moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and shallow. Your pussy strangles his cock as you pulsate around it, and it pushes him over the edge.

You can feel him spilling his hot cum inside of you, his cock pulsating in response to your pussy pulsating around him. He collapses on you for a minute, his clothed chest against your naked, sweaty back. You stay like this for a while until you clear your throat and he gets up, his dick now soft as it slips out of you, a mixture of your juices trickling down your legs.

He steps back to admire the view. Your ruined pussy, pumped full of his cum, pulsating around nothing. He hums as he tucks himself back into his pants, tutting at the small wet patch near his zipper. “Messy girl.” He mutters.

You gently push yourself up, grimacing at the feeling of the mixture of your juices trickling down your soft, shaky thighs. You bend over slowly, picking your discarded bra up from the floor and putting it back on. “Can I have my underwear back?”

He shakes his head. “They’re mine now, Angel.” He gives you a cheeky grin. You groan and point down to the mess trickling down your legs, and his response to that is to give you an old rag from one of the boxes.

You clean yourself up the best you can with the resources you’re given, but it’s not enough. He’s pumped you full of his cum and it’s still trickling out. You just decide you’re going to have to pray for the best. You pick up your once pristine white dress, now crumpled and dirty from the floor. You pour, seeing as it was picture perfect only this morning. You sigh, placing it over your head.

“Now, come on. We’ve got a church to decorate.” He winks at you, grabbing a box of decorations and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and feelings.

————————————————————————

Tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

A/N: sorry but i think it’s absolutely ironic that I’m posting this on the day i’m actually going to church (christening).

#joel #joel miller #miller #reader insert #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel should not be a priest #joel is twisted #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #tw religion #tw dubcon #tw blackmail #tw virginity loss #xanqels #smut #fanfic #tw age gap #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #hbo tlou #religious themes #catholicism #i posted this on my way to church lol

[tookthe-405]

VBS

Prologue :

“Sun bleached Flies” ~ Ethel cain

DAILY CLICK🍉🍉

DONATIONS AND INFOS🇵🇸

rebel!ellie x fem!reader

PLAYLIST

summary: you grew up religious without a choice, and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

c/w: smut in future chapters!!! , religious trauma, homophobia

1,1 k words

24/11/2004

Age 16 Reader pov:

"And as the Bible says in Micah 7:7: But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my savior, my God will hear me"

Your eyes burn, not because you are crying, but because of the very bright spotlights that are shining on Pastor Tobias. The youth lesson takes place every Wednesday evening and today's topic is faith and trust.

The paper and pen in your hand feels heavy and rough, you should have already written down what you’ve learned new, but your head is just so empty today.

As it has been so often in the last few weeks, which makes you feel guilty and ashamed again. You stare at the blank page and don't feel anything, that you could put into words and on paper. You can think of many questions that you would like to ask, but are too embarrassed for.

"hey is everything ok?"

your head follows the whispers next to you. Hazel looks at you worried. This girl is the only reason you enjoy being here, and there is no judgment in her look.

“I’m a bit stuck on this today” you whisper back and point at the empty paper, she nods.

you could feel the eyes of the employes. When sermons are held it is always very quiet and all these people you grew up with are listening to the man in front of you, the faintest whispers can be heard. You quickly concentrate again and look ahead.

"We're closing the sermon today with a prayer and the requests that you gave us"

On the board next to him are various prayer requests that the young people brought to the lesson. But a few of them catch your eye more than the others.

- Please release me from the shame within me - Let me grow with your word - The temptations of the evil one shall not harm me

The prayer lasts 7 minutes and your mind keeps wandering. When you pray, you always forget where you are and feel a bit stuck in your head. That's why you've given up the habit of closing your eyes, which helps you to ease the restlessness in which your inner self is bursting. You can't get rid of it at anyway. You observe the people around you a bit. You know every face all too well, the reason for that includes going to a the private Christian school and the many prayer evenings that your parents and siblings like to attend to.

When praying, each face shows a small part of the person. Some look deep in thought, others look as if they were about to burst into tears at any second and one or the other sit on their seats with a contented and calm expression on their faces. You would give a lot to feel whatever they are feeling.

Hazel's expression reminds you of a frightened animal that has just been captured. She was one of the fearful prayers.

All you wanna do, is try to get her out of this state and keep her safe with you, but you know that you can't do that for her. Only the god she prays to can do that.

"Amen"

“Amen” everyone says together and the word leaves your lips quietly.

Everyone stands up from their seats and whispers spread. You know all these people and you knew from your private life that some of them weren't good people, but the church seemed to change that completely. At least for a short time. As soon as the free time begins, you notice that the facades are falling again. This has always confused you a bit.

Two years ago, so many people were converted here, that the church was rebuilt and there were now many different rooms for different concerns. There was the sermon Hall, which is full every Sunday and is used for worship services. There is also a kitchen and dining room with couches. One floor higher was the room for the young people, which is used every Wednesday to pray, study and spend time together. A few couches and many chairs with tables.

The whole youth group is there and a few people start to play games. Some have a religious background, some don't.

After the sermon, you and Hazel go from the sermon hall to the youth room, where a few people from your class have already made themselves comfortable on the couch and seats. At school you always talk to Hazel, who is a very social person and that's why you are forced to talk to other people as well.

Samuel and another boy are talking as you both sit down on chairs, and the whole group seems interested in the conversation.

"My mother said that, Pastor Tobias told her on Sunday"

"What's going on?" Hazel's gentle voice asks Samuel.

He excitedly turns away from the other boy and addresses Hazel.

"My mother said that we were going to a camp this summer, we young people, there was a lake, forest, church, everything"

“Do we have to camp?” Asks Kate, a girl in a class below you.

The thought of having to go camping immediately puts you off, but you'd have to go anyway if it actually takes place.

After all, Samuel talks a lot but it doesn't always reflect reality.

"She said there is a youth hostel with lots of rooms, but they are shared."

You could live with that. Hazel nudges you with a smile. Now the excitement hits you too, if you and Hazel are in the same room together, swimming in the lake all day long and there were going to be funny events, it will definitely be pretty fun.

You smile back excitedly and the other people around you seem to be looking forward to it too.

“Have you heard of Anne Marie’s husband?”

The group becomes quiet and looks at Sofia, with a thoughtful look and crossed arms.

"A few people from church mentioned something but I don't think it's true," Naveah says next to her and rolls her eyes, but Sofia shakes her head confidently and leans forward.

“My brother said it was true, he was there at the prayer meeting for him” Naveah’s face falls and that made you a little nervous.

"what?" ask someone, but you won't know who.

"They prayed that his homosexual desires would disappear"

The room generally seems to become a little quieter; the other groups of friends also seemed to have heard the word, which had probably never been uttered here before.

The tense atmosphere spreads through the room like poison and you hold your breath.

" I didn`t knew he had such disgusting thoughts"

you are too shocked to notice who said it, but you still clearly hear the others agree.

“The sin is disgusting, but we should pray for him,”

Austin decides, but his gaze seems a little concernt.

After the prayer you feel emptier than before, almost as if you had been sucked dry. Your thoughts left more marks and you knew what you would pray for tonight before you went to sleep.

INTERACT WITH THE LINKS ABOUT PALESTINE 🇵🇸

a/n: this is a bit more angsty and can trigger some people so pls read the warnings!! I felt a bit uncomfortable too writing it, but it’s still important to talk and write about it, because it is reality!!!

!!!Pls Reblog and like!!!

#ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #fem!reader #femme reader #fem reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie the las of us part two #the last of us fandom #the last of us fanfiction #ellie the last of us #the last of us #the last of us 2 #religious trauma #angst #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x you

[bloodandthestars]

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒.

priest!au suguru geto x fem!reader

tw/tags: mentions of the Bible, Christianity (it is solely picked for plot nothing more, nothing less), etc :: introduction to JUDAS, kinktober drabble series (mdni)

wc: 1.3k :: masterlist. :: next part.

The Geto family was a devout and honorable one. Generations upon generations did the men of the house dedicate their lives to reach the word of the Heavenly Father. Suguru’s route was no different— crooked, but narrow on the holy path.

He’d become the father of the church months ago, to herd the congregation into a fruitful community. Pressure weighed heavy at his shoulders, but in the end, he knew it was for the best. Wasn’t it?

“And while we are tempted by the devil in more ways than one.” His smooth voice went on. “It’s the persistence, the strength, and the true power of the Lord’s light that keeps us on the divine path.”

Suguru takes a glance to his notes, a finger moving from one page to the next. “As Peter 5:10 states: And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

It earns him a few hums in agreement and ‘Amens’ from the crowd. He takes a breath. “So know that the obstacles in your path now, the ones you pray to be vanquished, may be the key to your own glory. For your glory, is His.”

The crowd rumbles in cheers and claps. Suguru gives the room a smile. With a slow glance around the room, he takes in all their excited faces full of hope to hear the Holy word through him. It was these same old faces he had gotten used to seeing in the worn pews of the church. The same ones he’d run around with his best friend as a child when services were over. Everything remained as it was, as it was suppose to be.

So that’s why his breath unconsciously hitched when meeting your gaze.

Your eyes were new. He’s never seen them cry in the name of repentance, never seen them look at him like he was the Messiah himself. Not even now in the mists of a worshiping crowd. Your expression was poise, calm— orbs slender in observation.

You cut the staring short, looking ahead instead. It’s only then when he can hear the clapping back at full volume. Suguru blinks a few times to return, eyes going down to the timeline in his writings. “And with that, we’ll end today’s service with a prayer.”

The congregation bows their heads in unison. He catches how you were much slower in doing so. Keeping his eyes on you cautiously, he speaks a worthy word to his people. “O’ Might One, we thank you for allowing us to celebrate you on this day. Your spirit is poured out onto this place every Sunday morning and we could ask for nothing more...”

With the service finished, church goers socialize amongst one another. Greetings, catchings of last night’s game, news that the youngest born has ridden a bicycle for the first time. Suguru always had an ear to their happenings, not that he had much of a choice. As soon as his dress shoes hit the carpet floor, he’s instantly surrounded by a group of parishioners. As always, they wanted to make their priest happy and see him smile.

A older woman clasps his hand in hers, squeezing it with a pleasant expression. “An excellent sermon, as always Father Geto!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kasaki-”

“Did I tell you about little Callie’s recital?”

He chuckles. “Yes, last week. She had practice then, correct?”

“Oh yes! It was a dress rehearsal, her big debut was this last Saturday. She was so adorable in her purple tutu! And she only picked that because she’s growing out of that pink phase, little thing. Oh! Let me grab my phone-”

A low quality video later, one handshake leaves for another. “Pastor! Did you see the new restaurant down the street that they’re building up?”

“No? I don’t think I have.”

“Oh yeah, I think it’ll be a new fusion place. Never knew that they had stuff like that!” A hearty laugh comes straight from the man’s belly and Suguru’s obliged to laugh as well.

“We’ll have to see if we can get the church together for its opening.”

“I’ll see if I can put a word in.”

“There you go, Pastor!”

And another. “Father, did you ever get the chance to look at my inquiries on raising funds for the elementary school?”

“The box tops, yes?”

“Mhm! When will you get started?”

“We can have something up by Wednesday.”

Another. “Father Geto! I just have to get your opinion on this recipe for the potluck-”

Another. “Give your parents a big hug for me won’t you! It’s been so long since I’ve seen them-”

And another. “And this is little Devon! He’ll be staying with me for the summer and he’s already enjoying the kids church service-”

Hands come and go within his grasp as he speaks with each one of them as they trail out. His father told him it was a way to build trust and community, and who was he to argue with the face of the church?

As he wishes one of the elderly women goodbye, Suguru keeps a watchful eye on her when she goes down the stairs. He turns back, starting a little when he’s met with your presence incoming. His body straightens up and you stand in front of him. “Father Geto?”

“That it is.”

Your hand extends in his direction. “Beautiful service. You have many who think the same.”

His eyes lower to your hand, glancing up to you when he takes it. The larger one warms your grasp. He lets out a soft breath. “I appreciate the flattery.”

You raise a brow at him. “Can’t be flattery, after all, your admirers would disagree too.”

Your words earn another exhale, this time with a faint laugh behind it. His slender eyes keep to yours, can’t finding himself to look away. Curiosity eats at him to ask. “If you don’t mind my asking, but are you new in town?”

“I am.” You answer politely. “My mother grew up here, wanted me to see her roots.”

“I’ll be the one to tell you that her roots were made in quite a small place.”

You chuckle softly. “Oh I’m quite aware. Still, it was one of the things she wanted us to do together before she passed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

He watches you glance down at each other’s hands. Seeing that they’re still connected, the pastor pulls it away— hoping you wouldn’t notice how quick he did it. His eyes were lowered, so they had no choice but to follow upward. That meant scanning over your body and attire— a turtleneck dress and high boots with stockings. He straightens when his eyes reach your face. “And you are?”

You give him your full name, and he repeats it back to you. “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.” You repeat.

Eventually, you head to the church doors. He follows behind as you were the last to leave. You turn back to give a final glance and him a final goodbye. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Father.”

“Likewise. I hope you to see your return to the church soon.”

“Perhaps.”

Your gazes never leave each other when he goes to shut the doors. The wooden beings echo with their closed status, knocking the air back into his lungs. His brows furrow. Why did he take notice to your clothing?

You dress nice, that’s all. The father shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he goes to tidy the pews.

#writing #priest!geto #priest!suguru #geto suguru #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #priest au #a #getou suguru x reader

[ryndicate]

Eren x female reader

warnings: 18+mdni, priest au, bit of eremika, sacrilege, jealousy, manipulation, voyeurism, angst-ish, birthday drabble birthday drabble~

“Let us pray.” 

Those simple words are usually followed by everyone bowing their heads and closing their eyes, but like always you stare straight ahead, using this moment freely with no one’s prying gaze. You trail your eyes over the man leading the procession like it’s your own ode to prayer.

Long brown hair tied back over a sinfully handsome face, Father Eren doesn’t close his eyes during prayer. You wonder if anyone else realizes this. Most often he stares at the ground, other times his eyes sweep over the pews. When he does glance out, your heart always pounds, lost in a desperate hope that you’ll find him searching you out. He never does but you can’t let go the possibility.

Through all your time watching, you can’t help but notice there is someone he does seek out, and it aches. The perfect example of a good follower, a good person, always lending a helping hand, a heartfelt prayer, all of her attention to every sermon. You wish you could be like her, and you’ve tried...

But you’re not like Mikasa. You can try, but you’re not, with her cute short haircut and perfect body and that glow in her eyes when she looks at Father Eren that you couldn’t copy if you dedicated your whole life to it like he has to God. It’s like she sees more when she looks at him, more than you ever could. Maybe that’s what he likes about her...maybe that’s what sets you and her apart. 

A chorus of hushed ‘amens’ breaks you from your thoughts. You blink and realize everyone’s heads have risen once more, and choir has filed up to the front, beginning to sing, voices carrying to the ceiling and the heavens beyond, signaling the end of the service.

Father Eren’s already moved to the back doors, giving goodbyes to those who usually leave as soon as the sermon ends. The rest of the churchgoers are striking up conversations with each other, sharing news about their week, exchanging stilted ‘how are you’s’ and ‘I’m fine’s’ to keep up their appearances.

You usually find yourself one of these, mingling with the crowd as an excuse to lay your eyes on Eren for a few minutes longer each Sunday. It’s how you came to notice a pattern. After most of the parishioners have finally dwindled, conversations exhausted, the end of the unspoken competition to be the one who stayed longest at an end, as if that in itself were a representation of faith, Mikasa always approaches Eren to thank him for his sermon.

And Father Eren always offers to pray with her in his office, though they rarely go there. 

With few left to pay them mind the two withdraw to the back rooms of the church, and like every Sunday, you can’t stop yourself from following.

The halls behind the main sanctuary are mostly shadows split by sunlight beaming in through the high windows. You pause outside the warmth, slipping into the cool darkness to remain hidden as you peek around the corner to where the emergency exit is. Its green glow is all that can be clearly seen, which is why you’re certain this is their favorite spot to disappear to.

You can make out their figures in the dark, taller pressing the smaller against the wall as the wet sound of lips meeting graces your ears. Instead of risking being seen snooping, you duck back around the corner and simply listen.

“Are you having impure thoughts again?” His voice is a low rumble, and you love to imagine he’s speaking right into your ear, his body pressing into yours.

“I’m sorry, Father.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Lift your skirt.”

You strain your ears, resisting the urge to peek again. After a few moments you pick up a familiar wet sound, followed by Mikasa’s soft, bitten moans.

“That’s it, does that feel good?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Forgiveness is meant to be a relief,” Eren says softly, his voice tight. “—to those to ask for it, I don’t hear you asking for it.”

“Forgive me, father,” Mikasa chokes on a whimper and your hands inch towards your own waistline, aching for relief.

“Good girl, move your hips down- there you go.”

“Forgive me—”

“Keep going Mika,” Eren groans. Mika. You hate how much you can hear in his nickname for her. It sends flames of envy and hurt across your body, but you still can’t tear yourself away from listening. It’s easy to imagine him in his dark robes, the cross of his necklace hanging between them as he’s bent over Mikasa’s shaking form, pretending it’s not her. “I won’t stop until I’ve soaked up every impurity. Give your heart over, good girl.”

Your body is hot all over, desperately wishing Eren was touching you instead of her. You would sell your soul just for the chance of it, you’re certain. Maybe then Father Eren would take pity on you, the poor girl without a soul to send to heaven.

You close your eyes and breathe deep, rubbing over your panties, easily soaked through and sticking to your folds, wishing you were brave, or less prideful, enough to really touch yourself to the sounds of them together. They sound so caught up in each other, but the deep desire to be a part of it is too much to overlook. You’ll be able to relieve yourself at home in the dark of your room, where you’ll be able to forget about Mikasa’s moans of pleasure.

The sound of the doors opening down their hallway jerks you from your own mind, and your eyes widen as you pull your hand from your waistline, ready to flee, only to find yourself face to face with Father Eren, who for a moment looks just as shocked to see you. But as he reads the guilt and embarrassment of your features, his expression slowly changes.

His eyes seem flat and cold as he stares you down. You would breathe if you thought it was allowed, standing in pure stillness as you wait for him to speak.

“A soul that covets is a soul that dies.”

Is that a warning? Is he telling you there’s nothing for you with him? Your heart quivers under the strain of not shattering. Of course he sees right through you. He wouldn’t be a man of the Word, of the truth, if he couldn’t see your pathetic desire for him. Before your mind spirals off, Eren releases a sigh so soft that you almost think he whispered something.

You look up hopefully; his eyes are warmer, brighter, his shimmering greens and grays studying your face like he’s never truly seen you before. There are thoughts swirling in his eyes that make you wish you knew him better, to understand them without him having to say a word.

You’re elated.

“As one of my sheep, it’s my duty to lead you away from harm. Come to my office after service next week, and I'll help rid you of your sin."

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #eren smut #aot smut #snk x reader #snk smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut

[hiswordsarekisses]

“In the upshot there is only one answer for the preacher who wonders whether he is worthy to preach the sermon he has composed, or for the writer who wonders whether he is worthy to write the religious book he is working on.

The answer is:

“of course not.”

To ask yourself: am I worthy to perform this Christian task? Is really the peak of pride and presumption.

For the very question carries the implication that we spend most of our time doing things we are worthy to do.

We simply do not have that kind of worth."

All ministry - whether teaching a children’s Sunday school class, witnessing to inmates at the local prison, or preaching to thousands of people each Sunday - performed by the grace of God by people who are unworthy to be doing it.

Paul freely acknowledged that he received his apostleship purely as a result of God’s undeserved favor. God used Paul’s testimony to encourage me at a time when I most keenly felt my complete unworthiness to write on the subject of personal holiness.b

In Romans 12:6, Paul described us as "having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us." He was referring to spiritual gifts enabling believers to fulfill God-appointed ministry or service in the body of Christ.

But note that Paul said these spiritual gifts are given according to God’s grace, not according to what we deserve.

The Greek word for a spiritual gift is charisma, which means "a gift of God’s grace," whether it is the gift of eternal life as in Romans 6:23 or the gift of a spiritual ability for use in the body.” ~ Jerry Bridges

To me, though I am the very least of all the saints . . . grace was given. Ephesians 3:8

“We can all make the mistake of trusting in hard work, physical appearance, finances - our own talents... But all those sources of security and pride can be gone in an instant. We must keep our eyes on the Lord and trust in Him as our Rock and high tower. Lord, when we put our security in a fortress of our own making, bring us back to the shelter of God Most High. Amen. Blessed is the man or woman who boasts in the Lord’s strength.” ~ Leroy Eims

[renee-writer]

A pastor transformed himself into a homeless person and went to the church that he was to be introduced as the head pastor at that morning. He walked around his soon to be church for 30 minutes while it was filling with people for service. Only 3 people said hello to him, most looked the other way. He asked people for change to buy food because he was hungry. Not one gave him anything.

He went into the sanctuary to sit down in the front of the church and was told by the ushers that he would need to get up and go sit n the back of the church. He said hello to people as they walked in but was greeted with cold stares and dirty looks from people looking down on him and judging him.

He sat in the back of the church and listened to the church announcements for the week. He listened as new visitors were welcomed into the church that morning but no one acknowledged that he was new. He watched people around him continue to look his way with stares that said you are not welcome here.

Then the elders of the church went to the podium to make the announcement. They said they were excited to introduce the new pastor of the church to the congregation. "We would like to introduce you to our new Pastor." The congregation stood up and looked around clapping with joy and anticipation. The homeless man sitting in the back stood up and started walking down the aisle.

That's when all the clapping stopped and the church was silent. With all eyes on him....he walked up the altar and reached for the microphone. He stood there for a moment and then recited so elegantly, a verse from the bible.....

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for the least of my brothers and sisters, you did for me.’

After he recited this, he introduced himself as their new pastor and told the congregation what he had experienced that morning. Many began to cry and bow their heads in shame. "Today I see a gathering of people here but I do not see a church of Jesus. The world has enough people that look the other way. What the world needs is disciples of Jesus that can follow this teachings and live as he did. When will YOU decide to become disciples?

He then dismissed service until the following Sunday as his sermon had been given. Amen

#from facebook #if we are the Body #something to think about

[oniifans]

Confessions of a Sinner: Priest! Eren Yeager x Female Reader

Summary: You are a sinner. And you've tried to confess your sins, but many times you failed. Today was the day you confess your sins to Father Eren Yeager. But what will Father Eren do when he realizes that he's listening to your confessions about him?

Kinks Include: Toxic Eren Yeager, Top Eren Yeager, Priest! Eren Yeager, Eren Yeager has a manbun, Eren Yeager has long hair, oral sex, face-sitting, slight cunnilingus, confessions, confessional, dubious consent, humiliation, verbal humiliation, degradation, panty kink.

Inspired by: AnnLuVazzel on twitter - Her fanarts of Priest Eren Yeager is *chef's kiss* please check her out. ♥ Thank you. ♥

Disclaimer: I have 0 intentions to offend any religions, faiths, beliefs, and dogmas. I respect all religions and their believers. This is pure fiction, and it has no base on reality of what the church does and think. This is my own interpretation of religious guilt, sins, confessions, prayers, and blasphemy. Since this is a mature and explicit fan-fiction, I trust you, as the reader, can separate fan fiction from reality. Thank you.

You never liked going to church. Not on Fridays or Sundays. But it wasn’t because of the church that you didn’t like to go. It’s not the people that were bent in the pews, quietly whispering their prayers to their God. It wasn’t because of the stupid modest clothes you had to wear due to the strict scriptures you were suppose to follow. 

No. 

Not any of that. 

The main reason why you didn’t like going to church…was because of Him. 

That priest. 

You sat quietly in the pews, your fingers tracing over the words of the picked scripture for today’s mass. You shifted in your seat, pulling down your skirt before your eyes glanced up to him. 

There he was, standing at the altar as his hands were clasped together for a prayer. 

Father Eren Yeager. 

No one really knew how he joined the church. How he became the Father of this holy place. Everyone was curious to know, except you. 

You had your own curiosities. You had a feeling that there was something in between you two. But you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

Was it God? Was it taboo? Sin? 

When he would talk about sin, his emerald green eyes were pinned to you, as if he knew about your sins. Anytime you meet his gaze, you sit up straighter, your hands on your knees while he continues to speak before moving his gaze back to his scripture. 

What’s funny is that…you are a sinner. 

After mass, you had the burning urge to go up to him and talk. Talk about what? The service? How good was it? 

No. 

You wanted to go and confess your sins to him. Sit in that confession box and tell him everything. You were so close the last few times to do it, but you left shortly after Mass. Your confidence deflated the minute he finished his prayer, and you were out the double doors. 

You always had that voice in your head when you were walking back to your home. 

“You want to be clean, don’t you?” 

Was it even your voice? 

Or Father’s? 

Your mind snapped back to church as you noticed everyone standing up for prayer. You got up to your feet, bowing your head and clasping your hands together. 

“Remember, Lord, your creature,

whom you redeemed by your Blood.

I am repentant of my sins,

I desire to put right what I have done.” 

You clench your jaw, your heart racing as you glance up. Your heart froze as his gaze met with yours. 

“Take from me, therefore, most merciful Father,

all my iniquities and sins,

so that, purified in mind and body,

I may worthily taste the Holy of Holies.” 

Fuck. You swallow nervously, his gaze never leaving yours before he looks down and closes his eyes.

“May the almighty and merciful Lord

grant us joy with peace,

amendment of life,

room for true repentance,

the grace and consolation of the Holy Spirit

and perseverance in good works.

Amen.” 

You could feel your heart race again before your legs finally bent and you sat back down. Why were you getting all hot and bothered? It wasn’t because he was looking at you, right? 

Your fingers fumbled to touch the rosary around your neck, gripping at the cross as Father Eren started to talk about announcements and events that were happening at the church. 

Your eyes fell down to the bible. 

You need to tell him today. You couldn’t focus at church, not while he’s talking. Your mind would wander back to when you were alone in your room, one hand touching yourself and the other covering your mouth. No matter how muffled and how quiet you were, you would still moan out his name. 

Eren. 

Father Eren.  

Over and over again. 

You knew that it was wrong, but you continued like the filthy sinner you were. You want to be pure in the eyes of Father Eren. You would do anything. 

You were going to do it. Today. 

“And that’s all for announcements. Please, have a lovely afternoon today. May peace be with you all.” Father Eren said as he closed his bible and nodded at the congregation to be dismissed. 

He stood at the altar, shifting his notes and bible as everyone started to file out and leave. You closed the bible and set it on the pew. You slowly rose to your feet and shifted out from the pew. 

Some of the men met with Father and spoke briefly. Firm handshakes and soft chuckles echoed in the church, along with whispered conversations. You carefully moved out of people’s way as you made your way towards the altar. 

Was Father Eren always this friendly? His long black hair was pulled into a loose bun, strands of his hair framing his face while his emerald gaze was gentle, yet firm as he spoke with the members of the church. He wore the green chasubles, along with a brown rosary around his neck and his hands occupied with the bible. 

“I see that the Lord has kept you well, Father.” You say as your feet meet at the altar. Father Eren turned to look at you, a light smile pulling at his lips, “And same with you, YN. How was the service?” He asked. 

“It was wonderful as always. I wanted to speak with you privately, if you have the time.” You say. 

Father Eren nodded quietly, “Absolutely. Please, if you could wait here at the very front pew while I go and change, I’ll be with you shortly.” 

You nodded, walking over to the front pew and taking a seat. You watched as he disappeared behind one of the doors on the left side of the altar. You left out a shaky breath and looked around. You were alone. 

This was it. You were going to confess your sins to him. No more hiding. No more running away. This was it. 

“My apologies if you had to wait so long,” Father Eren said as he walked out of the door, closing it behind him, “getting out of these large uniforms has its difficulties.” 

He was wearing the common black clergy uniform with the collar, the brown rosary now around his hands as he approached you. “What did you want to speak about?” He asked. 

You rose to your feet, your heart beating out of your chest. “I wanted to confess my sins. I wanted to speak with you privately about it, because it is a bit longer than a short session.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?” He glanced at the confession box before coming back to you, “We can today, right now if you’d like. I do have time.” 

“Really? Oh, thank you Father. I’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time, but I always would leave and hide.” You say embarrassed, “but I don’t want to run away anymore.” 

Father Eren stared at you for a moment before reaching over to cup your cheek gently, turning your head so you were looking up at him. “As it says in the bible, YN, If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” His thumb grazed over your lower lip, “you should never run away and hide from your shame. It takes a strong person to come clean and be pure once again.” 

You nearly melted as he pulled his hand away and readjusted his collar. He had no idea what he was in for. “So, shall we?” He says, motioning his head towards the box. 

———————

Father Eren opened the wooden door as you stepped inside. You quietly sat as he closed the door and made his way to his side, taking a seat. 

You grew sweaty. You were afraid, but you knew you had to take the chance to talk to him. Confess. 

“You may begin when you want to, YN.” Father Eren says. 

You made a sign of the cross over your chest before drawing in a shaky breath. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.” You say softly. 

You grit your teeth, your hands gripping the hem of your skirt. 

“Take your time, YN. No need to rush.” Father Eren says.

Your cheeks grow warm as you shamelessly start to remember. 

“I…I am nothing but a pervert,” You clear your throat, “every Sunday I have impure thoughts of Father Eren. I…I cannot say-!” 

“Go on.” 

His voice grew husky, tone dripping in honey. You couldn’t hear him, but his breathing picked up just a bit. 

“I…F-Father Eren, it's embarrassing to say.” 

“Do you want to be free of your shameful sins? Confess.” 

You swallow your spit before glancing down at your feet. “I…I touch myself to lustful thoughts of Father Eren. During his sermons, I would think about how his lips would feel on mine, how his hands would wrap around my body. I would dream of the times of when we would have sex. When he would look at me, my body burns with passion and desire. In between my legs, I..I am always aching and wet with need. I am constantly turned on with him looking at me, and I can’t get this urge out of my head.” 

Your body was hot, your thighs closing together tightly as heat pooled in between your legs. You can’t think about this now. This was so wildly inappropriate. 

“Is that all?” 

Your lips trembled before you nodded quietly, “I-I’m sorry for these and all of my sins.” 

Silence. It grew, along with tension as you stared at the small window. “Father Eren?” You ask, still wondering if he was still there. 

Silence. 

Your hands shot up to cover your face. You knew doing this was going to end up awkward. God, you couldn’t face him again. You just told him everything. 

Suddenly, the door was ripped open as Father Eren stared down at you. His eyes were cold, body tense as his nostrils flared angrily. 

Did you really upset him? 

You grew fearful before his lips parted to speak. “Your sins are forgiven by our Lord. However, I am offering you a penance. A penance that’ll purge your sins completely. Please, meet me at my office.” He said in that same husky tone. 

Penance? What? 

You nod, getting to your feet as you walk out of the confessional. He followed behind you as you made your way down the side of the pews and towards the door. 

You could feel his eyes on you. Your mind wandered as you pushed open the door. What the hell was he going to do? Yell at you? Scold you and do fifty Hail Marys in front of him? 

You stood in his office, eyes pinned to his desk as Father Eren closed the door behind you, quietly locking it. 

Silence filled the room as he passed you, moving to the back of his desk. He set his rosary beads on top of some paperwork. His hands rested on top of his office chair, while his eyes were looking at you. 

“How long were you having these thoughts, YN?” He asked. 

You couldn’t meet his gaze. 

“Look at me.” He commanded. 

Your eyes shot to him. “For a while now.” You whisper. 

“Show me.” 

Your eyes widened. “What?” You ask. 

“Show me your pussy. I want to see that aching need of yours.” He hissed, now walking around to the front of the desk, sitting at the edge of it. His arms were crossed while he stared you down. 

Your face flushed before you slowly reached your hands down to the edge of your skirt and pulled it up. 

You shuddered as you felt the cool air on your exposed inner thighs. Your body burned with shame as you looked away. Eren scoffed as he pushed himself off of the desk and walked over to you. 

“How quaint. Even your flesh lies. You confess your sins, and yet,” He let out a harsh chuckle, eyes burning down your body while one hand reached down to touch your clothed core, “here you are, wet and aching with need.” 

You gasp, freezing as you look down to see his hand in between your legs. 

“You think you deserve this? Deserve my attention? My touch?” He asks, his lips pressing up your ear, “do you want my solution to your aching problem?” 

You didn’t answer right away. 

Father Eren didn’t like that. 

He moved his hand away from your panties and grabbed your arm. He dragged you with him towards the large standing mirror he had next to his closet. 

Angrily, he yanked up your blouse, exposing your breasts and hiding your rosary. You didn’t have the heart to look at yourself in the mirror, shame burning your cheeks before his other hand pulled down your panties. Your panties pooled around your feet before you stepped out of them. 

There you were: an exposed sinner in the holy hands of Father Eren. 

His gaze was intimidating as he stared down your body once more. “Look at you, YN. Look at yourself.” He commanded. 

Your eyes stared at your reflection. One hand gripped at your breast, your nipple hard as his thumb and index fingertip rubbed slowly while the other hand traveled down to graze over your outer lips. 

Your body sags against his, little whines and whimpers escaping your lips. “See? Even me touching you, confessing your sins isn’t enough. You’re still impure.” He hissed, his lips pressed against your neck as he nibbled on your flesh. 

You gasp, his tongue running over your skin as he makes a small mark on your skin. Your eyes shoot to him in the mirror, “What did you do to me?” You ask, panting. 

“Marking an impure woman. Just to make sure that everyone can see that to avoid you.” He replies. His hands continue to fondle you, while he still stares at you. 

“You will listen to my words,” He began as his hands started to pull away, fixing your clothes, “I have one solution to get rid of these impure desires, YN. But once I do this, I never want to see you again. Not in my church. Understood?” 

You frowned, nodding slowly. 

“Good.” 

It hurt to hear those words. But you didn’t want to cause any problems with Father Eren. Besides, he was doing this to keep you pure. That’s all that mattered, right? 

You watch as he moves from the mirror and starts to stack the two chairs. He set them towards the wall, now a large space on the floor. 

He crouched down at first before laying flat on the floor. He motioned with his two fingers. “Come to me, YN.” He said. 

You obeyed his words, quietly walking to him before you were now standing in front of him. 

“Lift your skirt for me.” 

You bit your lower lip before your hands slowly reached down to lift your skirt, exposing your wet cunt once more. 

“Sit on me.” 

Your chest rose and fell. “Father Eren. Are you sure…that it’s okay?” You ask, your eyes glossing over with that familiar lust. 

“I will drink away all of your sin. If you want to be pure again, you will allow me to do this. You want to be clean, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow curiously. 

“Yes, Father.” 

“Good. Now sit.” 

You moved yourself so you were directly above his face. You hesitated for a moment before you saw his eyes flash with a warning. 

You sunk to your knees, your pussy directly on his face. Both of his hands shot up to hold your hips. 

His lips parted as his tongue snuck out to lick at your outer pussy lips. You trembled as he held you still while his mouth worked on you. Your mouth was opened with soft gasps, a small bead of sweat forming on the side of your face. 

Little muffled pleased hums escaped him as his eyes closed. You noticed how gentle he was. And yet, he was slowly unwrapping you, lick by lick. 

His tongue spread your lips before moving up towards your peeking clit. 

You let out a soft moan before his mouth pulled away immediately, “Close your mouth. You’re still in church.” He warned before he went back to assaulting your clit. 

Your hand shot to cover your mouth, eyes rolling back as his mouth was fully enveloped on your cunt. He continued to move his mouth, drinking your sweet nectar.

Your muffled moans only made him go faster. But you needed more. Friction.

He grunted as you started to move your hips shallowly against his face. He moved to suck on your clit ruthlessly, eyes pinned as your head rolled back. Lewd, wet sucking noises filled your ears, making your tummy burn.

You were going to cum. 

You wanted to stop, that guilt suddenly weighing back before your eyes fell to Father Eren. His tongue laid flat right on your leaking pussy before he started to move his head back and forth quickly. 

The feeling of his tongue was too much. He knew what he was doing. 

“Do it…give me everything…break for me.” Father Eren said in between his licks. 

Your body shook and spasmed as you came. The guilt disappeared as he drank, his eyes closed tightly. His forehead glistened with sweat, his face burned pink. 

He slowly pulled his mouth away, the tip of tongue sticking with a long string of mixed fluids before he lapped it up. He moved his hands to grip yours as you got to your feet. 

Your chest rose and fell, instinctively taking a few steps back as Father Eren got to his feet. He readjusted his rosary, fixing up his hair before he walked over to the mirror. He cleared his throat before he rolled up his sleeves. 

Your mouth dropped to see that his arms were covered in different tattoos. He glanced down to see your panties as he leaned over to pluck them from the floor. 

“Father Eren, what are those? How long have you been hiding them?” You ask, alarmed at the sight. 

“That is none of your concern. Now leave.” Father Eren said coldly, looking over at your panties before his fingers rubbed over your middle stripe, scoffing as it was still wet. 

“But the Church will find out if-!” 

“The Church won’t find out about me. And if you say a word, how would you feel if the entire congregation knew about what we just did? No one would believe a single word,” His gaze fell to you, “would they believe that the priest would actually do such lewd acts with a whore?” He took a step to you, “a whore who confessed such lusts about me?” 

He backed you up against the door, your eyes pricked with tears. His fingers found the lock to the door and quietly unlocked it. 

“I already said what you need to do,” he leaned against your ear, “now get the hell out of my church.” 

You shoved him off of you and stormed out of his office. Your face burned with humiliation as you wiped tears from your eyes. 

Father Eren stared as you left before he closed the door. His hand that held your panties moved to his nose. He inhaled the thick, sweet scent as his other hand moved to grab and rub his stiff cock hidden in his black clergy uniform. 

“Father forgive me for my sins,” Father Eren whispers, his eyes glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, “for I have only just begun them.” 

#attack on titan #eren aot #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren smut #eren toxic #eren yeager #snk eren #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin

[yr-obedt-cicero]

A recording of Hamilton's days following the duel

July 8th, 1804

Sunday morning, Hamilton walked with Eliza “over all the pleasant scenes” of the Grange estate, and returned home at noon. He read the morning service of the Episcopal church. The hours until evening were spent “in kind companionship” with his family. And at the end of the day, Hamilton gathered his children around him under a near tree, he laid with them upon the grass until it turned dark. [x] According to Alexander Hamilton Jr. in an interview; “Col. Smith, son in-law of John Adams, had dined with us, and the result of a conversation on the subject was a tacit agreement on my father's part not to fight.” [x]

July 9th, 1804

Monday morning, Hamilton left Eliza at the Grange and rode down to lower Manhattan, to his town house at 54 Cedar Street with his four eldest sons. After taking care of his urgent clients and affairs, he drafted his will.

Source — Library of Congress, Digital Collections. Alexander Hamilton Papers: Miscellany, 1711-1820; Hamilton, Alexander; Last will and testament

In the Name of God Amen! I Alexander Hamilton of the City of New York Counsellor at Law do make this my last Will and Testament as follows. First I appoint John B Church Nicholas Fish and Nathaniel Pendleton of the City aforesaid Esquires to be Executors and Trustees of this my Will and I devise to them their heirs and Assigns, as joint Tenants and not as Tenants in common, All my Estate real and personal whatsoever and wheresoever upon Trust at their discretion to sell and dispose of the same, at such time and times in such manner and upon such terms as they the Survivors and Survivor shall think fit and out of the proceeds to pay all the Debts which I shall owe at the time of my decease, in whole, if the fund shall be sufficient, proportionally, if it shall be insufficient, and the residue, if any there shall be to pay and deliver to my excellent and dear Wife Elizabeth Hamilton.

Though if it shall please God to spare my life I may look for a considerable surplus out of my present property—Yet if he should speedily call me to the eternal wor[l]d, a forced sale as is usual may possibly render it insufficient to satisfy my Debts. I pray God that something may remain for the maintenance and education of my dear Wife and Children. But should it on the contrary happen that there is not enough for the payment of my Debts, I entreat my Dear Children, if they or any of them shall ever be able, to make up the Deficiency. I without hesitation commit to their delicacy a wish which is dictated by my own. Though conscious that I have too far sacrificed the interests of my family to public avocations & on this account have the less claim to burthen my Children, yet I trust in their magnanimity to appreciate as they ought this my request. In so unfavourable an event of things, the support of their dear Mother with the most respectful and tender attention is a duty all the sacredness of which they will feel. Probably her own patrimonial resources will preserve her from Indigence. But in all situations they are charged to bear in mind that she has been to them the most devoted and best of mothers. In Testimony whereof I have hereunto subscribed my hand the Ninth day of July in the year of our lord One thousand Eight hundred & four.

Alexander Hamilton

Signed sealed published & declared as and for his last Will and Testament in our presence who have subscribed the same in his presence.

The words John B Church being above interlined.

Dominick T Blake

Graham Newell

Theo B Valleau

Source — Last Will and Testament of Alexander Hamilton, [9 July 1804]

According to John C. Hamilton, while he was executing it, a friend came in and related to him his fear of an intended fraud. Hamilton took him by the arm and said, “Let us walk past the counting-room of these people. Perhaps, on seeing us together, they may think it expedient to do you justice.” The expedient succeeded. [x]

In the afternoon, the regulations of the duel were finalized by Van Nass and Pendleton. [x] Hamilton wrote that Assignment of Debts and Grant of Power of Attorney would be placed on John B. Church. This was included in a list of seven items given to Nathaniel Pendleton. [x]

Know all Men by these Presents, That I Alexander Hamilton of the City of New York Counsellor at law, in consideration of one Dollar to me in hand paid by John B Church Esquire, (the receipt whereof is hereby acknowleged) have bargained sold assigned and conveyed and hereby do bargain sell assign & convey to the said John B Church all and singular the debts due owing and payable to me: which are specified in the schedule hereunto annexed to be by him collected and the proceeds applied first towards the payment of all and every the debt and debts which I owe to my household and other servants and labourers, and to the Woman who washes for Mrs. Hamilton—and secondly towards the satisfaction and discharge of certain accommodation notes made by me and indorsed by him and which have been or shall be discounted in and by the Manhattan Bank and the Office of Discount & Deposit of the Bank of the United States in the City of New York. And for this purpose I do hereby constitute and appoint him my Attorney to ask demand sue for recover and receive the said Debts and every of them and upon receipt thereof or any part thereof to make and give acquittances. In Witness whereof I have hereunto subscribed & set my hand and seal the Ninth day of July in the year of our lord One thousand Eight hundred & four.

A. Ham⟨ilton⟩

Source — Assignment of Debts and Grant of Power of Attorney to John B. Church, [9 July 1804]

The last remaining hours of the day were spent with his old Treasury protégé, Oliver Wolcott Jr., who later wrote; “Hamilton spent the afternoon & evening of Monday with our friends at my House in Company with Mr. Hopkinson of Phil’. He was uncommonly cheerful and gay The duel had been determined on for ten days.” [x]

July 10th, 1804

The following document is undated, but is theorized to have been composed or finished on Hamilton's last work day, Tuesday. Hamilton wrote a list of reasonings as to why he accepted the challenge;

Source — New York Historical Society. Alexander Hamilton statement on impending duel with Aaron Burr, undated, [July 10, 1804(?)]

On my expected interview with Col Burr, I think it proper to make some remarks explanatory of my conduct, motives and views.

I am certainly desirous of avoiding this interview, for the most cogent reasons.

1 My religious and moral principles are strongly opposed to the practice of Duelling, and it would even give me pain to be obliged to shed the blood of a fellow creature in a private combat forbidden by the laws.

2 My wife and Children are extremely dear to me, and my life is of the utmost importance to them, in various views.

3 I feel a sense of obligation towards my creditors; who in case of accident to me, by the forced sale of my property, may be in some degree sufferers. I did not think my self at liberty, as a man of probity, lightly to expose them to this hazard.

4 I am conscious of no ill-will to Col Burr, distinct from political opposition, which, as I trust, has proceeded from pure and upright motives.

Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can possibly gain nothing by the issue of the interview.

But it was, as I conceive, impossible for me to avoid it. There were intrinsick difficulties in the thing, and artificial embarrassments, from the manner of proceeding on the part of Col Burr.

Intrinsick—because it is not to be denied, that my animadversions on the political principles character and views of Col Burr have been extremely severe, and on different occasions, I, in common with many others, have made very unfavourable criticisms on particular instances of the private conduct of this Gentleman.

In proportion as these impressions were entertained with sincerity and uttered with motives and for purposes, which might appear to me commendable, would be the difficulty (until they could be removed by evidence of their being erroneous), of explanation or apology. The disavowal required of me by Col Burr, in a general and indefinite form, was out of my power, if it had really been proper for me to submit to be so questionned; but I was sincerely of opinion, that this could not be, and in this opinion, I was confirmed by that of a very moderate and judicious friend whom I consulted. Besides that Col Burr appeared to me to assume, in the first instance, a tone unnecessarily peremptory and menacing, and in the second, positively offensive. Yet I wished, as far as might be practicable, to leave a door open to accommodation. This, I think, will be inferred from the written communications made by me and by my direction, and would be confirmed by the conversations between Mr van Ness and myself, which arose out of the subject.

I am not sure, whether under all the circumstances I did not go further in the attempt to accommodate, than a pun[c]tilious delicacy will justify. If so, I hope the motives I have stated will excuse me.

It is not my design, by what I have said to affix any odium on the conduct of Col Burr, in this case. He doubtless has heared of animadversions of mine which bore very hard upon him; and it is probable that as usual they were accompanied with some falshoods. He may have supposed himself under a necessity of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceeding have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience.

I trust, at the same time, that the world will do me the Justice to believe, that I have not censured him on light grounds, or from unworthy inducements. I certainly have had strong reasons for what I may have said, though it is possible that in some particulars, I may have been influenced by misconstruction or misinformation. It is also my ardent wish that I may have been more mistaken than I think I have been, and that he by his future conduct may shew himself worthy of all confidence and esteem, and prove an ornament and blessing to his Country.

As well because it is possible that I may have injured Col Burr, however convinced myself that my opinions and declarations have been well founded, as from my general principles and temper in relation to similar affairs—I have resolved, if our interview is conducted in the usual manner, and it pleases God to give me the opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire, and I have thoughts even of reserving my second fire—and thus giving a double opportunity to Col Burr to pause and to reflect.

It is not however my intention to enter into any explanations on the ground. Apology, from principle I hope, rather than Pride, is out of the question.

To those, who with me abhorring the practice of Duelling may think that I ought on no account to have added to the number of bad examples—I answer that my relative situation, as well in public as private aspects, enforcing all the considerations which constitute what men of the world denominate honor, impressed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessity not to decline the call. The ability to be in future useful, whether in resisting mischief or effecting good, in those crises of our public affairs, which seem likely to happen, would probably be inseparable from a conformity with public prejudice in this particular.

Source — Statement on Impending Duel with Aaron Burr, [28 June–10 July 1804]

Hamilton ran into a family friend and client on Broadway, Dirck Ten Broeck, who reminded him that he had forgotten to deliver a promised legal opinion. Afterward, Broeck reflected with astonishment on Hamilton's reaction; “He was really ashamed of his neglect, but [said] that I must call on him the next day, Wednesday—(the awful fatal day)—at 10 o'clock, when he would sit down with me, lock the door, and then we would finish the business.” [x]

Hamilton wrote to Theodore Sedgwick, his friend of many years, who had been the channel of his most useful communications on the policy of the country; thus showing that, to the latest moment, his thoughts were upon that which had formed the leading topic of the Federalist—“the utility of the Union to the political prosperity of the whole American people.” [x] Since one purpose of the duel was to prepare to head off a secessionist threat, he warned Sedgwick against any such movement among New England Federalists.

Source — Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston. Letter from Alexander Hamilton to Theodore Sedgwick, 10 July 1804.

New York July 10. 1804

My Dear Sir

I have received two letters from you since we last saw each other—that of the latest date being the 24 of May. I have had in hand for some time a long letter to you, explaining my view of the course and tendency of our Politics, and my intentions as to my own future conduct. But my plan embraced so large a range that owing to much avocation, some indifferent health, and a growing distaste for Politics, the letter is still considerably short of being finished. I write this now to satisfy you, that want of regard for you has not been the cause of my silence.

I will here express but one sentiment, which is, that Dismembrement of our Empire will be a clear sacrifice of great positive advantages, without any counterballancing good; administering no relief to our real Disease; which is Democracy, the poison of which by a subdivision will only be the more concentered in each part, and consequently the more virulent.

King is on his way for Boston where you may chance to see him, and hear from himself his sentiments.

God bless you

A H

Source — Alexander Hamilton to Theodore Sedgwick, [July 10, 1804]

Hamilton then saw Judah Hammond, who was a clerk in AH's law office, where he drafted an elaborate opinion in a legal matter. Hammond later recalled that; “The last time General Hamilton was in the office was in the early part of July 1804, in the afternoon. I was the only person remaining in the office with him. The last thing he did there, in his professional business he did at my desk and by my side. Even the place seems sacred to my memory. The office was at Number twelve in Garden Street, opposite the Church Grounds. The building has been since removed. It was near sunset, the evening bright and serene. The setting sun approached the margin of the horizon, shedding his last rays on the beautiful objects illustrated by his departing splendours. At this closing of the day, when we love to linger in its pleasures, General Hamilton came to my desk, in the tranquil manner usual with him, and gave me a business paper with his instructions, concerning it. I saw no change in his appearance. These were his last moments in his place of business” [x]

According to John C. Hamilton; “—after waiting upon his faithful friend, Oliver Wolcott, at the close of an entertainment given by him, [...] made his last visit. It was to Colonel [Robert] Troup, the companion of his early years.” [x] For weeks, Troup had lain bedridden with a grave illness that Hamilton feared might prove mortal. When he dropped by to visit Troup, Hamilton did not mention the duel and overflowed Troup with medical suggestions;

“The General's visit lasted more than half an hour; and after making particular inquiries respecting the state of my complaint, he favored me with his advice as to the course which he thought would best conduce to the reestablishment of my health. But the whole tenor of the General's deportment during the visit manifested such composure and cheerfulness of mind as to leave me without any suspicion of the rencontre that was depending.”

Source — William and Mary Quarterly, Journal

Afterwards, Hamilton returned to his townhouse. Pendleton found him there and attempted to discuss with him and make a final attempt to dissuade Hamilton from his decision to delope during the duel. Nevertheless, Hamilton insisted he would fire in the air. When Pendleton protested, Hamilton indicated that his mind was made up; “My friend,” he told Pendleton, “it is the effect of a religious scruple and does not admit of reasoning. It is useless to say more on the subject as my purpose is definitely fixed.” [x]

At 10 p.m, Hamilton - even after already writing Eliza a farewell letter dated on the fourth - sat down in his study upstairs and took his quill once more to pen another letter but in favor of Anne Mitchell, Hamilton's cousin, and his largest supporter in his boyhood.

Source — A letter from Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton, dated July 4, 1804. Courtesy of the Library of Congress Manuscripts Division.

My beloved Eliza

Mrs. Mitchel is the person in the world to whom as a friend I am under the greatest Obligations. I have ⟨not⟩ hitherto done my ⟨duty⟩ to her. But ⟨resolved⟩ to repair my omission as much as ⟨possible,⟩ I have encouraged her to come to ⟨this Country⟩ and intend, if it shall be ⟨in my po⟩wer to render the Evening of her days ⟨c⟩omfortable. But if it shall please God to put this out of my power and to inable you hereafter to be of ⟨s⟩ervice to her, I entreat you to d⟨o⟩ it and to treat ⟨h⟩er with the tenderness of a Sister.

This is my second letter.

The Scrup⟨les of a Christian have deter⟩mined me to expose my own li⟨fe to any⟩ extent rather than subject my s⟨elf to the⟩ guilt of taking the life of ⟨another.⟩ This must increase my hazards & redoubles my pangs for you. But you had rather I should die inno⟨c⟩ent than live guilty. Heaven can pre⟨se⟩rve me ⟨and I humbly⟩ hope will ⟨b⟩ut in the contrary ⟨e⟩vent, I charge you to remember that you are a Christian. God’s Will be done. The will of a merciful God must be good.

Once more Adieu My Darling darling Wife

A H

Tuesday Evening 10 oCl⟨ock⟩

⟨Mrs Ha⟩milton

Source — Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton, [10 July 1804]

Hamilton descended from his study, and entered the parlor downstairs, there he found his son reading a book. Hamilton watched him pensively for a few moments, before he leaned over his book and smiled as he asked him if he would sleep with him. [x] The son in this story is Hamilton's fifth child, John Church Hamilton, who later recalled the same incident in an interview;

I recall a single incident about it with full clearness. [...] The day before the duel I was sitting in a room, when, at a slight noise, I turned around and saw my father in the doorway, standing silently there and looking at me with a most sweet and beautiful expression of countenance. It was full of tenderness, and without any of the business pre-occupation he sometimes had. “John,” he said, when I had discovered him, “won't you come and sleep with me to-night?” His voice was frank as if he had been my brother instead of my father. That night I went to his bed, and in the morning very early he awakened me, and taking my hands in his palms, all four hands extended, he said and told me to repeat the Lord's Prayer. Seventy-five years have since passed over my head, and I have forgotten many things, but not that tender expression when he stood looking at me in the door nor the prayer we made together the morning before the duel. I do not so well recollect seeing him lie upon his deathbed, though I was there.

Source — Interview with John Church Hamilton, reminiscences about his father.

July 11th, 1804

After Hamilton retired to bed with John uncommonly early, he awoke quietly at three o'clock the next morning. Hamilton reportedly had; “some imperfect sleep; but the succeeding morning his symptoms were aggravated, attended however with a diminution of pain. His mind retained all its usual strength and composure. The great source of his anxiety seemed to be in his sympathy with his half distracted wife and children.” [x] He soon awoke John and took his hands in his palms, “all four hands extended”, he spoke the Lord's Prayer, as John repeated after him. Afterwards he asked his son to light a candle, John asked him what was the matter and Hamilton had lied to him claiming that his little sister, Eliza Hamilton Holly, was ill and had been taken out of town. And that his mother had sent for him and that he was going out with Doctor Hosack. After the candle was lit he sat down and wrote a hymn which he had but just finished when Pendleton and Hosack called for him. The hymn was put in his will where it was found by his wife later on. [x]

Main sources:

Life of Alexander Hamilton, by John Church Hamilton.

The intimate life of Alexander Hamilton, by Allan McLane Hamilton.

Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow.

A Collection of the Facts and Documents, Relative to the Death of Major-General Alexander Hamilton, by William Coleman.

Four letters on the death of Alexander Hamilton 1804, David B. Ogden.

#amrev #american history #the duel #alexander hamilton #historical alexander hamilton #john church hamilton #nathaniel pendleton #judah hammond #theodore sedgwick #robert troup #oliver wolcott #elizabeth schuyler #elizabeth hamilton #history #txt #cicero's history lessons

[callmemana]

Whiskey Bottles & Wild Flowers Masterlist:

Leonard ‘Wolfman’ Wolfe x Amanda ‘Cricket’ Pruitt

Rick ‘Hollywood’ Neven x Baylie ‘Duckie’ Pruitt ( @bayisdying )

Warnings: fluff & angst. Redneck activities(?)

After Months of being deployed, Leonard comes home to a childhood friend who hasn’t talked to him since he was 18 and shipped off to basic. While he was gone she had wrote letters to him but never got any response back. Unknown to her, something went wrong with the mailing service and he never got the letters to begin with. So when he comes home and expects open arms and warms hugs from his best friend, only to get the cold shoulder. He knows something’s wrong, but he can’t get her to talk to him at all. Will a heart to heart when a thunderstorm makes it way towards them and strands them in the family barn help heal their relationship?

Thank you @switchbladedreamz @bayisdying for helping!

1. Fool Me Once, Shame On Me. Fool Me Twice, Shame on You.

2. Mess With the Bill, You Get the Horns.

3. My Boots Might Be Tiny, But Oh Lord Am I Mighty!

4. Brands & Belt Buckles

5. Boots With The Spurs

6. Idiot! You Forgot Gas?!

7. Dressed In My Sunday Best

8. Cowboys & Angels

9. One Piece At A Time

10. Shotgun! The Front Seat? No, My Dad, Dumbass!

11. Breakin’ Colts On A Hot Summer Day

12. Tin Roof Singin’

13. Feel The Mud Between My Toes As We Dance In The Rain Together

14. Drive Safe, Cowboy. I’ll Still Be Here When You Get Back

15. Rodeo Romeo

16. Haylofts & Forgiveness

17. She’s The Reason For Leaving On My Porch Light

18. Whippoorwills & Love Confessions

19. Listen To Strait; Love Without End, Amen Baby.

20. I May Be From A Small Town, But I’ll Follow You Wherever You Go, Cowboy

Meet The Characters:

Baby|Bambi|Cricket|Chatterbox|Chipper|Daisy|Dragon|Duckie|Goose|Iceman|Knuckles|Maverick|Pretty-Boy|Leo|Scarlett|Slider|Spence|Sundown|Squirrel|Tennessee|Whiskey|

Duos:

Busch & Jack Pruitt|Beau & Katherine Pruitt|

TK & Chloe|Duckie & Cricket|John & Ruth Wolfe|

Spencer & Quinn Henderson|——

Forever 🏷️ list: @bayisdying @switchbladedreamz @dragon-kazansky @mrsjaderogers @sweetlittlegingy

🏷️ list: @luckyladycreator2 @lisedanie

#birdslibrary #birdsmasterlist #wb&wf: mlist #callmemana #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfic #not my characters #leonard wolfman wolfe #rick hollywood neven #not my oc #baylie duckie pruitt #hollywood x duckie #wolfman x cricket #duckie & cricket #my ocs #Wolfe family oc #john wolfe oc #ruth wolfe #quinn daisy wolfe #rebecca chatterbox wolfe #spencer spence henderson #Pruitt family oc #busch pruitt oc #katherine kat pruitt #jack pruitt oc #beauregard beau pruitt #tk knuckles pruitt #chloe squirrel mckinley #amanda cricket pruitt #whiskey bottles & wild flower series

[azsdiary]

More of me hanging with men - tonight I hung w a different one and got to share Christ with him again. He cool fr. He said the gospel music I played relaxed him.

He said he wants to see me w a man loooool (amen) we chilling it’s 12am :) I feel relaxed. I was so overwhelmed. The guy I spent time w at the beach party said I should unlearn that service = burning out attending everything. Even Jesus didn’t heal every person He came across and took time alone. Lol.

Y’all YALL I WON AN AWARD FOR THE HIGHEST DISSERTATION GRADE IN MY YEAR loool since when was I #1?? Wow.

Oh y’all want reciepts!? Sure.

I think I’ll vlog in my new life :)

Idk today was a lot ppl tryna stress me but GOD? He said:

“you will walk safely in your way,

And your foot will not stumble.

When you lie down, you will not be afraid;

Yes, you will lie down and your sleep will be sweet.

Do not be afraid of sudden terror,

Nor of trouble from the wicked when it comes;

For the LORD will be your confidence,

And will keep your foot from being caught.”

- Proverbs 3

#2000s nostalgia #black girl diary #black it girl #y2k black girl #y2k aesthetic #2000s aesthetic #meagan good 2000s #meagan good #proverbs #proverbs 3 #christian bible #bible quote #bible teaching #black christian girl #Christian it Girl #christian blogger #chili tlc #chilli tlc #Spotify

[for-me-to-live-is-christ]

Prayer for Sunday Worship

O God, who makes us glad with the weekly remembrance of the glorious resurrection of your Son our Lord Jesus Christ; Give me this day such blessings through my worship of you, that the days to come may be spent in your service; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

[robertlaskarzewski]

Twentieth Blog

On Sunday, I went to the nearby city of Marseille, the capital of the region. To be honest, I have never heard any good reviews of the city from both locals and foreigners alike. The city felt very crowded when I went - possibly because it was a weekend day. I visited the port and a hill that overlooked part of the bay, but the main reason for my visit was to see an Olympique Marseille game, probably the second-best known soccer team of France. I was amazed by the atmosphere, and I would even say it was better than that of PSG, the best team in the nation.

Despite this amazing atmosphere, I was forced to leave shortly after the first half to catch my train back to Toulon. Once I got back, I realized that the bus service had already stopped and that I would be forced to take an Uber home. To my dismay, there were no Ubers available for my service and I was forced to go home by foot.

Monday, I had a rather uneventful day and just walked around the city of Toulon.

On Tuesday, I again had an uneventful day. I went for a run in the morning to the nearby beach where few tourists visit. I swam around for a little and enjoyed the bright sun. Later, I went into Toulon to get a haircut - an action which I would later regret - and to get flowers for my director - because I was going to have dinner at his place with his family later.

On Wednesday, I had a spur of the moment trip to Marseille again with one of my coworkers from Le Rocher. We visited the Mucem museum, one of the largest museums in the city, as well as a church that sat on a summit overlooking the entire city and the bay. I found the exhibit about Mediterranean food culture to be extremely interesting, as well as the scientific evidence supporting its proliferation.

On Thursday, I took a ferry to the nearby Island of Hyères and visited the city of Porquerelles.

The history of the island was very interesting as it had been bought by a rich French man in the 19th century and had been run very carefully and meticulously by himself and his family. Among the governing amenities of the island included subsidized farming projects and a local doctor.

The climate of the island reminded me of a mix between California and Hawaii (although the Hawaii part of this may have been because it was raining the day of).

On Friday, I went to Nice to visit some of my friends and stay to see a day of the Cannes Film Festival (a 30-minute train ride away).

On Saturday, we went to Cannes to see the film festival. Going into to the festival, I had little to no expectations as to who or what I would see. Once we got there, it seemed like my expectations were valid - droves of people were walking around with passes hanging from their necks that would be required to see screenings of new movies. Amazingly, after wandering around the city aimlessly, I came across the hotel where actors and actresses were getting into their taxis. Even more amazingly, I was able to see actors such as Robert De Niro, Kristen Durst, and Leonardo DiCaprio.

On Sunday, it was my final day in Nice and I would be returning back to Toulon. Unfortunately, it wasn't until the day that I left Nice that the weather was finally agreeable.

[antimonyandthyme]

i’ve been rotating priest seb and fighter pilot max in my head since i saw that tag just so u know

i have a few ideas but like. i wanna know what You think

Dorian you're in L-U-C-K have you seen this yet? Have you seen it!!! Anon dropped priest seb and fighter pilot max going to a confessional and expected me to stay sane I'm gnawing on it like a baked potato with bacon bits and sour cream and butter and chives!!!

Wanna know what I think? I think Max is the youngest pilot in his cohort, I think he outflies his instructors, I think he's daring and bold and he rewrites the rulebook and pisses off his peers and he's that guy and he's IT until he doesn't get chosen for some top clearance level mission, something about not working well with others, something about not playing by the rules, and suddenly he's left unmoored.

Angry. Lost. As a joke one of the recruits suggests going to church. Max nearly punches him. But he's got nothing better to do on a Sunday since he's got no mission to accomplish. He goes to church.

The priest tells silly jokes that the congregation must be paid to laugh at. Except Max is laughing too. He's got a cheeky little grin and a kind, soothing voice, and the collar looks just that bit looser on him than it has on any other man who's worn it before. At the end of the service, the priest goes, Remember, it doesn't matter how long since it's been since your last confessional. God has no timeline.

Max stalks out of the church doors. Gets to his car, then stalks back. He does this two more times that by the time he gets to the box, the church is empty. Well good, there's his decision made for him then.

But the priest is still there.

He tries to remember the words. Forgive me Father for I have sinned. My last confession was--

Jesus. Ah, crap. Probably petitioning the lord in this way isn't the best thing to do at the moment. But he can't remember the last time he's sat in the box.

The priest says, very kindly, Go on, son.

Max swallows. Pride, and avariciousness, and greed, and I think I'm better than them, and it should have been me, the sky welcomes me like no other, they fly as if their feet are still mired in the dirt, and I do as if the earth has no hold on me, and--

He stops. The priest hasn't said a word. Well, they asked him to confess, so he did. Max waits, half-expecting the priest to chastise him in his stupid fatherly way.

The priest laughs. Fighter pilot, huh?

Yeah.

That brings back memories.

Max blinks. Wait, what? You fly?

Flew, the priest corrected. I was young once, and--

Please, Max says. You're still young, anyone can see that. And then he flushes when he realizes he'd just alluded to being very aware of how the priest looks.

Oh sue him. The priest is handsome, alright? He’s not blind.

Why, thank you. The priest sounds delighted with the compliment. Oh my god. What kind of priest is this? But I was saying, I was young once, and I used to think the sky belonged to me as well.

Max leans in, entranced, never mind that he can just about picture how this priest is sat, one leg probably crossed over the other, cheeky smile on his face as he recounts his story. And? Did it?

No. The voice is tinged with wistfulness now. The sky never belonged to me. As does any of God's creation.

Ah. That's what loneliness sounds like, Max is well aware.

The priest leads him through a prayer of contrition. Max recites it by rote, when there are a million other questions he wants to be asking. Amen, he says, and there's a pregnant pause.

The priest's voice is soft. I hope you will return, son.

Next Sunday, huh. Well. It's not like he has anything better to do.

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #max/seb #and then he keeps coming back #and then he wrangles the story out of seb #parallels abound #youngest cockiest genius #until he went on a mission and ignored the rules and in doing so had to be saved by a friend who sacrificed his life for him #and seb decided to act out the word penitence #anyway max falls in love #this is what i'm thinking #but dorian now you must tell me #what are YOU thinking #priest/fighter pilot au

[jerickreforba25]

“Yes, I just want to recommit my life with Jesus.”

I just want to look back and re-live my own testimony story that I’ve shared a year ago.

At my younger age, I was suffered from Autism spectrum disorder and I’ve got addicted to online pornography and masturbation. Due to the rest of my darkest situations, I’m feeling brokenhearted or triggered. This I know that I’m a disabled person. Romans 5:5 NKJV reminds us, “Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”

I’ve realized that no one cares if I’m not sure how to surrender my life to Jesus for good. I want to overcome my sin forever. I’m asking for forgiveness and understanding. I need to receive love and respect, in my own personal life. I know, all the dark situations have been overcome for a long time, due to my mental health status, as an Autism survivor. It’s in the middle of my healing. Psalm 30:2 NASB 1995 says, “O Lord my God, I cried to You for help, and You healed me.”

Thank you for changing my life that when I personally met Jesus as our Lord and Savior for a long time. As I shared in Psalm 37:5 ESV, “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.” I have been baptized in water for a long time, on May 20, 2017, in a swimming pool. Until my lifestyle changed again, as if God’s door had been reopened. Ephesians 4:5 NLT says, “There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism.”

By God’s grace, I’m currently attending to Elevate Naga’s Saturday youth service and CCF Naga’s Sunday worship service since 2017. The best is yet to come. I can’t wait to continue praying in Psalm 18:28 NLT, “You light a lamp for me. The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness.”

My prayer that I just want to say thank you for helping me through the toughest times of my life. You continued to shower me with blessings even when I was at my lowest. For this, I am eternally grateful to You. In the name of Jesus.

AMEN.

To God alone, be the glory, honor and praise!

© 2023 Jerick Combate Reforba. All rights reserved.

#baptism #christianity #jesus #faith #hope #love #healing #inspiration #testimony #true life retreat #amen #thank you jesus #to god be the glory

[gleedental]

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#Youtube