#devotion to God’s mission
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thinkingonscripture · 24 days ago
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Prioritizing God’s Call Over Self
The Bible reveals that some things are more important than life itself. For the apostle Paul, his call to ministry was the most important thing to him. When speaking to the Elders at Ephesus, Paul said, “I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, so that I may finish my course and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of…
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urloveangel · 7 months ago
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e-devotion · 4 months ago
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day 5 in Cuba
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2 Thessalonians 2:14  NLT  
He called you to salvation when we told you the Good News; now you can share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.
How awesome it is to be part of what God is doing around the world.  Paul said that God called him to be an apostle, a sent out one, with the message of Good News.
That is the same good news that we share today.  Paul wasn’t perfect, but he knew that his life and preaching were very important.  He knew that what he wants to do was very different from what he did earlier in life.
May we be people who press on.  May we share Christ.  Do all that we can to let as many people know Jesus as we do.
Philippians 3:12-14  NLT  
I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection. But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me. 13 No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.
Have a great weekend.   Pray for the entire time in Cuba and the impact that this trip will have!  Thank you for your prayers and support.  The e-devotions will come to you only a few times while I am in Cuba.
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writesaboutdragons · 17 days ago
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365 Promises of God
Day 351 – You Shall Receive a Hundredfold
"And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands, for My name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life. (Mat 19:29 NKJV)
Read: Matthew 19:23-30
There’s a quote running around that I’ve heard before, and I’m not sure of its source. “Being a Christian is not easy. But it’s got a great retirement plan.” Our passage today should seem a bit familiar. We discussed it less than a month ago, when a rich young ruler approached Jesus about how to get to heaven. And Jesus said at that time it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven.
God’s economy almost always seems upside down. You have to lose your life to find it. You have to give in order to receive. If you wish to rule you must be a servant. The least shall be greatest, and the last shall be first.
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The rich young ruler was unwilling to give up what he had in order to gain what he could never buy. To give up what he couldn’t keep to gain what he could never lose. The ‘hundredfold’ referred to here is not literal. It simply means that God will reward us overabundantly in the afterlife, and may even do this down here. But did you notice that there are qualifications to this promise? Let’s unpack them.
First, the gain of this reward demands that we leave things here that most of us would wish to cling to; houses, family, lands. God expects us to be willing to give up anything that hinders us from following Him. Long ago I watched our church send more than 65 couples to the mission field – not in short term missions, mind you, but in full time permanent missions. They all ended up leaving jobs, selling their homes, divesting themselves of furniture and trappings and in some cases even family ties. And I know, having spoken with them, that their rewards here on earth have been far more than they could have imagined.
Second, you will notice that simply giving these things up is not enough. The motivation here can not be for some expected ‘retirement nest egg’ in glory land. God’s not calling you to give these things up to get something greater. He’s calling you to give these things up for His NAME’S SAKE. In other gospels it says ‘for my sake and the gospel’s’ (Mark 10:29) or ‘for the kingdom of God’s sake’ (Luke18:29) and these seem different but they all mean the same thing. We are to do this for HIM. And when we do, out of love for Him, He will replace anything we’ve lost, with more. If you lose family, you gain a family in the billions. If you lose a home, you will gain a mansion in heaven. If you give up lands here, you will inherit an eternal kingdom.
Prayer:
Father God, may I give up anything that keeps us apart, today. Amen
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biblebloodhound · 6 months ago
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It Is Not Yet My Time (John 7:1-9)
“It is better to incur the world’s hatred, by testifying against its wickedness, than gain its good will by going down the stream with them.” Matthew Henry
Later Jesus was going about his business in Galilee. He didn’t want to travel in Judea because the Jews there were looking for a chance to kill him. It was near the time of Tabernacles, a feast observed annually by the Jews. His brothers said, “Why don’t you leave here and go up to the Feast so your disciples can get a good look at the works you do? No one who intends to be publicly known does…
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metranart · 3 months ago
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Gojo and Geto are greedy lovers. “Is this not enough?” NO! They want more, they want EVERYTHING, a ring around your finger, their baby making your tummy round, you safe at home waiting for them, they want to be domesticated by you, they want you exclusively for themselves, they don’t want to share you with anyone.
You are theirs… that’s why they work for it with everything they have. Geto bends you over his desk while Gojo does so on his knees. Geto is insatiable and achingly tender while Gojo is possessive but insistently devoted. They have learned to work as a team. One kisses your neck while the other buries his face between your legs. One holds your trembling knees, spreading you wide, while the other licks, sucks and nibbles at your clit. One stretches your pussy while the other your ass, both filling you so goooood, both going out of their way to stuff you to the brim at every opportunity, they want you dripping in their gifted sorcerer cum… all in hope of getting you pregnant.
You are too independent, smart and strong. You don’t need them but you grant them your favor because you love them and they love you, but if you knew how intensely that love is ripping them apart, you might have suspected when your birth control pills started to taste like orange, maybe you wouldn’t be smiling as you let them fuck you in every place they have the chance, a lonely alley, in their office between classes, after and even during missions, in the morning, in the afternoon, at night, always letting them cum inside you,over and over and over and over again.
Confident of being able to control their insatiable nature, naive enough of not knowing that it was all part of their plan. Unable to see the immense and blissful expression on their faces when one morning they find you bent over the toilet, vomiting… Gojo and Geto hold hands to contain themselves, anticipation devours them, they can’t wait to see you grow round and heavy with their child inside your pretty belly… they grin like maniacs, one holds your hair while the other offers you a glass of water.
“You must have eaten something bad.” That calms you down, GOD! You are so adorably gullible, and now also… so hopelessly, THEIRS.
➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble 🥴
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brunchable · 2 months ago
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𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿
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Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.
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It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.
You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”
“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.
Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”
You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”
So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.
Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 
“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.
“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.
You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.
By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.
And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?
As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.
With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 
“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”
Or so you thought.
Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.
× × × ×
The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.
You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.
“Need help with that?”
“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.
Except...then you did.
You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.
You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.
Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.
But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 
SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.
This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.
“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.
“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”
Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.
“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.
“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”
You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.
But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.
“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.
“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”
Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 
“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!
But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”
As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.
I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.
The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.
Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—
You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.
But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.
You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.
A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.
You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.
Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.
You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?
With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.
“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.
And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”
You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”
But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.
The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”
“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.
But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.
As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.
“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.
× × × ×
Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.
It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.
You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?
Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.
You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.
Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.
You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”
Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.
You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.
“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”
“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.
But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 
“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”
“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”
“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.
But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 
“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.
You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 
“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.
Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”
Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.
By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.
And then… the grocery bag incident.
You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.
“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.
You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.
You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.
You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 
“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.
He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.
“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.
Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.
“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”
A moment of silence.
“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”
Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 
“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”
You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 
“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”
He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 
“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”
Your soul left your body.
He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 
“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 
And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.
“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.
The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”
Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.
Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.
You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 
You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.
Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.
You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.
× × × ×
It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.
The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.
“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”
You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 
“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.
The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.
“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”
You stammered, turning pink. 
“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.
But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.
You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”
Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 
“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.
“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”
But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.
“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”
Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.
“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”
“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.
You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.
“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.
“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”
You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 
“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.
“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.
“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”
He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.
Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.
“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”
You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”
× × × ×
Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.
There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.
He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.
“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.
“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”
You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 
“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.
“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”
He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”
“Oh no, really, I should—”
He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”
You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”
Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.
“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”
Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.
He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 
“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”
You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”
He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 
“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”
Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.
“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”
Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 
“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.
“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.
You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 
“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.
“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”
“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”
Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 
“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”
He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 
“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”
“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”
He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”
You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.
“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”
You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.
“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”
“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”
You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”
“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”
Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”
He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”
You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”
“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”
His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.
Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.
“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”
You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.
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itsyourchoicedevotionals · 1 year ago
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Sat Quietly Inside
“If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength is small. Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter. If you say, “Behold, we did not know this,” does not He Who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not He who keeps watch over your soul know it, and will He not repay man according to his work?” Proverbs 24:10-12ESV
One thing which I abhor doing is telephone solicitation. Late 1980-1990’s, I sold life and health insurance. To start with— I deeply feared men, because of molestation, and rape. Add to that— getting into a man’s private business about providing for his family after death—shudder. Calling any man, cold-turkey- to solicit sales information— abhorrent. In company classes, I shone with the phone interviews. Real life, I could stutter, hem and haw, close up inside like a clam, shake, and begin having panic attacks.
Ohio has been targeted by multiplied millions of dollars from other state's Democrats to turn our state into a pro- late term abortion, removal of parental rights, children’s transgender movement. They say— ‘as Ohio goes, so goes the other states.’ We have an election for one item in August— to force the constitution majority up from 50% plus 1, to a 60% majority. This will make it much more difficult to make our state pro-satan's agenda. [PLEASE PRAY FOR A WIN IN THIS BALLOT INITIATIVE] Rather than just informing citizens in the large, metropolitan, liberal areas to vote, the entire state will have to be made aware of what’s being voted in.
With age related limitations, I can’t knock on doors— (facing a person is easier for me to do). So— I’m back doing telephone solicitations. This time— to save the lives of the children. Nothing has changed. I’m struggling with panic, and stuttering. It’s only possible for me to make a few calls at a time before I start shutting down.
Believers— we are at the place in this nation where we have to stand up for the standards of God, even if we’re uncomfortable. “So everyone who acknowledges Me before men, I also will acknowledge before My Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies Me before men, I also will deny before My Father who is in heaven” Matthew 10:32-33ESV. We can’t stand idly by doing and saying nothing.
Visit my personal Facebook page, everyone sees the many ads for the movie ‘Sound of Freedom.’ I’m daring to announce to the world— human trafficking is alive and well, mostly in high places. It’s a business that earns an estimated $152BILLION annually.
For far too many years the church has sat quietly inside its four walls while the world outside is going to hell. The time is here to pray like we’ve never prayed before. Put shoes on our prayers and go back into the other mountains of society— taking them back for the Lord.
We’ve got the largest mission field in the world coming through our southern border. Are we going to allow those children to be siphoned off into sex trafficking?
What can we do? Warring in prayer, first. Dispatching angels, second. Pressure our political leaders, third. Get out there, if you can, mingle with the foreign people. Lead them to Jesus.
Are we willing to be uncomfortable? Is it going to make us nervous? Don’t sit quietly inside. We might only be able to work for the Lord a few minutes at a time, but “Hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter.” It’s your choice. You choose.
LET’S PRAY: Lord God, we have to do something. Show us what and how, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.
by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblg this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.
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suiana · 5 months ago
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yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...
he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.
and then you came stumbling right into his life.
you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.
"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"
"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"
maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.
you don't quite share the same sentiment though.
you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!
"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."
"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."
he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.
it's infuriating, you think.
you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.
but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!
however...
"where do you think you're doing?"
"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"
"yes."
"???"
you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.
"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"
"i am going to punish you."
"punish?"
he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?
the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.
"yes, punish."
he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.
"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."
what the- what is he doing?!
"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."
he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!
"hey I don't understand-"
"of course you don't. you're confused."
he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...
"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."
he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.
"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"
huh? what's sex gotta do with this?
"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."
wait what?!
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sirenscriptures · 1 year ago
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princess treatment - mw2 men
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✧ synopsis: men who secretly (or not so secretly) live for treating you like royalty. even in the most mundane or difficult of times, you are their personal sanctuary.
۶♡ৎ featuring: johnny “soap” mactavish, simon “ghost” riley, captain john price, alejandro vargas, and könig.
before you read: female reader, sub reader, lots and lots of body worship, praise, soft sex, a little dacryphilia if u squint, breeding, cockwarming, cunnilingus, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex, use of pet/endearment names.
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۶♡ৎ johnny “soap” mactavish ۶♡ৎ
✧ if there’s a man who is never ashamed to spoil you in any way he can, it’s johnny. ever since you two made it official he was all over the idea of showing you off and spoiling you to no end.
✧ outside of combat and missions, you can bet he dedicates so much of his time to you–his sweet girl.
✧ god help you if he comes home from a longer mission. you will not be able to pry him away from you for days. it’s not like you mind at all, though. his kisses are everything you wanted, so weighted and passionate, and he’s not even fully through the threshold of the front door when he first sees you again.
✧ his hands are already nestled in your hair, pressing your back against the wall as his tongue slips into your mouth. with his warm breath tickling your mouth, you can’t help but let out one of the sweetest whimpers he’s ever heard. god, it never fully occurred to him how much he loved to make you whine for him.
✧ “oh banphrionsa…” he murmurs, lips moving down to your sensitive neck. “i missed you.”
✧ “i missed you, too…” you stammer out feebly, the heat rising within your cheeks. your already flustered expression sparks a familiar fire within him as he moves you into his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom.
✧ it doesn’t take much to get you both out of your clothes, yet johnny still can’t get over how good you look. every time he gets to see you like this, it doesn’t matter how many times, he still gets so excited over it.
✧ “shit, baby…” he murmurs, peppering kisses on your upper body as he climbs on top of you. “you make me so crazy, y’know that?”
✧ nodding, you can’t help but give him that flirty smile that he loves so much. his lips crash onto yours again, tongue relishing the taste of your mouth. meanwhile, his hands are admiring your bare body as if you’re a rare jewel.
✧ even when just kissing you, it’s clear soap adores you in every way possible. it’s evident in the way he touches, kisses, and fucks you. he never wastes a single moment with you, and is always making sure you know just how special you are.
✧ even in between thrusts, his hands and words always ensure you’re reminded that you’re his special girl—his princess. the feeling of him stretching out your walls as he continually praises you is enough to draw you to tears—from both overstimulation and emotion.
✧ when he can tell you’re close to an orgasm, he pulls you closer into him even more, thrusts going deeper and deeper each moment. “i love you so much, sweetheart.” he groans, seed sputtering inside of you as your back arches against his chest, the sweetest moans flowing from your lips as you finish along with him.
۶♡ৎ simon “ghost” riley ۶♡ৎ
✧ for someone so reserved as simon, it was no surprise how much he valued your time alone together.
✧ in the past, he really preferred to be by himself when he had the time to spare. he always felt most himself when he wasn’t around too many people. but over time, it became natural that you were with him in these moments that brought him great peace.
✧ but past all things missions and duty, he deeply cherished when he got to be home alone with you. that way, he felt completely devoted to treating you the way you always deserved: like royalty.
✧ well, his version of royalty in this sense was a bit different than the conventional meaning of the term. but, in true simon fashion, it was quite fitting. and plus, he knew you loved it.
✧ the way he held you so perfectly in front of the mirror, hands caressing your body as his cock plunged in and out of you, he made sure you felt within every inch that you were all his.
✧ with your walls fluttering around him, you made it so much harder for him to hold back. simon knew you felt the same, the way your breaths depleted to mere shudders, your eyes glazing over with the faintest hint of tears.
✧ gently, his hand cupped under your chin, making you stare at your delicate frame against his broad chest. “now, now, sweet girl…” he purrs, breath tingling on your neck.
✧ “i can’t have you breaking on me now, can i?” his slightly raspy tone is loving, yet teasing you at the same time as a calloused thumb swipes away a tear streaking down your cheek. simon has always hated seeing you cry, but when he can make you cry from pure pleasure, you can bet that makes him feel on top of the world.
✧ “i need you to see how pretty you are, love.” you don’t even have to see his full face to feel his smirk against you. not even his full coverage mask could hide that from you on his best day.
✧ there is a sense of pride in his gaze as he looks at you through your reflection. with his hand under your chin, your expression is absolutely priceless. your glassed-over, desperate eyes practically plead for more, and your kiss-swollen lips are still as irresistible as ever. he can’t hide how proud he is that he’s made a mess of you–his sweet girl.
✧ “there you are, princess.” he teases, watching you stare at yourself in a daze. his thrusts are slow in and out of you as a free hand rubs and pinches at your nipples. your head falls back onto his shoulder, another broken moan falling from your agape mouth. simon feels you clenching around him again, the feeling earning a growl from him.
✧ but still, his thrusts remain tender and slow, ensuring you feel every part of him. as much as he’d love to ravage you with rough, fast thrusts, he loves your reactions to his deep, slow pace far too much in this moment. plus, this was all about your pleasure.
✧ it isn’t long before his warm seed is ribboning inside you, eventually dribbling down your quivering thighs as your orgasm joins with his own. your noises are so sweet, something he can never get enough of. and the look of you is enough to make him fall in love with you thousands of times over.
✧ he smiles at you, lips colliding messily with yours, admiring how warm your face is as he holds you. “you did so well for me,” he murmurs, breathing in your comforting scent. “my pretty girl.”
۶♡ৎ john price ۶♡ৎ
✧ believe it or not, captain price could be quite the romantic type. though, as a man with such a stoic position as a captain, that side never got much of a chance to reveal itself. unless, of course, he was alone with his favorite woman in the world…
✧ getting to see him in such a rare position felt so special to you. he was so sweet and gentle with you, it always found a way to make you swoon. and you bet price adored having that effect over you.
✧ the fact his mere touch could make you melt beneath him was enthralling, and definitely made him want more. of course, what better way to do that than to spoil you, right? after all, that was his favorite thing to do when he had his time with you.
✧ but it was his absolute favorite when he could be in between your legs, and he could stay there for hours. the feeling of you squirming beneath him had so many ways of making him feral for you, and he knew you loved it when he got to that point.
✧ while his tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, he could feel your hips bucking into his face ever so slightly, your noises growing louder each moment. you could hardly contain yourself any longer, and price adored every second of it.
✧ every few minutes, he would lay sweet kisses over your folds, fingers teasing your entrance from time to time. “sweetheart, you have no idea the things you do to me…” he breathes out, suckling at the sensitive bud again.
✧ your back starts to arch at his words, hands gripping tightly at the sheets. price lets out a satisfied chuckle as his fingers finally push inside your wetness. the feeling of your walls is just as he expects: heavenly. you’re so warm and welcoming to his fingers, it's almost hard for him not to push himself into you as a whole right then and there.
✧ “close already, yeah?” he teases, mouth still working at you, his fingers doing the same. the look in your eye confirms that for him, making his blood rush with excitement as your bottom lip hooks beneath your teeth.
✧ he smirks at you from between your legs. “well, allow me to help with that, angel.” price let his fingers curl inside of you towards your sweet spot, earning a strangled cry from you, your back arching even more.
✧ as his tongue slithered about your wetness, he marveled at the way you tightened around his fingers, especially when you released yourself. you sounded so sweet, and he couldn’t deny he wanted more of that from you.
✧ his lips finally met with yours, pulling your body close to his again. though, he was nowhere near done with you, he knew he wanted to admire you in this pleasure-filled haze just a bit more…
۶♡ৎ alejandro vargas ۶♡ৎ
✧ despite his roughened, at times crass exterior, alejandro had no problem showing his soft, vulnerable side to you and only you. he seldom ever let that gentle side slip outwards in front of just anybody, so you considered yourself lucky to have grown this close to him.
✧ besides, nothing could ever beat having those hypnotic dark eyes and that charming smile of his directed at you, and only you.
✧ but there was something about that certain…look you gave him in these moments that filled him with an endless desire to please you and spoil your body in so many different ways. it was that sweet, almost innocent look with a small lip bite that could make him fold you over in a matter of seconds.
✧ one thing about alejandro is that he preferred when he could take his time with you. he was the last one who wanted a quickie or something short. if he was going to pleasure his love, he was going to make sure you felt it.
✧ so when he has you sprawled out on the bed, cockwarming him as he caresses every inch of you, he can’t help but tease you just a bit from time to time. your whole body responds to him so perfectly, it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. can you really blame him?
✧ “ale…” you mewl out shakily, the feeling of his lips on your neck nearly pushing you over the edge. he smirks at you, hands continuing to massage your breasts. “hmm?” he hums against your skin, still leaving pretty marks all over you.
✧ you can barely even form words in this state. “mmmh, need you…” you stagger, breath hitching as his tongue starts to swirl around your protruding nipple.
✧ “you need to use your words, mi vida.” he presses a kiss to your neck again, taking you by the chin gently so he can stare at you properly. “what do you need from me?”
✧ alejandro’s gaze is soft yet still commanding, easily sending a shiver down your back. you take a breath, cupping his face in your hand. “i…need you to fuck me, please.” you manage, that sweet look that drove him feral still in your eyes.
✧ his lips press messily against you, a hand wrapping around your neck now. “que educada, princesa.” he chuckles, admiring how you tremble beneath him as he starts to move.
✧ his growls only add to your pleasure as he pushes deep inside you, your walls responding with a warm clench, making his grip on your hips tighter. you can feel your orgasm growing closer, moans growing shaky and incoherent.
✧ listening to his name fall so shattered from your lips pushed him over the edge, cum spilling into you as he watched in awe as your legs trembled and you clenched around him a final time.
✧ between warm, breathless kisses, he smiles at you again. “you’re so good to me, amor.” he says, pulling you close to his chest.
۶♡ৎ könig ۶♡ৎ
✧ in all honesty, könig has no idea how he got so lucky to have you. you were everything and more he could’ve ever asked for in a woman.
✧ even though he was far from inexperienced in the world of relationships and intimacy, you had a way of making him feel like it was the first time in every moment he got to spend with you.
✧ but some of his favorite moments came from when he got to spoil you. it didn’t matter if it was taking a lazy day where you stayed home or in bed for hours in the late morning, or if he was taking you out to one of your favorite places, as long as he was in your company, he was more than content.
✧ but if he had to pick an absolute favorite pastime with you… it had to be when he was able to worship you from head to toe.
✧ there was something so enthralling for both of you, having such a large man, in nothing but his boxers, on his knees in front of you, kissing every single inch of you as you sat on the bed, staring down in admiration.
✧ könig’s gentle expression as he looks up at you still has the power to give you butterflies even after being together for so long. the closer his mouth gets to the fabric of your underwear, he gives you a look until you eventually nod, making his lips spread into a smile.
✧ peeling the fabric to the side, his tongue swirls over your wetness. your back arches in response, head falling back as you let a moan escape. hearing you in this state drives him even further, pulling you by your hips against his face.
✧ even when you’re trembling, he continues. your moans have broken down to shaky sobs as he tonguefucks you, his growls vibrating against you. he can’t get enough of your taste, even when you’ve already come for him.
✧ eventually, he pulls away, licking his lips before kissing a trail up your stomach. his eyes stare into yours lovingly, fingers running through your hair.
✧ “you did so well, meine liebe.” he praises, kissing your neck before smirking. “but i’m nowhere near done with you.”
“banphrionsa” = princess, “mi vida” = my life, “que educada, princesa.” = how polite, princess. “meine liebe” = my love.
written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.
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lady-ashfade · 1 year ago
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Our comfort
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Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)
—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.
—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.
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You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.
But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.
The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.
You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.
Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.
Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.
So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.
The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.
Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.
Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.
Many games of all houses take place just for you.
AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.
Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.
When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.
So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.
Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.
He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.
“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 
Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.
When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.
So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?
He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.
You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.
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ribbittrobbit · 8 months ago
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The Devotion of Saint Kristen Applebees
"devoted to [her] mission, is faithful to the call of the gods on [her] life. [She] is willing to sacrifice [her] own interests to those greater interests (...). [She] binds [her] will and [her] heart to that task. This is what it means to be pious."
(bastardization of Alan Jacob, on the origins and early meaning of the term pius)
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e-devotion · 4 months ago
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our anniversary, 31 years
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Day 3 in Cuba
I am still in Cuba and seeing in a remote mountain of southern Cuba.  Thank you for your prayers.
But today is a special day.  Let me share a bit.
Proverbs 18:22  NLT  
The man who finds a wife finds a treasure, and he receives favor from the Lord.
Today marks 31 years that Julie and I have been married, and I share with you today that I see the hand of God over our family.  Julie literally is a treasure to me as well as a gift from God.
There is so much I can share, but one simple thing stands out to me.  I love Julie more today than I did when we first began this journey together.
Happy anniversary, my Julie!
Pray for the entire time in Cuba and the impact that this trip will have!  Thank you for your prayers and support.  The e-devotions will come to you only a few times while I am in Cuba.
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joshmarsh · 2 years ago
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Fear Poisons Your Mind. Christ’s Love Transforms it. #God #GodsWill #Jesus #Christ #Purpose #Calling #Mission #Thursday #Fear #Love #BibleStudy #Devotional #Message #Podcast #Control #GodLovesYou #JesusLovesYou #Quote #QuoteOfTheDay #Quotes #QuotesToLiveBy #ChristianQuotes #Faith #FOMO (at Springfield, Missouri) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqJ1SlCMCvd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago
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You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader
TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry
pt.2
The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.
Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.
Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.
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Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.
"What’s wrong, Johnny?"
"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."
"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.
"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.
"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.
As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.
"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.
"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.
He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."
She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.
Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.
"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."
"Your girlfriend?"
"You won’t tell her a thing."
"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.
"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."
Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."
"Stop."
"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.
"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.
You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.
They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.
"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.
"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.
And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.
"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."
"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.
"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.
"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.
"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.
"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.
"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."
"EY!"
"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.
"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.
"Well, you didn’t, did you?"
"No, love, wait."
"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."
"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.
Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.
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biblebloodhound · 1 year ago
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The Son (Hebrews 1:1-4)
Christianity discerns that all of history hinges on it’s midpoint of the incarnation and birth, life and ministry, death and resurrection, and ascension and glorification of Jesus.
In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for…
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