#jesus christ part or me wonders if they act like this in real life but let's be real they absolutely do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

szagaloree · 2 years ago

Text

His wife….

Chapter 3

Contains: fluff/angst/mentions of death/ ptsd

I stirred in my sleep from a bad nightmare, whimpering in my sleep spider slowly stirred waking up, I lean up shouting as spider jump from being frightened, “mom? Mom hey it’s okay,” he stood up, I gasp trying to catch my breath “it’s okay you’re fine, it was just a bad dream,” he says, “more like a nightmare,” I huff putting my head in my hands, “what was it about?” He asks “some really deep stuff, it’s scary to almost forget you were in the military till your ptsd comes back and bites you in the ass,” I said.

I sighed laying back down, “what do you think our life could be outside of this? Why don’t we just go and be with Jake and the rest?” He asks “the rest?” I raise a brow “Jake a family, they all live in the forest,” he said, “wow I’d sing even know that, that’s crazy,” I cocks a brow, “I don’t know, I can’t just leave they would be hunting us too, we just gotta figure out how we’re gonna get out of here,” I said.

Next day carries on and I was doing some combat training with Raven, spider sat down watching as I tumble Raven down wrapping my legs around her neck, Quaritch walked in wide eyed, “what are you doing kid?” Quaritch asks spider “just watching,” he said, “Jesus Christ you didn’t have to put me down like that,” I laughed pushing her, “you cheated,” Raven said “I didn’t cheat I just beat your ass,” I said, as we tackle again I wrap my ankle over her and push her down. “Aye aye not you tryna jump me,” I laughed as Allen lifts me up, “I wonder if my mom remembers everything, all of her past,” spider says, “probably it depends on what triggers it,” Quaritch says as he watched me.

I went to grab my bow that I got made for me, “when did you get that?” Ellice asks, “earlier, you know had to get my baby back,” I smirked grabbing an arrow, I place it correctly pulling back on the string. I shoot at the target wall almost making a bullseye “traaash!” Raven yells out “hey I almost made a bullseye and it’s been literally years since I’ve used a bow,” I shake my head, I look to my left to check on spider and see him talking to Quaritch but Quaritch was staring at me, his unconsciously glued to mine. I try to look away but my eyes seem to not look back but it got cut short when Raven pushes me, “move you jerk,” I push her back smirking.

…

As I leave spider’s room I head towards mine till I heard a certain somebody call “Corporal” I stopped, Quaritch was leaning on the wall almost as seemingly on purpose. He stares at me, “what?” I said nonchalantly, “it’s awfully lot of things going around about you and they ain’t good,” he said, “you telling me this why?” I question, “I heard you were alongside them and sully, so let me guess.. they got a spy lurking around these parts,” he says leaning off the wall “I’m not know spy, I fight for myself,” I said “what about your son? You just found out that he’s yours and you didn’t even know,” he says, “don’t speak on him, you don’t know everything so stop trying to act like you do,” I said warning him, he cocks a brow “who’s the daddy? Wonder if he’s alive, he must’ve knocked you up for you to have a child on this planet,” he said, I glare at him and walked up to him.

“And you did a pretty good job at,” I said.

I walked away to leave him in his thoughts as he was frozen by what I said he couldn’t tell if I was just making a remark or was I being for real, I walked down the hall sighing, but I realize what I just done I may have exposed him to being spider’s father and if he thinks about it to hard he’ll realize it. “Fuck!” I mumble in annoyance, I made my way close to the quarter but was pulled into a dark room, I tried to pry myself off and fight whoever it was but he had my arms pinned as he shuts the door, I was going to shout but he covered my mouth the lights turn on and it was Quaritch “tell me you’re lying! Tell me I was mistaken by what the hell you said!” He said almost has he wants to me to but knows he wants the answers out, his heart raced anxious and worry but also fear.

“Tell me that kid isn’t mine! Is it?!” I stood quiet as tears falling my face, “you better tell me right now,” he said his jaw clenching tightly, “spider’s your son,” I admitted his grip loosens, his whole heart flipped upside down, “there’s no way…no..I cannot be,” he freaks out “he is.. your son,” I said “when we’re you pregnant?” He asks “before I even died and before you sit up there destroy their hometree and the tree of voices just to piss then off,” I said, “I don’t think you deserve to know everything, after everything you have done,” I said shaking my head, I got to walk but he grabs my wrist “n-no, I need to know!” He says, I sighed I go to the screen and look for my files, “its obvious they wiped some of you memories because of they didn’t you would remember everything,” I said, I pull up my log from the time I was 6 months pregnant, Quaritch stood walking close to the screen.

“Well, here’s a baby bump update, the progress is going good,” I smiled showing my belly off, “I can’t wait to know the gender in fact we just got it today and if this asshole is here, he can read it,” I said looking to look for him “can you look for mikes please?” I asked they nodded, “yesss?” He answers “sit down I told you we were supposed to find out the gender of the baby” I said looking up “oh yea yea yea” he pulls a chair over.

Quaritch eyes widen watching the video in disbelief.

“You read it,” I give him the paper, “I don’t think I’m ready, I’m hoping for a girl,” he says, “now your thoughts is on a girl you said boy,” I chuckled “I don’t know,” he chuckles as he reads, “okay… so it’s a boy!” I squealed excitedly, “ayyyyee, I can teach him some good ole Basketball,” Quaritch smirks, “I’m so happy,” I smiled as Quaritch smiled proudly before pulling me in a kiss.

Once the video ends, “wha-ho-I-oh my god” he felt so lightheaded after watching that video but that wasn’t the only one he needed to see.

“I am Gwen.. Stefani Quaritch,” I said, “I would say I’m surprised to even be here but I guess this is what my job turned into, being on Pandora to be the scientists bodyguards or whatever,” I sighed.

“I was your wife,” I said, he looks at me, “no.. I don’t remember having a wife,” he said “of course you don’t,” I said “but don’t believe me, look at the back of right ear, there will be a infinity tattoo, We both got it after we gotta married I have on my left ear see,” I pull my ear forward to show him, he looks for a mirror or something to try and see. There it was the infinity tattoo, he gulped, “when I was pregnant with spider, I was happy, finally like I could leave and pull away from this rda bullshit! To be free! And I thought you would too, but that was cut short when I died,” I said with tears. He walks up to me “h-how did you die?” He asks.

“I died giving birth to spider… I died giving life,” I said.

His eyes widen, “and you were going to this stupid selfish war against these people and I died alone! Alone miles!” I shoved him, “mom” I gasp looking to see spider, “spider what are you doing up?” I ask, “couldn’t sleep, what’s going on?” He asks looking at us, “n-nothing everything is fine,” I huff wiping my eyes “go back to bed please,” I said, he sighed listening and starts to leave “ I would’ve never left if I knew you were giving birth,” he said “lies! You would’ve still went to war after he came, you don’t care! You were to busy trying to reck havoc to these poor people who want to be alone! We could’ve lived a good live away from this shit miles!” I cried, “I wanted you to change to finally open your eyes stop being stuck on being a marine! This isn’t safe of a child,” I argued, he sighed, “this is all that I know,” he says “being a puppet is all that you know huh? Really? Wow” I shake my head disappointed, “this is all that you think you know! If you are not going to step up and be a damn man to face your demons then you need to stay the hell away from him, you’re not going to turn my son into a heartless killer,” I said leaving him in raining of thoughts, his ears goes down. He didn’t know what to do, now that he knows the truth what is he going to do, change or stay the same?

To be continued…

#mature audiences only #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water #quaritch x oc #quaritchhiswifeoc #spider quaritch #colonel quaritch #na'vi quaritch #neytiri #jake sully

112 notes · View notes

porkcutletbowl44 · 3 months ago

Note

So I will write this ask while reading chapter 16 because my mind is too smooth to do it afterwards.

frist of all, SINCE WHEN CAN YOU TWIST OPEN A BEER BOTTLE BABY GIRL BEER BOTTLES ARE NORMALLY CAPS ONLY THE CHEAP ONE IN PASTIC IS WITH A TWIST OPENING

damn my german ass came out for a sec. But i really think they would have proper beer. The shit in the plastic bottles is piss with the wrong label on it and I don't even like beer to begin with LOL But it seems they are into it which… damn kinda sad but I guess that's a german thing to see cheap beer as a crime 😭💀

God, I love the interactions with the boys sooo much! It's so funny and makes me miss my old friend group. well at least the good parts of it and that wasn't much to being with 🥴

microwaving cereal 😭😭😭 I'm laughing so hard right now omg I never was drunk in my 24 years of living so it always makes me the one who holds the hair or fight of the guys who think they could get a quick fun. No fun with me, I will ruin they're night for good haha Only got tipsy twice and the first time I kinda regret because I didn't register how much the one dude overstep the line with this one girl. Mind you I just met her at the party but she was so sweet. God I would have beaten the living shit out of him. Still hate him to this day and he is a close friend of my cousin which is like a sister to me. Damn sorry for the rant LOL

NO HE DOES NOT ACT LIKE THIS MY GOD THIS MAN MAKES ME SO MAD I never wanted to punch a character in a fic so much as I want to punch Simon. Wtf is he thinking? Mf was cheating, is engaged with another woman who makes our life way too hard and he thinks it's all fine and dandy to tell us that WE are selfish??????

Jesus fucking Christ, Keegan needs to punch the shit out Simon. Holy moly macaroni i'm so mad

"Rank ain't gonna save you from a broken nose."

OMG JUST DO IT! BEAT HIM OMG PLS

I don't get it. I DON'T HIM! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS MAN

of course Keegan is a sweet boy like always. How he can hold back not to give us small kisses is beyond me but ok. Well maybe because I'm someone who gives affection to everyone that is close to me, be it friends or family.

YES MY FAVORITE DADDY IS FINALLY HERE! Was about time that Price is joining! God, he is so sweet. He always reminds me of a Berniece Mountain dog! Big, gentle, protective and efficient at work. They are one of my fav dogs so maybe I'm a bit biased haha

wow, the fact that he called it out all those years ago? John knows Simon really well. We should have listened to him more. On the other hand, he also said, Simon would never hurt us and now look at this mess. My God, I just feel so sorry for our girl.

Jesus every time we get a flashback of better times... I makes heart so heavy. This story feels so real, like we're a fly on the wall that watches a tragedy unfold.

Please give me a man like Price, he is such a sweet mew mew

not me almost crying at his little speech of how much he cares for her 😭😭

Song recommendation: Another Life - Motionless in White

HIIIII! it's wonderful hearing from you again I hope all is well! 🫶🏻💛

Tbh, I did a little research about beer in the UK, and some of it is similar to the US aluminum caps lol

And, I'm not sure if you read chapter 17 yet, so I'll refrain from commenting on the Simon rant to avoid spoilers 🫠

Peepaw Price cures depression for FREE. that's free therapy and I'm taking it!! 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

(MOTIONLESS IN WHITE MENTION RAAAAHHHHHHHHHH💖💖💖)

#thanks anon!#anons welcome #YIPPE RANTS

2 notes · View notes

aurorawest · 1 year ago

Text

Reading update, part 2

The Perplexing Theft of the Jewel in the Crown by Vaseem Khan - 4/5 stars

All the Way Happy by Kit Coltrane - DNF

Couldn't get past the fact that it was blatantly Drarry fanfiction that had had the serial numbers filed off. It was seriously distracting. I don't have an issue with fic authors doing that (I'M ONE OF THEM), but this read like a find and replace had been done on the names, and nothing else had been changed. If the prose hadn't been so overwrought I might have enjoyed it, but the combination of Drarry AU + purple prose was just too cringey for me.

Total Creative Control by Joanna Chambers and Sally Malcolm - 5/5 stars

Ahhhhh I loved this book. I've only read Chambers's historical fiction so I was curious what this would be like, and it was so good. So so good.

Also, sometimes my wife says stuff and I'm like 'that's not a real thing that English people say, that's probably some weird thing her family says.' But then I'll read it in a book by an English person and I am schooled. Anyway that happened several times in this book.

The Name Bearer by Natalia Hernandez - DNF

I don't mind a slow-paced book but there was just so much info dumping in the first chapter, when chapter 2 started with more info dumping, I gave up.

Crossroads by Riley Hart - DNF

This book started with a description of the main character's apartment. There wasn't anything special about it, nor was it described in a unique way. I DNFed halfway through page 2. I know I have another Riley Hart book sitting in my TBR, which I will be digging out bringing to my local bookstore's used book buyback.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner - 4.5/5 stars

Did Not Expect to enjoy this one. I got this in an IllumiCrate and I just remember the little blurby thing you get where the author talks about the book saying something about how she loves angry women. I'm over it. Angry is not a personality! Stop writing women who are angry and thinking you've written a well-rounded character!

But actually this book was really good! Predictable, but a good read. Unusually, my favorite character was the child. It helped that she had an adorable hare/bird/deer god of white lies following her around.

Tommy Cabot Was Here by Cat Sebastian - 5/5 stars

I love Sebastian's regency romances but I might love this series more. This is a very, very quick read (right around 100 pages) but she's just so good at creating these wonderful, fully-realized characters that you love from the first sentence.

As You Walk on By by Julian Winters - 2/5 stars

So at this point I think I have to concede that Julian Winters is not the author for me. He's constantly lauded as this wonderful writer whose books will make you smile for days. This is the third one I've read and I nearly DNFed it. The only thing that kept me going, ironically, was that I really liked the love interest and was rooting for them to get together. Typically I find the romances in Julian Winters books to be very flat and un-swoony. This one was actually quite nice though.

But the main character. Jesus Christ. He's SO annoying. Him and his shitty BFF who he falls out with deserve each other, honestly. There's only so many times I can sympathize with you because you have a comfortable, middle-class life and you go to a fancy pants private school, but waaaaah sometimes your friends don't say exactly the right thing about you being queer. Also having your MC tell the teenage girl who gets slut-shamed, gossiped about, and sexually harassed everywhere she goes that actually she doesn't have it as bad because she's white was...an interesting touch.

And idk if the Youth actually act and talk the way the teenagers do in this book, but if they do, I'm very glad I don't know any teenagers.

Why did I rate this book 2 stars instead of 1? Oh! I really liked Luca. He deserved a better book. And I liked River a lot, too. And the fact that this was clearly a take on The Breakfast Club was fun, just...not executed as well as I would have liked.

Part 1

#total creative control #joanna chambers #sally malcolm #godkiller #hannah kaner #tommy cabot was here #cat sebastian #reading tag

7 notes · View notes

gatekeeper-watchman · 1 year ago

Text

Daily Devotionals for December 14, 2023

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for the Day Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 30:18-19 (KJV): 18 There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not: 19 The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship amid the sea; and the way of a man with a maid. Proverbs 30:18-19 (AMP): 18 There are three things which are too wonderful for me, yes, four which I do not understand: 19 The way of an eagle in the air, the way of a serpent upon a rock, the way of a ship amid the sea, and the way of a man with a maid.

Thought for the Day

Verses 18-20 - These verses state that four things are very wonderful and yet mysterious: how an eagle flies; how a serpent slithers; how a ship sails; and how a man and woman are attracted to one another. Solomon respected these observations by Agur and included them in his book. We all wonder at times why things are the way they are. The only and final answer is that God created them to act this way. God's creation is truly amazing and we can learn many things by observing it.

Verse 19 - The Eagle: This bird mounts up on thermal air currents to soar at amazing heights. It must have puzzled the ancients to watch them ascend, barely flapping their wings. They are not afraid of storms, which create the best wind currents - they fly high above them. The eagle is a symbol of overcoming Christians who rise above life's storms by waiting upon the Lord. "But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles..." (Isaiah 40:31). This is one of my favorite verses. I have claimed it many times when I have been so weary that I did not think I could not go on. The Lord has never failed to give me the strength that I need when I ask Him in faith to help me. This scripture states that those who "wait upon the Lord" shall renew their strength. What does it mean to "wait upon the Lord?" Certainly, the first application of this would be to wait upon the Lord's timing, and to wait for Him to show us what to do; however, there is also another application to the meaning. When we dine in a restaurant, a "waiter" comes to our table to serve us or "wait on us." When we are committed to serving God, then we are "waiting on Him;" therefore, we will be given the strength for the task He has given us to do. Even young men who do not know the Lord, will not have the strength that we are given when we obey Christ's commands.

The Serpent: A snake's bones, muscles, and plates on the skin of its belly enable it to move on land without limbs. From Genesis 3 we find that the serpent did not always slither, but was created to walk as a beast. After its part in tempting Adam and Eve to sin, God reduced it to crawling on its belly, eating dust (Genesis 3:14-15). The devil, called "the serpent," preys on men who were made of dust and crawl in the dirt of sin until they are "born again" and then the Lord causes them to rise spiritually and fly like eagles.

A Sailing Ship: The third thing that Agur mentions that amazed him is how a ship can sail in the ocean. There are physical laws that God set in motion on the earth that govern all things. These are verifiable scientific laws. In the case of a ship floating in the ocean, the laws that affect it are the law of gravity; the law of motion; the laws of nature; and the laws of the universe. Just looking at the size and weight of a boat (especially when we see warships constructed from megatons of steel) floating in liquid-like water, it looks impossible. However, when one understands the invisible laws that govern such a feat, then it becomes possible. In the Bible, we are asked to believe in spiritual things and things we cannot see; yet, we know they are real because we understand the law of faith and the law of life in Christ Jesus (Matthew 19:26).

A Man With A Maid: The fourth thing that was "too wonderful" for Agur was "the way of a man with a maid." The way a man and woman are attracted to one another and "fall in love" is a wonderful gift that God gave to men and women. Erotic and sexual love was designed by God, but it has limits and boundaries attached to it. It is to only be entered into within the bonds of matrimony. The devil has come against this husband-and-wife relationship by perverting it and causing men to indulge in it illegally. We find adulterers, fornicators, and homosexuals, (where men are sexually attracted to men, and women to women.) God is the one who sets the standard for a marriage relationship and when men start trying to redefine marriage, they are setting themselves up to take the place of God, which is idolatry. The beautiful relationship, of love and marriage, between a man and a woman, is a type of our relationship with Christ; and that is a very holy thing (Ephesians 5:23-27).

Prayer Devotional for the Day Dear heavenly Father, you are amazing! I stand in awe of Your great creation. Lord, your plans for mankind were good and perfect, and we have messed it up because of our sins. Forgive us, Lord, and use us and help us now to restore and correct those things the devil has used to destroy Your beautiful creation. Give us grace to pray and reach out to those around us with the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Change us to be like You, and use us to change this world and bring about the kingdom of God on the earth. I ask in the name of Jesus. Amen. From: Steven P. Miller@ParkermillerQ, gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, Wednesday, December 13, 2023, Jacksonville, Florida., USA. X ... @ParkermillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA

3 notes · View notes

gifsbysimplysonia · 7 days ago

Note

I am not one who usually goes for traditional enemies-to-lovers because a lot of those stories start out with such strong, fundamental disrespect (not playful or fun or obvious covering up of attraction lol) that it hurts my heart for whoever is receiving that and I'm like, nevermind cuz how do you build something real after this?

And if I read that Ransom is involved, I'm like, oh dear. Cuz if ANYONE has a mouth to say things that will cut to the heart and can't be taken back? It's him. And I was pleasantly surprised to come across this story and try it out (cuz Ransom lol) and REALLY enjoy it.

Because Ransom is FULL of piss, vinegar and rancor for his soulmate. The entire build up to the first time we get to see/meet her, good LORDT, he is spitting pure unadulterated dislike. She's everything he doesn't want but they are legally bound to each other and neither can do anything about that. But, isn't it funny how he spends paragraphs disparaging her lack of wealth or appearance or personality ... only to end up wondering where she is because he saw her mug wasn't on the shelf and then realized he hadn't seen her in days? Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike as SOON as I read that, I was giggling to myself cuz I KNEW! The boy got got.

What’d you do to his couch? Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house? Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

LAUGHED OUT LOUD!

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

Mmmhmm. SAD. You're sad, Ransom, but your perv self is stuck in that doorway watching the blanket fall down her body. Liarrrrrrrrr.

Why listen to this awful shit instead of show off him as your husband? From the quick shiver racing down your spine and the curl of your toes where they hang over the cushion’s edge, it’s because you’re fucking horny for it. Good god, how low are your standards?

He honestly makes me CACKLE because he's like SO MANY PEOPLE who look down on romance writing lol but he somehow thinks HE is worthy of being shown off / makes a weird competition between her audio romance novel and him. He legit wants to know why he doesn't rank with her like this audio novel does. But he wants to ignore/forget her ... sure, Ransom. Suuuuuuuuuuuuure.

Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

That's an incredible sentence lol

This quickly evolves into some delicious smut because he is trying to act like he hates it almost the WHOLE time but his lies are so transparent. And then the fact he is in the middle of The Deed with his soulmate and the audiobook is still playing causing him to say this:

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

Again, LAUGHED OUT LOUD! But that leads to this

A giggle bursts from your lips, a sweet, happy sound he’s never heard from you before, and you reach for him. Your palm lands on his soulmark, your fingers curling to scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, and there’s…there’s…

which is so sweet and obviously overwhelming for Ransom too.

This is just a sentence that is so well constructed and impactful

He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

And more just really well written introspection on Ransom's part

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either. Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

GUT PUNCHED. I find myself wanting to quote like the whole ending section because it's just really beautiful but still has that essence of Ransom because though he is fundamentally changed, he is STILL BEING HIS BITEY A-HOLE SELF.

REALLY REALLY loved this piece. TYSM for creating and sharing @ronearoundblindly

I am sorry but I'm going to need a Ransom story with this prompt. It can be RoaR or a one-off, he can love it or hate it in this space, he can see it over Reader's shoulder on the computer screen, your choice!

o.0 oh boi oh boi oh boi! Fall Vibes but it's gonna be my summer challenge submission to @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar, featuring the flavors Cookies and Cream (soulmates) and Rocky Road (rags to riches) with the topping Oreos (marriage of convenience (reluctantly)). Also my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza, featuring a babe in love and cranky about it + "can you just...hold me please?"

For Show Ransom Drysdale x poor!soulmate!reader

Summary: Ransom hates that you--his soulmate and wife--are nothing like him.

Warnings for smut and Ran's a**hole brain (rude, nasty thoughts that he barely even believes). Classic Lexi--this is cheeky, y'all, but you know it's because I can't help myself... MINORS DNI. Find all-age friendly fic on my Light Masterlist. WC 2.1k

Ran didn’t believe in love to start, but this is fucking ridiculous. Opposites attract? Get wrecked, asshole. He’s keeping opposites on the other side of the house. It’s not far enough.

It’s standard practice for the confirmation of matching soulmarks to act as a de facto marriage contract—common law, if you like,—and Ransom Drysdale fought tooth and nail to make you prove you had his name on you. He needed to see it with his own eyes or fuck that shit.

His is obvious; he can show it off. In fact, Ran is surprised by how long it took you to come forward, considering his family and status, considering his lifestyle of being very visible.

But no, he had to wait for a fucking database to pop out record of his match from your healthcare provider, and he had wait for that because the government knew about your health…because they know such things…about people who need their fucking money. The registration of soulmarks puts the financial responsibility on the soulmate if they end up having the means.

Now Ran is responsible for you, a woman he made lower the front of her panties in open court to reveal his goddamn name in his own goddamn handwriting imprinted right above her goddamn cunt, and suddenly it became his cunt, his problem, his responsibility.

You’re not even fun. You had no money and didn’t care to have any, so you moved your few, ratty belongings into his home, replacing nothing, offering nothing in return for his—well, in return for every fucking thing he has now being yours, too. It’s so fucked.

You don’t want to show off, and he has no intention of showing you off. He can’t be seen with you, not without the proper clothes or jewelry, and you refused to get them. Instead, Ransom leaves you alone in the house, doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants, as always. He won’t talk to you because he just gets furious every time. He’s not going to have deep conversations about the state of the world, though he might have one social justice issue he can fight for: the mother-fucking law that made you his wife without question.

Ran slams the kitchen cabinet storing all-white, matching stoneware mugs when he notices what’s missing: your single, sad, flea market mug. It’s clay so it always looks dirty, and he hates it.

He lightly punches his own neck in irritation.

He didn’t stand a chance fighting the marriage, not with your name in deep, port red letters creeping up his throat, higher than any turtleneck he’s ever owned. Coupled with his legal name resting snuggly beneath your pubes, it was obviously, technically accurate that you’re soulmates. When was the last time someone challenged that system, he thinks. That might be a better use of his money than—

Where are you anyway?

For all his annoyance, he hasn’t set eyes on you for days.

His house is large enough (and he spends so much time anywhere else) that you have your own room, which you didn’t question, and the kitchen is easy enough to share when one of you eats out with other people (as he does two to three times a day). You get the slightly bigger and more formal living room while Ran gets the den with the big TV. Really it’s been the perfect system for almost forgetting you exist.

He pours tea into his clean, white mug and leaves said big TV fairly loud on some program he wasn’t paying attention to, leaning over the granite countertop to see if he can spot you from this angle.

No luck.

He steps closer, sipping.

A little closer, more sipping, a purposeful smack of his lips to grab your attention if you are just around the corner.

There are two openings, both far larger than doorways, to the living room, each through the central hall. When he doesn’t immediately see you, he steps to the farther opening. What the—

What’d you do to his couch?

Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house?

Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

What, the fucking fireplace wasn’t enough ambiance for you? You had to make some sort of nest with his stuff? And there’s that ugly-ass mug, no coaster, on his super-expensive, reclaimed hardwood coffee table.

A pillow shifts.

No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen.

You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him.

He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either.

“”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”

You sigh dreamily and wiggle on the cushions. The blanket slides over the swell of your ass.

Ran stops moving mid-sip of tea.

“”Please, my darling, let me have you—“ this is fucking terrible, he thinks “—as only a lover can.””

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

“Chloe felt his digits dance across her clavicle, his eyes enchanted by her heaving bosom…”

Go out to a club or restaurant with him? No. Wear nice clothes he could buy you? Nope.

“”Javi,” she gasps, distracted by his rough palm groping her breast hungrily, “I can’t believe you want me.””

Ran is going to fucking gag at the whining appall in the narrator’s voice.

Good god, how low are your standards?

He stalks forward, feet hitting the floor hard until he reaches the plush rug.

Startled, you peer over your shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, and you begin scrambling to recover yourself.

Ran puts his cup down by yours. “Don’t move,” he orders, and to his surprise, you obey, keeping you head turned his direction and sinking back into the pillows.

“”How could you doubt? From the moment I met you, I adored you.””

He swivels to face the same direction as you, reaches out his hand and mime the stroke he’s contemplating tracing over your curves.

“”I’m yours,” Chloe breathes, Javier’s growing member signaling his desire against her silk-covered core.”

Ran finally bends until the tip of his middle finger grazes the inside of your thigh.

As he drags it over one cheek and down the other, you whine and push your ass toward his hand.

That’s…not bad, all things considered. You are his wife, after all, and you clearly want to be fucked. He won’t argue that having some other woman’s name scrawled on him hasn’t limited his game for quite a while. Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

He stops noticing the audio from your phone and just dives in, no sentiments or kind words of his own. He simply unbuckles his belt, pops the button of this jeans, and rips that zipper down before teasing your folds to find enough slick at your entrance to swirl around. He spreads you and your wetness with purpose. Each second that passes drives Ransom a little bit more insane.

Impatient, strung out like a virgin on prom night, he rushes to shove his pants out of the way and kicks one knee up between your legs, his other foot still on the floor. He pumps his fingers inside you until he’s knuckle-deep and nearly dripping, manhandling your hips to the right height to sink his tip into you.

Ran groans at how fucking good you feel. He’s probably just desperate. He’d be excited about any ol’ means to come right now.

He snaps his hips in small thrusts until his whole length glides in and out in seamless stimulation. You’ve buried your face in the pillow, so he can’t hear if you make any noise. He can, however, see your hands scratch at the upholstery and clench into fists. He can see you deepen the arch of your back, angling his dick to fuck just slightly down through your channel. The pressure squeezes the spongy head of his cock like a vice. He’ll never say it out loud, but your pussy is fucking perfect. God fucking dammit.

Ransom relentlessly drives into you, catching the sideview of your breasts bouncing each time his thighs slap yours. He smacks your ass once just to see if it jiggles for him, and that’s when your hand snakes to disappear between your legs. He expects you’re going for your clit which is good because he’s about to get off and get lost, but instead, he feels your soft fingers cup his balls.

He’s so enamored by the sensation that he switches to tiny pulses deep in your cunt while your hand wraps and rolls his sac gently. Twitching and tensing, Ran unabashedly moans until your walls constrict around his length.

He’s got to make you do that again.

Ransom collapses forward to lean over you, his own hand diving to find your clit, resting his palm right over your mound and soulmark. Every inch of his body burns hot with need. He humps wildly, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“”I don’t care how, Javi, just stick it in there. I need you. I need you so badly…””

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

He can’t comprehend how your body fits his so well. He can’t reconcile this sudden swell of obsession in his gut for you. He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

Ran doesn’t believe in love or destiny. He refuses. He believes in pleasure and perception, in accumulation and ownership.

The only thought left in his static-filled head is mine, mine, mine, mine.

He falls over the edge first, a satisfied shout punctuating each spurt he plants within you, furiously working your messy clit and kneading one breast in his free hand until he feels that squeeze again, and again, and again, dying to a flutter just as your shared cum leaks out around his cock.

By this time, Ran is panting and resting a sizable portion of his weight on you, knees knocked loose in his onslaught, pushing you both flat to the chaise cushion, feet dangling off the end.

You still hold each other’s mark in a comforting palm.

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either.

Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

He makes the mistake of peeling his body off yours, releasing you and dislodging your hand. The cold emptiness which immediately sweeps over him is sickening, and Ran barely waits for you to roll onto your back before he wedges himself between your legs again, instinctually laying on his side, pressing his sweater-clad shoulder against your sopping folds just so he can rest his soulmark right on top of yours.

Euphoria returns to his body and mind, thick like honey and all-consuming.

He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to talk about. He doesn’t want to live a moment without you.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mercifully, the audio speaks for him.

“”Can you just…hold me please? That was…that was…””

“”So intense,” Javier rumbles, “so beautiful.””

Ransom, the preening trust fund baby, has finally found something all his own, something he doesn’t want to share, something shown only for him.

He refuses, however, to call it ‘love’…

…yet.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I'm fine.

#feedback #ransom drysdale #fan fiction

227 notes · View notes

shammah8 · 7 months ago

Text

RHAPSODY OF REALITIES

📅 SUN. 26TH MAY 2024

MANIFESTING THE GLORY OF THE KINGDOM

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord; and thy saints shall bless thee. They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power; To make known to the sons of men his mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom (Psalm 145:10-12).

Pastor Chris Says

━━━━━━━━━━

Our opening verse tells us something striking about God’s Kingdom that we’re a part of: it’s a Kingdom with glory and power! A word I’d like to elaborate on is “glory.” The Bible says God’s saints shall speak of His glory. It also says they’ll make known the glorious majesty of His Kingdom. But what does glory mean?

Many times, people use the term “glory” without knowing what it really means. Glory is that which inspires, produces or causes honour. When something happens and that thing causes you to give honour, admiration and respect to another, that thing is said to be glorious.

Therefore, to say a meeting was glorious means that it inspired people to worship the Lord; they were inspired to praise Him. The meeting caused the attendees to respond in honour of God.

When Jesus turned water to wine at a wedding ceremony, the Bible says, “This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth his glory; and his disciples believed on him” (John 2:11). When they saw what He did by turning water to wine, they were amazed. He manifested forth His glory, and His disciples believed in Him. They honoured and revered Him.

Now, you can understand when the Bible says, “They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom…” (Psalm 145:11). What’s in the Kingdom of God that we’re talking about? It’s a kingdom where sickness isn’t real, where defeat doesn’t exist; it’s a kingdom where life and immortality reign.

This is the Kingdom of God that we’re born into in Christ. 1 Peter 2:9 (AMPC) says, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a dedicated nation, [God's] own purchased, special people, that you may set forth the wonderful deeds and display the virtues and perfections of Him Who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.” As you walk in the light of who you are in Christ, you’re showing forth the glory of the Kingdom

🙏 P R A Y E R

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dear Father, thank you for the glory of your Word in my life. You’ve called me into your glorious Kingdom, making me a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light! I walk in your glory, dominion and power today, manifesting your excellence to my world, in Jesus’ Name. Amen.

📖 FURTHER STUDY:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Isaiah 60:1; Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the LORD is risen upon thee.

Romans 8:19; For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God.

John 2:11 AMPC; This, the first of His signs (miracles, wonderworks), Jesus performed in Cana of Galilee, and manifested His glory [by it He displayed His greatness and His power openly], and His disciples believed in Him [adhered to, trusted in, and relied on Him].

1 note · View note

riverdamien · 8 months ago

Text

Climbing the Stairs-Up and Down

The Stairway of Religious Trauma-Walking Up and Down!

"For I handed on to you as of first importance what I also received and in which you also stand that Christ died for our sins in accordance to the Scriptures; that he was buried; that he appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve. After that, he seemed more than five hundred brothers and sisters at once.

"Jesus I often feel like I am lost in a swamp where there is no foothold, I float aimlessly, wounded and hungry. Nurse me with food of mercy even when I resist such nourishment. From the watering depths. I weep. Draw me out of the abyss, dry my wounds, and guide me to dry land" . . ., this is a prayer I often pray, when I find myself falling into the swamp of the trauma of religion through which I work, my own, and of my guys. There are days I am up on the stairs, others I am way down! No medication, or having tons of therapy as I have had, will fix that, it is living the questions!

In the last couple of days, there has been news from the United Methodist General Conference over the change in the laws concerning homosexuality, the laws which have split the denomination, and seeing them change is a hopeful sign. Still, the reality of my trauma, while coming from the United Methodist Church, and the trauma of my youth stems from the overall dogma of churches in general. The major denominations which have become open to queers, change their laws and appear to move on.

It is primarily because their leadership is straight. You give people rights, and everything is then okay, but the reality there are centuries of abuse and trauma left behind.

Like with all minority groups, unless you are a part of one, who has undergone discrimination, you truly do not understand. One can be an ally, and yet at night walk home and forget about where the other stands. One has to live it, to suffer it, to truly understand!

In the last couple of days, my trauma has been pricked, and I feel a lot of darkness, darkness over the "friends" and "family" I once had, and I wonder what my life would have been like if I had been raised as straight or in a way sexual identity was simply a part of life. Like an alcoholic, I was almost 30 before coming out, and so stuck in my adolescence and acted like a fifteen-year-old. I had to grow up. It has been only in the last few years that I am no longer afraid, of the mistakes I have made, ones I still cry over, but more than anything related to myself is the darkness over the hundreds of people who have come through my ministry in the last thirty years, on the street and off, that religious groups have abused. I have sat with many who have cut their wrists, are so depressed, and have lives torn apart, all over the interpretation of a religious group's interpretation of the Bible, written two thousand years ago. I cry suffer, and go sleepless nights, remembering their pain, and where many wound up--on the streets, the morgue, living very lonely lives with really no understanding of themselves, hooked on drugs and alcohol.

Many throw the baby out with the bathwater when they throw the Church out of their lives they throw Jesus out as well, but my relationship with Christ teaches me his way of love, Jesus is a real presence in my life, and as Desmond Tutu tells us the heart of the teaching of Jesus, giving life is:

"We are each made for goodness and compassion. Our lives are transformed as much as the world is when we live with these truths."

Reading comments regarding a new certificate in writing on a memoir, Stanford had developed, one stood out, "I am a good person, my life is boring, you have to live a dysfunctional life to be in this class." And I wondered and (LMAO) what is this person hiding from, because all of us are wounded, we all live in houses that have broken ceilings, and we all suffer.

It matters not what God, if any, one believes in, we are called to live with love and compassion. All else falls by the wayside when we do that! Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

=================================================================================

Fr. River Damien Sims, D.Min., D.S.T.,Director

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

www.temenos.org

425-305-2124

Please give: Pay pal, or check

0 notes

jdgo51 · 11 months ago

Text

Holy Places of Hurt

Today's inspiration comes from:

She Speaks Fire

By Mariela Rosario

"Ideally, the church should be the one place where we can live authentically, without fear, as a community, but that’s not some people’s experience.

Just as Jesus experienced before His crucifixion, the deepest bruises and bloodiest beatings often come at the hands of church people, not sinners. Let me stop before anyone gets it twisted. I can tell you that I fundamentally, wholeheartedly, and unapologetically love God’s house. Not one part of me is a church hater or a church skeptic. I believe in, trust, and need the holiness and sanctity the church represents as the bride of Christ, and I’m here for it all day, every day — not just on Sundays.

But I’d be lying if I told you the church hasn’t sometimes looked more like the enemy of Christ than the bride of Christ. And my purpose in talking openly about a typically swept-under-the-rug conversation is not to bash or hurt the church but to follow the model of the garden.

Then God said to the man, ‘I commanded you not to eat from that tree. But you listened to your wife and ate from it. So I will curse the ground because of you. You will have to work hard all your life for the food the ground produces’. — Genesis 3:17 ERV

When Adam and Eve sinned, God didn’t curse them; He cursed the ground. After He exposed their sin, He told Adam that because of his sin, he would have to work harder, against thorns and thistles. When sin comes into our communities of worship today, God doesn’t curse us; He exposes our sins and tells us we’re going to have to get to work too, and we, too, will have “thorny” issues to face. God didn’t shy away from exposing the sin in the first community, and I’m here for a real, honest conversation about sin in our communities as well.

Power, position, and authority can make people do crazy things, say crazy things, and act in crazy ways and end up victimizing people worse than the world can outside the church walls. People expect blows of manipulation, abuse, and neglect from the world, but they don’t expect them in the name of their God. It changes something in the minds and hearts of believers when they experience their deepest pain in the house of God. It’s not just church hurt they must deal with; it’s a spiritual violation of the sacred relationship between the Father and His kids.

Faith is the very fabric of the church, and when people are broken and bleeding at the hands of people they’d expected to trust, asking them to trust again in a faith community can be nearly impossible.

A few years after starting She Speaks Fire, I shared coffee with a woman who was so deeply traumatized by church hurt that she vowed never to be part of a church community again. Let’s call her Ingrid. As she shared her shame story, she repeated a saying I had heard before but didn’t fully understand until that moment: church hurt is the worst hurt.

I listened quietly as she shared how she had been a leader at a church for almost fifteen years before she found out a shameful truth about her pastor. The so-called shepherd she was following showed himself to be a wolf. For over ten years he had been having an affair with a young woman in their church. It resulted in pregnancy. As Ingrid’s story unraveled in front of me, she wrestled with the incredulous detail that other people knew and suspected over the course of the past decade, but they were too afraid to speak. To some, her pastor was a benevolent and compassionate leader, and to others he was a tyrannical monster. To Ingrid, he was the former, and seeing him as a wolf brought an onslaught of anger, confusion, disappointment, and sadness. In the moment of his exposure, she looked around and wondered if others were real or just more wolves in disguise. If it was possible for the shepherd of the house to abuse those entrusted to his care, she wondered who could really be trusted in that place.

When spiritual abuse like this man’s is exposed in a church, everyone is exposed. This wasn’t just a man to Ingrid; he was her trusted and beloved pastor, mentor, and father figure. When he fell publicly, she, along with thousands of others, felt the rocking and shaking of the house. He was removed from all levels of leadership, and while Ingrid agreed with the removal, she was unprepared for the shame, panic, rage, and frailty that came as a result. One Sunday she was taking notes from his preaching from the pulpit, and the next he and his pregnant victim were gone from sight and all conversations. Hers was a story of abandonment and betrayal all wrapped up in one messy chapter in her church’s history.

God wants His sons and daughters to come back to His Son to experience a one-on-one encounter with a real Savior who could silence their shame once and for all.

At the end of her story, she told me she couldn’t go back to church because she didn’t believe it was even possible to survive as a church community after such a loss and betrayal. The sin wasn’t hers, but she felt the shame of association as a member of his church.

Did she weep for a man she had put her faith in? Yes.

Did she despise him for the choices he had made that painfully brought shame to everyone connected to him? Yes.

Did she want him back and at the same time want him to stay away? Yes.

Did she hurt and turn against fellow congregants because his decisions had forced them all to make decisions on what would happen next to their community? Yes.

Did she have to hold the pieces of her own heart while healing the hearts of those around her? Yes.

Did she believe the end of his story as her pastor translated to the end of her in that community?

Yes.

Was she wrong? Yes.

I gave her a tissue and wiped my own tears away. Then I reminded her that God removes people and things in a church community because it’s what’s best for the church as a whole, not the church as individuals. His vantage point from Heaven gives God a wider perspective to help communities make the difficult decisions to expose church hurts before those hurts become church culture.

There was peace for Ingrid instead of shame when she accepted that her pastor had to be removed because the culture he had begun to value was not that of the Kingdom. Yes, she hurt in the process, but I encouraged her to go back to God’s house so that a grace to heal, a grace to be truly seen, and a grace to be truly loved by God could be birthed from their communal pain.

If you’ve been part of a church community like Ingrid’s that has known the bloodshed and pain of spiritual manipulation, abuse, or neglect, I need you to know it may have changed you, but it didn’t change God. It didn’t change the fact that His house is still the body of Christ where people come to experience a one-on-one encounter with the real God of redemption and grace.

I can tell you this with full confidence and authority because sin and shame in the garden may have changed Adam and Eve, but it didn’t change God.

The first sin didn’t change the fact that God still, millennia later, wants His sons and daughters to come back to His Son to experience a one-on-one encounter with a real Savior who could silence their shame once and for all.

Just because you or I had an encounter with one of His sheep who went astray doesn’t mean God went astray too. He didn’t fail you and He didn’t forsake you. Your purpose didn’t change because your community got shaken or torn down. You’re going to heal and you’re going to move forward. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but you will heal.

Your community needs you to heal because they need you. We need you. We don’t need you because of what you do or what titles you carry; we need you because our communities can exist in health only when we choose to fight for interdependence instead of conforming to isolation. That is, when we see the value in ourselves, the value in one another, and the value in who we are together.

Close your eyes and see yourself being seen and known within an authentic community.

See your community strong and healthy.

Envision being part of a community that reflects genuine interdependence instead of isolation.

Imagine a community of people who know that nakedness of soul and spirit is a gift, not a punishment or a curse. Let yourself have faith again in a community that is healed and actively working to heal from past hurts and traumas. Now, open your eyes, wipe your tears, and go build it.

Garden Prayer

Father, You know the pain and longing of my heart for genuine godly community. You walk with me when I have no community, broken community, and whole community. You have seen the parts of me that hide, run, fight, and question in skepticism. I’m thankful that these places in me don’t surprise You or remove me from community with You.

Help me rebuild community again the same way You rebuilt community after the fall with Adam and Eve. I release every place of shame that has created walls of isolation and ask that You show me how to keep releasing shame to You as I move through these Garden Lessons. I surrender all my hurts to You because I know You can make me whole.

For all the healing You have done so far and for all You have yet to do in me, I thank You. Make my heart ready so that the community You see is the community I build. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.

Speaking Fire into Your Community

I declare that isolation and fear will not lead me away from the gift of community [Isaiah 41:10].

Even in my hurt, I will not doubt the Lord’s ability to heal [Psalm 69:20].

I choose today to rejoice with the truth and always protect, always trust, always hope, always persevere [1 Corinthians 13:6–7].

Excerpted with permission from She Speaks Fire by Mariela Rosario, copyright Mariela Rosario.

0 notes

birdsinmywalls · 1 year ago

Text

Part 8?! 18+????!!!! LETS GOO

“just the remains of smoke in the air and an irritated assistant picking up sticky bottles.” I love your details

“Eddie doesn’t buy it, however, because he’s leaning in closer, alcohol and mint-coated breath fanning across your face as he calmly asks, “Then what did he say?” My man’s you are crazy! You have no claim over this woman! You have blown every shot in the book even when you had opportunities to make things right or be honest? You act like a jerk! It’s your own fault you are mad right now my brother in Christ

“Come on, man, you’re on in 30.” Richie waves his hand.” This countdown is funny because I’ve never been to a concert that has run on time so it makes me wonder if they actually do them in real life

“Just don’t go anywhere for the first few songs, okay?” Ahhh! The boys WERE dropping hints last chapter I love it

James grabbing her jacket for her is so sweet. Also I can’t believe she actually left! I thought she would at least stay for the new songs!

Burgers and an arcade? That’s a dream date

“and it made your stomach twist because— fuck, this is a date. You aren’t here as just friends.” Your stomach twisting is the wrong reaction bestie!!! Shows you aren’t interested. If you were you would be so excited over all these things

“Yeah, I kind of figured when you avoided holding my hand.” Aww he’s such a sweet guy it’s a shame really

“It’s Eddie, isn’t it?” Sweet and perceptive? We love James he’s just not Eddie. I’m also glad he said there isn’t any hard feelings

“When you turn the corner, you find yourself wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole because right outside of your door stands Eddie Munson” Jesus Christ this fucking guy! I’m running out of ways to explain myself here lol

“Jesus Christ, the audacity of this man.” That’s what I’m saying!!

“And fuck, this is insane.” This is insane!! What the fuck is going on!!

“I wasn’t done saying sorry.” Eddie pants against your lips,” dude you are going to be saying sorry for the rest of your life after what you put her through

“What’s the matter, princess? Find something you like, hm?” Eddie can’t help the way his voice shakes” he’s cocky through and through but the fact that his voice is shaking but still trying to have all this bravado is awesome

“And god, you might pass out.” GIRL IM GUNNA PASS OUT A PEIRCING OMG

“the sight of the metal barbell nestled right beneath the pink tip on the underside of his cock— it’s dizzying to see.” Going to need to google what this looks like… for reaseach purposes of course

“I’ve been thinking about this since I fucking met you.” We knew that buddy you were the only one who needed to catch up to the facts

“You’re coherent enough to snap back at his cockiness, “No.” that’s right girl at least try to have some semblance of control after the hell he put you through

Dude! Cutting the scene up between Eddie and reader was such a great idea to help drag out the scene and give the most amount of info you could! I love it. Great decision

“In fact, Eddie practically ran out the door after your extremities were over, and you were left with the aftermath of spinning thoughts and an aching chest. So much for sorry.” BESTIE YOU ARE FUCKING KILLING ME WITH THIS FIC MAN

Wow what a way to end it!! I feel like James wouldn’t say anything he’s not the type. And I don’t know why Richie is having this conversation now because the residency is almost over but I can’t wait to find out and see the drama pour out next chapterrrr!

PRICE OF FAME (PART 8/?)

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie is bad with words

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, moreee jealous!eddie, mentions of piercings, smut, King James III, flirting, tension tension tension, and eddie being... idk, here u go <3

word count: 6.2k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“A date?”

The room has kicked into an orderly chaos compared to how it was just seconds ago. Richie is rallying the boys out of the room, an assistant is walking through with a trash bag to clean up the disastrous aftermath of pre-show rituals, and James is looking at you like you both have all the time in the world.

“Yeah, I mean… we don’t have to call it a date,” he shrugs, “we can just… hang out, maybe? Grab a bite to eat, maybe? Whatever you want.”

And oh god, Eddie was right.

And fuck— Eddie.

You scan the room for any sign of Eddie, but you find none, just the remains of smoke in the air and an irritated assistant picking up sticky bottles.

James’ hand has dropped from your waist, and his fingertips now lightly dance across the back of your hand, slinking around to grasp two of your fingers and give a light squeeze. Your heart races, eyes snapping back to his kind gaze. “Oh, um… okay, yeah.” You nod.

James smiles and tells you he’ll be out in the crowd with you in a little bit, and you nod before making your way out of the room.

You said yes.

You said yes to James’ date, and honestly, a small part of you is excited because, god, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been on a date.

It’s hard to find time to date when you’re busy jumping from band to band, writing articles and music reviews, and still, somehow, managing to balance your own home life.

However, you were also under the impression that you and James had more of a friendship than anything romantic, so a bigger part of you is shocked (and slightly annoyed that Eddie managed to catch onto it before you did).

And then there’s that feeling. That tiny feeling in the corner of your mind that just wishes it was Eddie who had asked you. It’s a small feeling, yes, but it has a loud voice, and you find yourself growing irritated that you’re even thinking about Eddie when he only ever made things difficult.

But is it wrong to want somebody who doesn’t know what they want for themselves? Is it wrong to want someone who can’t even bring themselves to look you in the eye and be honest for one minute?

Because it’s no secret, the chemistry brewing between you and Eddie, from the moment you met, there was an obvious attraction, and the only thing that got in the way of that was Eddie’s aversion towards your job— which is beyond your control.

And though there’s obviously a sexual attraction between you both, you can’t seem to deny the emotional connection you also share— because you and Eddie are more alike than what meets the eye.

Clearly, you both share a love for music, but you also grew up with similar experiences— from being teased for being and liking different things than your peers to having your heart broken by who you imagined would be your forever person.

God, why are you thinking about Eddie when you’ve just scored a date with James?

You’re not paying attention when you step out of the dressing room, so you’re shocked and slightly spooked when you feel a hand wrapping around your bicep and tugging you off to the side of the door.

It’s Eddie; you know it’s Eddie because you’ve become an expert at depicting Eddie’s scent, and right now, you’re drowning in him.

Eddie’s eyes are sharp and angry with a chilling undertone of something you can’t quite pinpoint. Fear? Jealousy? Resistance?

“Not into each other, huh?”

You blink at Eddie, still trying to find your way through the daze of events you’ve just gone through, and your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, “Oh, for fucks sake, Eddie. Are you serious—” “You can’t stand here and lie to me when I just witnessed whatever the fuck that was in there.” He gestures to the wall beside you, the wall that separates you and Eddie from James.

“It wasn’t anything.” You lie.

Eddie doesn’t buy it, however, because he’s leaning in closer, alcohol and mint-coated breath fanning across your face as he calmly asks, “Then what did he say?”

You shake your head, dizzy with his proximity and the fear that James could walk out any second and see you and Eddie practically pressed against each other and misread the situation— because even though you may not precisely like James romantically, you still care for him, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings.

How will you let him down easily after the date, then? What if the date goes well, and James thinks you’re more interested in him than you actually are? This is a mess, and your mind is a whirlwind of things you shouldn’t have done.

You blink through the haze once again, “Huh?”

Eddie’s jaw ticks, “What did he say to you? You looked shocked; what’d he say?”

Oh god, Eddie saw that? You thought he’d maybe have gotten bored of watching, and now you wish Richie had bursted through the doors just a few seconds earlier. And why do you even care? Why do you care that Eddie saw or what his reaction might be if you tell him the truth?

Your heart is racing, and Eddie’s eyes are beautiful, and he’s still holding your arm, and you hate how much you want to scream at him to just let you in. Because, suddenly, you don’t want to go on a date with James, even if James is the kinder route, the more willing candidate, the one that makes more sense.

“Why do you care, Eddie?” You snap.

“Because I,” Eddie pauses, frustration settling into his bones. He looks at you like you might be the only thing he’s ever truly seen, and you don’t realize how your fingers are curling around his elbow, both of your fingertips sinking into the warmth of what could be.

“Eddie!”

Eddie removes his hand from you as if your skin is hot to the touch, and you drop your hand as well, curling your fingers into the palm of your hand and clenching with a deep breath.

Eddie turns to Richie, who’s holding a clipboard and barking directions at staff and crew. “Come on, man, you’re on in 30.” Richie waves his hand.

Eddie turns back to you, dark eyes now cleared and holding urgency as he speaks, “Can you just— fuck,” Eddie tugs at his curls, and your face twists in confusion. You say his name at the same time that Richie calls him once again, and Eddie grumbles, “One second, Rich!” Eddie calls back.

“Just don’t go anywhere for the first few songs, okay?”

“What?”

“Eddie, 10 seconds!”

And Eddie’s pacing backward as he speaks to you, “Just the first few songs. Please?”

Please. You never thought you would hear that word coming from Eddie— and your stomach twists, but you nod anyway, and then Eddie’s off to the stage.

For some reason, tonight has spun out in ways you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around, and you barely hear James walking out of the room until he presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, pulling your eyes to him.

He has your lightweight jacket in one hand as he offers it to you, “I was thinking maybe we could dip out now? I know a good place for burgers, and I figure we’ve seen the show plenty of times now— I mean, unless if you’d still like to watch, that’s not a problem,” He’s rambling, and you find it cute, so you reach out a hand to press to his arm and thank him for your jacket.

And you feel bad, glancing over your shoulder as you hear the crowd screaming upon the band's entrance, but you figure James is right— you have seen the show plenty of times, so one night off won’t hurt, will it? And besides, it’s not the big finale yet, so you’re not really missing anything.

You nod as you slip on your jacket, “Yeah, let’s go; I’m in the mood for a good meal anyway.”

James’ universe is fun and bright and spontaneous, all things he is. It’s something you find yourself admiring as you watch him jump from game to game at the arcade he dragged you to after dinner.

You were both full and satisfied from heavy burgers and fries, and James decided you both needed a way to shake off the food coma; and, as James said, “What better way to wake up than lose money in a bunch of rigged games?”

You start strong with a winning streak in Mortal Kombat, Daytona USA, and Star Wars, but you eventually lose your stretch when James crushes you in Dance Dance Revolution. You made him go a second time, but you still lost, and James called your frown cute, and it made your stomach twist because— fuck, this is a date. You aren’t here as just friends.

You make your way around the arcade until you both decide to call it a night and wrap it up with a few rounds of Pac-Man. It’s chillier in the city tonight, so James takes it upon himself to haul over a taxi to take you both to the hotel.

It’s nearing midnight when you and James walk into the hotel lobby, well past the ending of the show, and you’re holding your breath all the way to the elevator, silence taking over when the doors shut. And tonight was fun and lighthearted, and you’d hate to end it on a dull note.

You should just rip the bandaid off. Do it quick and get it over with so you don’t mislead James, because god, he’s such a good guy, and you’re just… you’re all confused with yourself and— fuck, James is looking at you, just do it.

“I think we should just stay friends.” You rush out.

If James is surprised, you wouldn’t be able to tell by a long shot because he’s simply shoving a hand in his pockets and shrugging, “Yeah, I kind of figured when you avoided holding my hand.” He scratches at his neck, and you fail to hold back the sympathetic twist on your face, “I had a really great time, I did, but I just can’t do anything serious right now…” You shyly explain, and James nods his head.

It falls awkwardly silent, and you curse Richie for booking the entire crew near the top of the building because the floor numbers seem to change slower than the seasons. James breaks the silence just four floors away from your destination, “It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”

You freeze at that, head snapping to look at James in shock, “I— what?”

James shrugs for the second time and turns to the doors, “I kind of clocked it as soon as you joined; you two have some weird thing going on.” He halfheartedly teases, and you feel your body heating up because if James can notice it, then who else has noticed it? God, this is more of a mess than you thought.

“Nothing is going on there,” you lie, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Eddie hates my guts, so.” You jokingly shrug. James laughs to ease the tension, only glancing back at you when you slow to a stop and the doors open, “I had a fun night, too, by the way. No hard feelings.” And with a wink, he wanders off to his room, and you’re left stepping out into the hallway. When you turn the corner, you find yourself wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole because right outside of your door stands Eddie Munson.

He watches you walk down the empty hall until you stand before him. He’s leaning a shoulder against your doorframe, one hand tucked in his pocket as the other works his cigarette back and forth from his lips. He’s in his usual all-black attire, and his eyes are dark beneath the smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow from the show. And it seems as if he got off the stage and came straight here, seeing as his hair is still slightly damp with sweat and the chains on his neck stick to his chest.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke, dark hooded eyes peering down at you with a gaze so sharp you almost cower, “Where were you?”

Jesus Christ, the audacity of this man.

Your initial thought is to snap back at him and ridicule him for being an asshole— and what’s his deal with always coming to your room? But then you remember you walked out on him when he’d asked you to stay for the first few songs.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I—” “You went on a date.”

You freeze at that, blinking up at him as your face twists in confusion, “How do you know that?”

“Because where else would you be?” He counters.

“Maybe I got sick.” You argue, and Eddie raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing over your figure, “You don’t look sick.” He points out.

Your eyebrows pinch in frustration as Eddie takes another hit of his cigarette, “What do you want? I already said I’m sorry— which is much more than you’ve ever done, by the way.”

“I said sorry.” Eddie snaps. Eddie snuffs out his cigarette in the large plant next to the door as you scoff, turning to angrily shove your keycard into the door, “What, that shitty apology in the garden alleyway? You call that an apology? How fucking dense are you?” You open the door, moving to step in until Eddie’s fingers wrap around your arm, turning you back to him, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.” He seethes.

And woah, what the fuck does that mean? You weren’t there to hear it? What does he mean?

You blink, head shaking in confusion as you gaze up at Eddie, brows furrowed, eyes searching for an answer as you ask, “What do you mean?”

Eddie’s eyes are so beautiful, with swirling pools of forest ground and the tiniest specks of honey, and you believe somewhere within his eyes lives a fairy that gives him that ability to pull you in every time. He’s a hypnosis of a human, and it’s dangerous the way you can’t seem to fight through it.

Your eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans close enough to graze his lips over yours, and your heart races in anticipation of a kiss, but you can physically feel Eddie holding himself back.

“Eddie,” you lowly say, “What do you mean?”

Eddie turns his head to where his lips kiss the skin of your cheek, breath tickling the warm skin and sending shivers down your spine. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes tight and muttering a curse under his breath as your hands slink up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt. The soft, curly strands of Eddie’s hair dance across your lips, and you want to scream because every inhale and exhale of your lungs is full of nothing but Eddie.

His name prances across your tongue once more, and Eddie cracks.

Eddie cracks wide open; one last hit of your hammer, and he’s putty in your hands, mouthing at you as if his life depended on it, devouring you and breathing you and pushing you until you have nowhere to go but inside your room.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I’m sorry… let me make it up to you.”

You’re breathless and dizzy from lack of air, and Eddie is pushing you back onto the hotel bed, “I— what?”

Eddie’s fingers slip under your top, cool fingers pressing into your warm skin and causing your breath to hitch against his lips, “Let me make you feel good.” Eddie whispers against your lips.

And fuck, this is insane.

This is insane.

Just a few hours ago, you would’ve shoved Eddie away from you and told him to eat shit, but for some reason, with the way Eddie’s touching you and talking so gently, you find your body melting into his touch as you nod your head. “Yes?” Eddie seems like he doesn’t believe it, and your stomach twists as you clench your thighs together, nodding once more, “Yes.” You confirm.

Eddie kisses you once again, hastily and eagerly, as his hands push your top further up your torso. Your muscles tense and twitch beneath Eddie’s calloused fingers, and Eddie hums against the softness of your mouth, panting against your lips as he repeats, “Gonna make you feel good. Make up for what I did.”

You breathlessly laugh, “S’gonna take a lot more than this, Munson.”

And although you were slightly serious with that comment, you suppose Eddie takes it as more of a challenge as he shoves your top entirely over your chest, pulling away to tug the shirt off of you and toss it to the side.

Eddie surges forward to press sloppy kisses against the uncovered skin of your chest, sucking tiny little marks as he moves further down your body, pressing a hand to your chest to push you down into the bed when he reaches the waistband of your skirt.

It’s a black denim skirt, and Eddie takes a moment to admire how they hug your thighs perfectly— and he can’t seem to bring himself to remove it from your waist, so he pushes the skirt up around your hips instead. Your heart is racing, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you attempt to close your thighs, but Eddie places his palms flat against the warm insides of them.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me already. I haven’t even taken off these cute little panties of yours.” Eddie presses a thumb to your cotton-covered clit, dragging the pad of his thumb down your slit and pressing into the damp spot. Your breath hitches, sparks flying throughout your body, and Eddie smiles. You whine, “I thought you were apologizing.” You frown.

Eddie hums, leaning forward to press a kiss right where your thigh meets the fold of your pussy. You squirm, and Eddie snickers, “I am.” He responds.

You sit up to lean on your elbows, glaring down at him between your thighs as you speak, “You’re not. You’re just teasing me.” You point out.

Eddie doesn’t respond as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, drags them down your legs, and drops them to the side, gaze flickering up to yours as you clench your thighs together. Eddie holds your gaze as he wraps his arms around your thighs, hooking his hands into the dip of your waist and tugging you to the edge of the bed. Your center throbs in anticipation as Eddie sinks to his knees on the carpet floor, dark eyes still locked onto yours as he fits his upper body between your thighs.

And Eddie doesn’t even bother looking between your thighs when he dips his head in and begins devouring you.

Eddie, you find, eats pussy like he has all the time in the world.

He’s sloppy with it, lapping at your center and suckling your clit until you’re a whiney mess beneath him. His fingers curl into the denim skirt that’s bunched around your hips, and his rings tauntingly wink up at you under the light as he clenches his fist against the material, tugging you closer to him so he can thrust his tongue further into you.

While Eddie is busy tasting you, you scramble to reach behind your back and unhook your bra. Between your thighs, Eddie watches as you toss the garment off to the side before cupping your tits in your hands and rolling your nipple between your middle and forefingers. Eddie moans against you, burying his face deeper into you and suckling enough to have you crying out in pleasure.

Eddie pulls back for a moment, sticky strings of his saliva and your arousal dripping from his lips as he removes one hand from your waist to sink two fingers into your cunt. You pant out his name, your face twisting in pleasure when he curls his fingers up against your walls. Your eyes are screwed shut so you don’t see Eddie leaning forward to purse his lips together and let a drop of saliva drip over your pussy and sinfully coat your clit. He’s quick to attach his mouth to the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you reach out a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, knuckles curling at the root to drag an animalistic growl from Eddie.

Eddie is one of the best, if not the best, head you’ve ever received. By the time you begin teetering over the edge, your thighs are twitching and tensing as if you’ve already come undone, and your chest is heaving beneath Eddie’s fingers as he toys with your tits.

When you cum, Eddie becomes greedier than he’d been before, licking and slurping up every last drop you have to give until you’re twitching away from him and pressing a shaky hand to his shoulder.

Eddie slinks up your body, sinking his fingers into his mouth to clean off your wetness before you slink an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to kiss you. Eddie’s fingers are wet as they cup the left side of your face, and the feeling of something wet on your face would usually have you cringing in distaste, but you only moan and press yourself further into Eddie.

You mumble for him to take his shirt off, and Eddie follows swiftly, too eager to go back to kissing you. He shivers when your hands meet his bare chest, fingertips exploring the vast expanse of untold stories in ink, hard yet plush muscles of his arms flexing beneath your touch.

“I wasn’t done saying sorry.” Eddie pants against your lips, and you breathily laugh, “You can finish some other time; I want to feel you now.” You respond, busying your hands with trailing down his lower stomach, sinking past the waistband of his leather pants.

Eddie kisses his way down your neck to begin sucking pretty bruises into the skin, and your core clenches when you realize Eddie is wearing nothing beneath the leather pants— and you try hard not to imagine how he’s probably been pressed up against the rough fabric, achy tip undeniably receiving pleasure from the sinful ways he uses his hips when he’s on stage.

Your shock doesn’t end there, however, because when you sink lower to wrap your hand around his cock, your body goes still at the feeling beneath your fingertips. Against the fiery skin of your cheek, you feel Eddie’s lips stretch into a smile and your heart races.

“What’s the matter, princess? Find something you like, hm?” Eddie can’t help the way his voice shakes near the end because you're giving his cock an experimental squeeze and running a finger over the sudden surprise.

You smile as you speak, “Is that a piercing?”

Eddie hums, turning his head, nose smashing against the side of yours as he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Maybe..” He teasingly confirms.

And god, you might pass out.

Eddie’s dick is pierced. You’re not sure what more you’d expect from a rockstar, but you’re still shocked and ushering him to remove the annoying restriction of his pants.

When Eddie finally gets rid of his leather pants, you’ve shifted to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, and Eddie stalks over to the edge of the bed, beckoning you over.

You don’t waste time crawling over to him, eyes stuck on the pretty sight before you. And sure, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a pierced dick (you’ve spent too much time working with rockstars), but it sure as hell is the first time you’ll be fucking one— not to mention his cock is perfect. It’s shaped and cut to perfection, something you’d expect from a pornstar, but Eddie is not a pornstar, and god, the sight of the metal barbell nestled right beneath the pink tip on the underside of his cock— it’s dizzying to see.

You peer up at Eddie, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking him once, chest fluttering when he fails to hold back a moan. “It’s really pretty, Eddie.” You softly say, and Eddie sheepishly and breathlessly laughs as you squeeze at his tip. “Want you to fuck me with it.”

Eddie groans, muttering a curse as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, pushing you until you’re crawling back up the bed to lay beneath him.

“I’ve never been with someone with a piercing…” You admit, and Eddie smiles at you, and your stomach twists when he reaches down to gently guide your movement up and down the length of his cock.

“Really? You’ve never fucked a pierced cock before?” He manages to say through his pleasure. Your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek as you shake your head no, and Eddie snickers when you ask, “Have you?”

His lips quirk into a smile, “Honey, you think I got the piercing done without a test run on how it feels?” He jokes.

You snort at that, and Eddie beams at you. You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, and Eddie curses, watching as you mindlessly bring the glistening pad of your finger up to your tongue and hum.

“How’s it taste, sweetheart?” Eddie teases, and you hum as you respond, “Good. So good, wish I could taste more—” “No, no, no.” Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his head, reaching down to wrap a fist around himself.

“This isn’t about me. Plus, I’m losing my patience right now; I’ve been thinking about this since I fucking met you.” He presses himself flat against your pussy, and you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as he rolls his hips to slide himself up and down your wet cunt, the cool metal of the piercing catching onto your clit and sending shivers up your spine.

His gaze falls between your thighs to watch as your slick centers meet, cursing at the way your wet folds part around each drag of his cock. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess, fuck.” He rasps.

Your mind is spinning with the roll of Eddie’s hips, his dirty compliment, and his admission that he’s thought of fucking you before. You don’t dare to tell him you’ve thought of it too or that you’ve gotten off to the thought of it. You don’t even have to think about it because the tip of Eddie’s cock is catching the slickness of your entrance, and you’re gasping, body jerking in pleasure. Your lips accidentally smear against Eddie’s shoulder, and he hums, tilting his head and dipping to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss.

As he distracts you with his mouth, he slowly presses into you, and you lose your ability to keep up with Eddie’s lips because holy fuck— Eddie is bigger than you thought. Sure, you got a good look at him when he removed his pants to show you his surprise, but your mind must’ve been too muddled with lust to clock the size of him.

You can feel everything as he sinks into you, every vein running up the sides, and the mind-numbing sensation of the barbell as he presses into you. “Holy shit,” you breathlessly whisper against the skin of his shoulder, legs tightening around his waist as the burning yet toe-curling feeling settles in. Eddie snickers above you, “That good?”

You’re coherent enough to snap back at his cockiness, “No.”

Eddie laughs, and you want to make a snippy comeback, but it gets lost on your tongue when Eddie gives his hips one experimental roll.

Eddie is pathetically close to cumming.

Eddie’s cock has only been nestled within your warm, wet, pulsing walls for barely two minutes, and he’s about to blow like he’s a goddamn teenager— and it doesn’t help how heavenly you sound and look writhing beneath him.

Eddie’s not sure where to look; your face, your tits, or the hypnotizing sight of your cunt sucking him in over and over with each thrust he gives you. “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re taking me so well, princess.” He leans in the nose at your cheek before licking at the curve of your jaw, shivering at the wet moan you pant into his ear.

“Been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” Eddie hums, sucking a delicate bruise right below your ear. And god, Eddie could spend forever like this, drilling into you and marking you everywhere and pulling these pretty sounds from you. Eddie’s so close, oh god.

You mewl at his words, hips squirming as Eddie snaps his hips into you, “No,” you whine, “You’ve been mean to me.” And Eddie thinks you’re awfully cute when you’re blissed out and pouting. And your eyes are glossy, lips slick with spit and swollen from kissing.

Eddie wishes he had a photographic memory because he doesn’t want to forget a single detail of this moment. Eddie has one hand clutching the sheets beside your head as he lets the other hand coast up your side to land on your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple to pull a moan from you. “I know,” Eddie lowly replies, “I’m sorry, princess.” He kisses your chin, and you clench around him.

Eddie’s fist clenches around the sheet, fighting to hold himself back as he presses deep into you and stills, cock twitching within your walls. “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” He asks.

You're hazy and cockdrunk, and Eddie can’t wait to unpack the fact that you go braindead when you’re fucked good. Eddie nudges himself into you, although he’s pressed all the way into your cunt, and you whimper before eagerly nodding.

“Yeah?” Eddie teases. You nod again, fingers digging into Eddie’s arm as you speak, “Yes, Eddie— fuck. Yeah, show me, please.”

Eddie almost loses it.

It’s slightly scary how much Eddie likes this, how much he’s enjoying this— the feeling of you beneath him, the wetness, the heat, the sweat-sticky touches, and the sloppy smattering of kisses. God, Eddie’s in love with it.

The short five-second break Eddie managed to pull from questioning (teasing) you was enough for him to get ahold of himself. Eddie sits up and grasps the back of your knee, hauling your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle at fucking you, and you gasp when his cock rubs against your spot.

Eddie doesn’t waste time once he gets the position situated. He leaves one hand splayed beside your head to hold him up as the other hand grips the warm flesh of your thigh before resuming his thrusting, this time at a deeper and quicker pace.

The sound of skin meeting and the wet sloshing noise of sex echoes through the room amongst the mix of moans and sultry-soaked remarks. Eddie doesn’t notice his hand slipping from your thigh and slinking up to wrap around your neck, but he hesitates when you whimper. He almost removes his hand, but you wrap a shaky hand around his wrist and nod— and fuck, Eddie will never be the same man after this.

Eddie can feel the heat and the pulse of your heart as his fingers tighten around your neck. Your moans are becoming more and more frequent and higher in pitch, and Eddie can feel the way you’re fluttering around him more sporadically, and he can’t wait to feel it when you cum.

Eddie leans over you, lips brushing your parted ones as he encourages you to let go, “Come on, let me feel it. I’m not leaving until you soak my cock, princess.”

Your body is on fire.

It’s almost alarming how easily and well Eddie has unraveled you. His presence is nearly overwhelming with the way he’s hovering so close over you, but you love it— the tickle of his long curls on your shoulders and chest, the intoxicating smell of him, the dizzying hold he has around your neck— you preen for it.

You’re so close when Eddie tells you to cum, and you barely have enough time to prepare for the earth-shattering orgasm that ripples through you the second Eddie presses a thumb to your aching clit and rubs tight circles against it.

Your body tenses, and your moans crack upon the surface as you melt into him until you’re nothing but a quivering mess. Eddie talks you through it, tells you how pretty you sound and how good you feel wrapped around him. Your orgasm had hit you so hard that you barely registered the broken moan that came from Eddie before he pushed deep into you and emptied every last drop of himself into your pulsing heat.

Eddie curses, his cock pulsing within you, and you let out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh when he rolls his hips into you once more. You’re both silent for a long moment as you come back down to earth, Eddie’s forehead pressed against your shoulder as you subconsciously let your hand run up the side of his torso.

Eddie shifts to turn his head to where he can slightly see your face as he still hides against your shoulder, “Apology accepted?”

Saturday morning, the next day, you wake up and want to bury yourself under the hotel sheets.

Last night was… interesting, to say the least. It was good— mind-blowing— but you still have that lingering feeling in your chest that maybe you and Eddie shouldn’t have slept together. Maybe you let him in too quickly. Maybe it was all a lie, Eddie’s ‘apology’. All the gentle caresses and the passion-filled kisses with the heart flutter words. Maybe it was all for show, just to get you to let your walls down so he could have at you.

Eddie didn’t spend the night with you.

In fact, Eddie practically ran out the door after your extremities were over, and you were left with the aftermath of spinning thoughts and an aching chest. So much for sorry.

The dining room is buzzing with chatter and laughter of excitement— today is the last off day before the final show of the residency— but you’re too in your head to join in on the conversation because Eddie won’t even look at you.

Your throat feels tight, and you spend the majority of breakfast just pushing your food around the plate, and you manage to pull a smile and nod your head when Naomi asks if you’re okay. But fuck, you want to scream.

You should’ve never believed Eddie when he told you he’d change or when he practically spent the entire night worshipping your body and begging for your forgiveness. Eddie didn’t want forgiveness. He just wanted to fuck you, and you should’ve known that from the second he kissed you.

But Eddie’s kisses can tell a hell of a lie, and damn you for falling for them.

You’re spooked when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s Richie, and he peers down at you and gives you a tight-lipped smile as he leans in and lowly speaks, “Can I speak with you outside?”

You nod, dropping your fork onto your plate and quietly rising from your chair. And for the first time today, Eddie looks at you. Your chest tightens, and you think it’s stupid that you’d been upset about this because it’s Eddie for fucks sake. He’s a rockstar, and he surely never made the mistake of presenting himself as if he was anything other than a man who fucks whoever they want and moves on the next day. Eddie’s jaw ticks, he looks away, and you bite your tongue as anger floods your body.

You ignore it as you turn around and follow Richie into the hallway.

You’re hardly paying attention when you both step out of the room, but the slamming of the door is the cue for Richie to start speaking. “Listen, Birdie,” he begins, “You know I adore you. I’m always in your corner, no matter what… But I have to put my boys first.”

It’s concerning, the way Richie is beginning this conversation, and it’s even worse when he can’t seem to look you in the eye for more than five seconds at a time. Your heart rate picks up, and you begin to think maybe…

No, Richie can’t know. There’s no way he’d know, right? Unless if someone told him. One of the band members, or James, or— fuck, there’s too many people that know at this rate. But you didn’t think it would reach Richie.

No, you’re just spinning out. Richie doesn’t know, and this is about something else; it has to be.

You shake your head, brows furrowed as you speak, “I’m not sure I understand.”

Richie glances around the corridor and shifts in his spot, scratching at the back of his neck as he speaks, “Listen, I uh,” he glances at you, and your heart drops because you now know why he’s pulled you aside.

“I know about you and Eddie.”

————

part nine

————

a/n: hiiii, you made it to the end !! IM SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER FRIENDS, i promise there won't be anymore from here on out (i think hehe), BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS SMUTTY LITTLE PART, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate all and any feedback <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie munson

733 notes · View notes

pogirosary · 11 months ago

Text

What is Prayer? Why do we do it?

Prayer is communication between man and God, a two-way relationship in which man should not only talk to God but also listen to Him. Just as we cannot hold a conversation with another person unless he can hear us, the very act of praying is an implicit recognition of the presence of God here with us. And in praying, we strengthen that recognition of the presence of God, which draws us closer to Him. That is why the Church recommends that we pray frequently and make prayer an important part of our daily lives. For the unbeliever, a prayer is a cry to know and have a relationship with the Living God. It is precious and sacred. Repentance and acknowledgment of Christ as Lord leads to walking in joy and fellowship with the One who made us (Romans 10:9-10).

Another helpful way of understanding prayer comes from the Jesuit theologian Walter Burghardt, who once expressed contemplation/prayer as “taking a long, loving look at the real.” Let’s break this definition down into parts. First, prayer begins with taking a long look. It’s looking at reality like slow-motion cameras at a sporting event. We get the chance to slow down and to take a closer look, which may reveal to us things we might have otherwise missed in our fast-paced lives. Second, prayer is also a long, loving look. When I reflect on reality, do I look with harsh, judgmental eyes, or with the loving, tender, and merciful eyes of God? Lastly, in prayer we look lovingly at the real: the reality of my life and the world. We start with reality because God does so through the Incarnation. God undertakes the work of salvation not by fleeing human reality, but by entering into it. In the ultimate act of solidarity, God became one of us in the person of Jesus. And Jesus experienced all that reality encompasses: from joy and laughter to suffering and death. So we know that God can hold the messiness of our reality and of our world. God can handle whatever we express in prayer. Because love holds all things.

There are many promises in God’s Word to encourage us to pray, such as: “He shall call upon me and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honor him” (Psalm 91:15); “And it shall come to pass that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear” (Isaiah 65:24); “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Matthew 7:7). The Scriptures tell us that we are to pray for one another and also assure us that God hears and answers prayer.

The Bible provides many examples of prayer and how to pray. These examples show ordinary men and women laying their hearts before God, seeking Him in humility and praise. The following are several prayers we can ponder today.

The apostle Paul exhorted his readers to “not be anxious but pray about everything” (Philippians 4:6). He also prayed that unbelievers would come to a saving knowledge of Christ (Romans 10:1). In fierce opposition, Peter and John prayed for courage to share the Gospel (Acts 4:29) and that God would perform wonders to glorify His Name (Acts 4:30).

The early church prayed over each other for healing (James 5:14-15) and the release of those in prison (Acts 12:5). They asked God for wisdom and discernment to carry out their work for the Lord (James 1:5, Philippians 1:9-10). The early church The early church also prayed to know the will of the God they served (Colossians 1:9) and for the ability to grasp the depth of their Savior’s love (Ephesians 3:17-19).

Mary prayed in awe and wondered over the news that she bear the Son of God The beauty and humility of her opening words still bring joy to our hearts today. “And Mary said: ‘My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant’” (Luke 1:46-48).

The last prayer of the Bible is short but filled with power and anticipation. The apostle John, confined to the Island of Patmos, penned these brief but hope-filled words. “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).

We pray to align our hearts with God and to seek His guidance in the moments of our days. We find wonderful examples of this in scripture—from Abraham to David to the prophets—but one of the most powerful examples is in King Hezekiah’s life.

King Hezekiah, a God-fearing King, ruled the Southern Kingdom of Judah after the horrific reign of King Ahaz. A tribute to Hezekiah’s depth of character is found in 2 Kings 18:5. “Hezekiah trusted in the LORD, the God of Israel. No one was like him among all the kings of Judah, either before or after him.”

After the evil of Ahaz, Hezekiah was a tremendous blessing to the people of Judah. He moved to destroy idol worship, removed the high places that distracted the people from Jerusalem, and even broke the bronze snake of Moses’ day because the people burned incense in its honor (2 Kings 18:3-4).

However, amid the good he was doing, Hezekiah was under intense scrutiny and pressure from the evil leader of Assyria, Sennacherib. The Assyrian King repeatedly sent delegations to mock and taunt the nation of Judah, telling the people not to be comforted or fooled by their leader, Hezekiah, because the destruction of their nation was assured. The mighty Assyrians had conquered every other nation around them—why not Judah (2 Kings 18:31-35)?

At one point, as the Assyrian delegation mocked Hezekiah’s commitment to God, they left their threats in a letter. The significance of Hezekiah’s response to this evil threat is life-changing. “Hezekiah received the letter from the messengers and read it. Then he went up to the temple of the LORD and spread it out before the LORD” (2 Kings 19:14).

As Christ-followers who long to seek God’s heart in all things, we mustn’t miss the magnitude of King Hezekiah’s actions. He took the letter—filled with terrifying details of certain destruction—and spread it out before the Lord.

Scripture doesn’t say this good king reread the letter and agonized over every word. He didn’t call endless meetings with his officials to discuss the horrifying details.

He read the letter. He went to the temple of God and placed the letter before the Source of all hope and deliverance. God heard his prayer, and the Kingdom of Judah was spared from the attack of the Assyrians (2 Kings 19:20-34).

Oh, how I love that God moved through the writers of scripture to record this hope-filled story for us today. And what a powerful, visual example of taking our fears and anxiety to our Heavenly Father.

We will face our own “Assyrian Army” on our earthly journey. This may include sickness, grief, job loss, heartache, betrayal, etc. But we can take it all to the One Who created us and knows us to our very depths.

Now read King Hezekiah’s amazing prayer in 2 Kings 19:15-19

"And Hezekiah prayed to the Lord: "Lord, the God of Israel, enthroned between the cherubim, you alone are God over all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth. Give ear, Lord, and hear; open your eyes, Lord, and see; listen to the words Sennacherib has sent to ridicule the living God. "It is true, Lord, that the Assyrian kings have laid waste these nations and their lands. They have thrown their gods into the fire and destroyed them, for they were not gods but only wood and stone, fashioned by human hands. Now, Lord our God, deliver us from his hand, so that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you alone, Lord, are God."

As followers of Jesus, we are called to devote time to prayer and meditation over His Word. Reading the inspired Word of God and praying as we read is a treasured gift from our Creator. God promises peace to those who keep their minds on Him (Isaiah 26:3). Oh, to linger in quiet moments with Him!

But there is a type of meditation in our unbelieving world that we should avoid because of its emptiness and potential dangers. Any practice that directs us to clear or empty our minds is suspect because we are called to fill our hearts and minds with God’s promises and precepts (Psalms 1:2). If our minds are “emptied,” as the world suggests, there is a potential danger for the intake and acceptance of thoughts and philosophies contrary to God’s Word.

Additional verses about godly prayer and meditation include Philippians 4:8, Psalm 19:14, Psalm 63:6, Psalm 104:34, and Psalm 119:15.

We learn vital aspects of prayer by following Jesus’ example in His years of ministry on this earth. From scripture, we know that Jesus prayed alone (Luke 5:16), He prayed with others (Luke 9:28), and He prayed for others (Matthew 19:30).

In Jesus’ earliest teachings on prayer, He begins by urging His disciples to pray with humility, not to be seen and admired. Matthew 6:5 reads, “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others.” And in Matthew 6:7, Jesus focused on praying with humble simplicity, not with endless words and phrases. From there, He moves to the beloved model of prayer still recited around the world today, what we call, The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13). What a moment this must have been for Jesus’ disciples. To learn about prayer from the Author of their faith!

In John 17, knowing His time of death was near, Jesus went to His Father in prayer. He prayed that the Father would be glorified through what was to come (John 17:1-5). He prayed for His disciples, that they would be protected and sanctified (John 17:6-18). And then, in a breathtaking moment of love and compassion, Jesus prayed for us. John 17:20-21 reads, “My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” And in the Garden of Gethsemane, before laying down His life for the redemption of sinners, Jesus lay His deepening sorrow before the Father. Three times He asked that, if possible, the path before Him could be changed (Matthew 26:39-44). But ultimately, for the joy set before Him (Hebrews 12:2), He surrendered to the will of God. “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done” (Matthew 26:42).

Even on the cross, Jesus prayed. He cried out to His Father seeking forgiveness for His persecutors (Luke 23:34), to express agony over the temporary separation from His Father (Matthew 27:46), and to breathe His last words as He laid down His life for us all (Luke 23:46).

What is prayer? Prayer is a priceless gift from a loving Father to His children. What a joy to walk each moment in close, sacred fellowship with our Creator. “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know” (Jeremiah 33:3).

Prayer is a treasured privilege and mainstay for those who belong to God through the saving work of Jesus’ death and resurrection. The gift of communing with our Creator—child to Father—is the anchor and cornerstone of our life’s journey.

"Prayer is communication with God. It is not only talking to God, but it is listening to God. And we are to pray, first and foremost, because we are commanded to pray. It is an act of obedience. I may not always understand the process of prayer or the behind-the-scenes work of prayer, but God wants me to depend upon him and to ask him for those things that are needed most in life. Yes, God is going to give us good things. He's going to provide for us. But it's clear in scripture that we have not because we ask not. And they're just too many scriptures that tell us that we're to pray. And if we don't pray, we limit what God will choose to do in our lives. It is the process. And every time God answers prayer, it strengthens our faith. Every time we get an answer and God delivers in his own way, in his own time, we develop as disciples in Christ. So of all the things Jesus taught, he was a great preacher and communicator, obviously, but when the disciples came to him, they didn't say, 'Lord, teach us to preach.' They said, 'Lord, teach us to pray.' There was something about the prayer life of Jesus that was so powerful, so persuasive that these men wanted to know how do we pray like that. And so getting in touch with God, knowing God, growing in our faith, getting the things that we need, all of this comes from the hand of God. I believe in prayer, and not just the idea of prayer, but I believe God really answers prayer." - Dr. Jack Graham, PowerPoint Ministries

#catholic #catholic faith #catholic life

1 note · View note