My Size Kink Never Been So Fulfilled And The End Chefs Kiss

I cannot with this man, I hate and want him at the same time 😭

Intrusion

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,255 Summary: After your brother is assassinated, his murderer decides to have a little fun with you.  Warnings: AU probably. Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Dark!Lloyd. Home invasion. Mentions of minor character murder. Non con. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected sex. Pussy slapping. Cream pie. Lloyd's the worst tbh.

A/N: Uh. This "drabble" got out of hand. SORRY NOT SORRY! 😘

One moment you were sleeping peacefully, and the next, you were jolting awake at the sound of yelling and gunfire. 

You heard all hell break loose as your brother’s security team responded to whatever threat had reached his front door, and you scurried into the closet in the corner of your room, trying your best to muffle your frightened sobs with your hands. 

It’s all for naught, as moments later, once the manor has gone eerily quiet, your closet door was wrenched open and you were yanked out by your arm before being dragged downstairs to your brother’s home office. 

You cried out as you were roughly thrown to the floor, your face landing inches away from a pair of perfectly shined leather shoes. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like we've caught ourselves a sweet, little prize, huh?”

You could hear the glee in the unfamiliar voice, scrambling to a sit as the man crouched before you. 

It was the dark burn of his gaze taking its time to survey you—to leer at you in your little cotton sleep dress—that had you shivering with dread as you pulled your knees to your chest and curled in on yourself.

You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes big, frightened, and shimmering with tears as you quickly drank in his pale skin, dark hair, and the ridiculous, thick mustache that detracted from his otherwise handsome features. 

“What’s your name, pumpkin?” He purred, touching his tongue to his teeth as his eyes lingered on your bare legs. 

At your silence, he grinned, bright blue eyes finally meeting yours. 

He leaned in, pointing to himself with the gun in his hand as he said, “I’m Lloyd, and you are...“

You jerked as the gun gestured toward you, trembling your name at his expectant look. 

“Mmm, that’s a pretty name. A pretty name for a stunning woman.” 

Lloyd gave you another lecherous once over before rising to his feet and sauntering to the drink cart adjacent to your brother's desk. He poured himself a generous tumbler of your brother’s good brandy before taking a gulp. 

“You the girlfriend?” He guessed. “Mistress? One night stand?”

You blinked at him, your wide gaze pulled away by the other men—the soldiers—lingering around the periphery of the room. 

Suddenly Lloyd was filling your vision, crouching before you looking mean as he touched the end of his gun beneath your chin, eyes glittering at your whimper as he directed your gaze back to him. 

“Don’t look at them, cupcake, look at me. I’m the one in charge.” He leaned in close, his next words a warm puff against your lips. “I’m the one you gotta sweet talk into sparing your life.”

“Boring,” Lloyd huffed at your ongoing silence before snapping at his men, “Out! All of you. Get the fuck out!”

They were quest as they retreated, and despite how terrifying they all were—especially armed to the teeth—you somehow felt more afraid, more unsafe, now left all alone with Lloyd. 

He must have been able to read the realization on your face, because he snickered. 

“Answer my question.” He snapped your brother’s name. “You his girl?“

You couldn’t help it as your face scrunched in disgust and you shook your head quickly. “He’s my brother.”

“Was,” Lloyd smirked. 

And suddenly there was a lump lodged in your throat as more tears blurred your vision and you shook harder. “H-he’s dead?”

“Yep,” Lloyd popped the p on his answer, tapping two fingers to the center of his forehead. “Good ole kill shot. It was quick and painless, in case that’s any consolation.”

You stared at him, horrified—heartbroken—as more tears leaked down your cheeks. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” Lloyd sighed, his eyes falling down the length of you for a long beat. 

When they snapped back to yours, they were even darker than before, gleaming with a deviant kind of malice that made your blood run cold. 

“Now I need to decide what to do with you.” He tapped a finger to his lips, as if in thought, before announcing, “Ah ha! I’ve got an idea.”

He lunged closer, grabbing your arm and yanking you against his chest. He chuckled at your chirp of fear, the way you went stock still as he gently caressed your cheek with his gun.

“You have a choice, pumpkin: you can get fucked by this,” he pressed the gun beneath your chin, hard enough to make you whine in pain as his lips hovered over yours, his eyes excited. “Or, you can get fucked by my big, fat cock.”

“N-no, please!” You shook your head, blinking a fresh wave of tears down your cheeks. 

“Better pick, clock's ticking,” Lloyd grinned at you. “What’s it gonna be? This loaded gun with the safety off,” he laughed at your sob. “Or this big, fat cock,” he cupped the growing bulge at the front of his pants. “And a load of my cum?”

When you only cried harder, shaking your head as “please” rained from your lips in a desperate chant, Lloyd growled.

His hold on your arm tightened hard enough to make you cry out as he jerked you against his chest. 

“Pick, now,” he hummed softly, nuzzling your nose with his. “Before you end up like your brother.” He groaned as you trembled against him, licking the tears from your cheek before pressing a scratchy kiss there. “Pick.”

It wasn’t much of a choice, and you both knew it, but still—despite your impending violation—you didn’t want to die. 

“Y-you,” you quavered, barely above a whisper. “I pick you.”

“Good girl,” Lloyd cooed, leaning back enough that he could see you and meet your gaze when he tipped your face up to his. He smirked as he told you, “But I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

At your furrowed brow, he snickered. 

“Tell me you want my big, fat cock.”

You barely shook your head before Lloyd’s hand gripped your throat hard, a tic in his jaw popping and his eyes blazing like fire as he snarled, “Say it.” 

“I—“ your voice broke, a wave of humiliation—of shame—washing over you as you whispered, “I w-want your big, fat cock.”

Lloyd’s laugh was a quiet, gravelly rumble. “Oh, I’m more than happy to give it to you.”

You were on your back before you could even process his words, watching with big eyes as Lloyd slid his gun into the holster at his side before shrugging off his jacket. His biceps bulged against the short sleeves of his polo shirt as he stretched out over you, until his face hovered inches over yours and his warm breath fanned across your lips. 

“You really are a pretty thing,” he hummed, gently caressing your warm cheek with his knuckle and huffing a laugh as you flinched. “You’re gonna keep your eyes on me the entire time. Nod if you understand.”

Your nod was more of a jerky bob of your head that had Lloyd smirking. 

“Good girl,” he rumbled, his big hand wandering lower, making a detour to roughly grope your breast. “Wish I had more time to play with these, but we’re on a schedule.”

You couldn’t help but shove against Lloyd’s stomach as his hand reached the hem of your sleep dress, sneaking beneath it then between your thighs. 

“Please don’t,” you pled on a whisper, more tears spilling over as you stared up at him in horror. 

“Aren’t you just the most precious thing ever,” Lloyd teased. “I’m just giving you what you want, what you begged for.”

“I don’t want this.”

“You want it more than the alternative, don’t you?” He paused the wicked descent of his hand, his gaze challenging. 

Your own flickered to the gun at his side, and you shuddered at the thought of what he had suggested, a few more tears dripping down your face as you stopped trying to shove Lloyd away and went pliant beneath him instead. 

“That’s what I thought,” he sang, booping your nose with a grin. 

Then his hand was at your panties and twisting hard, the sound of the fabric ripping deafening, and the harsh pull of it against your skin making you yip in pain. 

You went rigid as Lloyd’s long, thick fingers tickled along the cut of you. He tutted at the dry state of your cunt, his dark gaze boring into yours as he started to rub at your clit, his fingers caressing along your folds and dipping between them, teasing your hole until your body started to respond.

To betray you.

“There you go, knew you could do it,” Lloyd husked as your cunt responded to his touch, arousal seeping from you, making you cry harder—riddled with shame—as Lloyd shoved two fingers into you without warning. 

Your back bowed as a pained cry spilled from your lips and you pushed against his chest again, whining at the harsh burn inside you as his fingers stroked and pressed and invaded. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever felt a cunt this tight,” Lloyd groaned, rutting against you to relieve the ache in cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.”

You were so relieved when Lloyd’s fingers retreated, that you didn't quite process the rustle and clink of him undoing his belt, unzipping his pants, and retrieving his cock. 

A beat later, the head of him caught at your entrance and your eyes went wide as they met his. “Wait—“

Lloyd did the opposite, driving into you on one deep, brutal stroke, moaning at the way your sweet body seemed to welcome him home—where he was meant to be—as you sobbed and shook beneath him. 

He wasted no time, settling into a hard, fast pace, rutting into you wildly–roughly–jerking your body against the cold, unforgiving floor as he shoved into you over and over again. 

Another broken whimper spilled from you, and Lloyd laughed, dropping his forehead to yours as he murmured against your lips, “Told you it was big and fat. You can barely take me.” 

He nipped at your bottom lip hard before licking it, his hips pounding into you ruthlessly as his rhythm began to falter. 

When his hand dropped and his fingers began to rub at your clit, making something other than pain bloom deep within you and spread quickly, you cried harder, your hand clawing at his wrist as if your timid touch could stop his, stop what was about to happen. 

“Yeah, give it to me,” Lloyd laughed as your body arched up against his without your permission. “Come on, pumpkin. Let me feel you cum around my cock.”

Shaking your head, you turned away from him, squeezing your eyes shut as you teetered on the edge. 

“Bad girl,” Lloyd husked against your ear, “I told you to keep your eyes on me. Doesn’t really matter though, you’re still gonna give me what I want.”

His lips trailed along the side of your neck, and then his teeth bit at your skin, not hard enough to make you bleed, but hard enough to startle you, to tip you over the edge.

You were cumming before you even realized what was happening, your cry anguished—betrayed—as your body trembled and your cunt pulsed. 

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetness, squeeze my cock.”

Lloyd stilled to enjoy the feel of your pussy clenching and clamping around him, and then once your body sagged beneath him, boneless and at full surrender, he really went at you. 

The sound of your coupling rose up around you, Lloyd’s grunts and groans making your cheeks burn with a renewed, shameful fire as he slid a rough palm against your face and turned your glassy, tearful gaze his way. 

You stared into those dark blue, evil eyes of his as Lloyd reached his peak. As he gave a few final, lingering ruts, throbbing within you and filling you with his cum, shoving it as deep as he could as he hummed his pleasure—his triumph over you—and didn’t stop fucking you until he was completely spent. 

“Goddamn,” he sighed, sagging against you. “That’s one grade A pussy.”

Lloyd took a moment to catch his breath and then he pushed up over you and pulled out, smirking as you gasped and clenched your thighs together. 

“No,” he snapped, shoving your legs apart and putting your glistening pussy on lewd display. 

He watched, waiting, and then he grinned big as his cum slowly dribbled from your cunt. 

“Mmm, look at that. You may be pretty as fuck, but this messy pussy is a goddamn stunner.”

You jerked and whimpered as he gave your cunt a harsh slap, smearing his seed all around and laughing as you rolled away and curled in on yourself. 

You were hugging your knees to your chest and choking on a sob when Lloyd finally rose to his feet, redressing and smoothing his hair back into place. 

“Let’s go, pumpkin, up and at ‘em, we have a flight to catch.” 

He grinned as your startled gaze flew to him. 

“What? You didn’t think I’d actually let you go, did you?” 

He crouched before you, gently gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger and inspected your devastated gaze, the betrayal shining in your eyes.

“You did, didn't you? God, you really are too fucking precious for words, aren’t you?” he cooed. And then he smirked and leaned in real close as he hummed, “You have two more holes for me to ruin, pretty girl, and I can’t fucking wait.”

Why do the mean ones make the hoo ha flutter? 😩 Please drop me a comment or reblog, I love reading your reactions so much!

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I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

Just sending you some love, Dibs 😘

Also, imagine being seated between those thighs on a nice summer day *swoon* 🥰

How did I miss this ask? 😳 I love ya Carly 💞

But yes, sitting between his legs would be absolutely divine. Drabble time!

+++++

You were a scorned woman, set to marry the Prince. You were bred to rule beside a man, raised for the Crown. Hands unmarked of any labour, dress ironed and laying perfect over your figure and your virtue intact; you were the vision of a proper lady who would one day be a Queen.

The winds of scandal were sudden and took your life by a storm, ravaging your reputation and life in one fell swoop, and you were ruined. The woman who would have lived in a castle became a name whispered with suspicion, pity and scorn.

Sherlock did his best to save the last shreds of your dignity, proving your innocence and worth to the society. But a fallen woman is not easily raised, and your dreams of being a Queen were dashed away.

You didn't know what to do with your life then, having no further need of royal etiquette lessons. You found yourself leaning on the one man who had promised to salvage your image. He was witty, sharing the details of his cases that took your mind away from your future that seemed shrouded in fog.

Carriage rides, walks in the park, you didn't know when it happened when you stopped thinking before taking his hand and resting your head on his chest. His strong arms seemed to be the only thing holding you together.

You figured that he looked like a Prince too, with his curls fluttering in the summer breeze as he watched you approach him under the tree. His pipe was smoking and you felt jealous of it for it felt those sinful lips over it way more than you did.

"What are you thinking?" He asked you, offering you a hand and bringing you down to sit between his thighs. Strong muscle surrounded you, and his eyes pierced you like sunlight through rolling clouds.

"Don't you already know, Mr Holmes? They say you know everything." You whisper, bringing his pipe to your mouth and blowing smoke on his face. He smirks, holding you close and nuzzling your neck.

"Your mind? Yes. Teach me to read your heart." He said.

You shifted to look at him, your beacon of light that parted the clouds that surrounded you. His lap felt a way more worthy throne than the one in palace would have.

"For you, my heart is but a mirror. You'll only ever see yourself there."

+++++

Sub + Jake Jensen

Calling Andy pretty + during sex

Rough sex + Cole

Anal + Curtis

Thanks for playing, sweet nonnie! ❤️ Okay so I definitely giggled and love the idea of calling Andy "pretty" during sex - that is for sure something my blissed out brain would do, along with lots of petting his floofy hair and beard lol, butttt, you know what, I think Cole's time has finally cum. 😏 He's my priwhoreity!

Cole may be a mega dweeb and a sweet human disaster, but he is also passionate. And like straight up obsessed with you! I can't quite decide which scenario I like more: a fight and then some rough make up sex, or maybe you've been gone on a work trip for a while and it's the first night he's seen you in weeks and he's just pent up AF...but either way, I just feel like rough sex with Cole would be less about domination and more about frustration, ja feel? 😏

Like, he just cannot rein himself in AT ALL. Girl, you and your pussy are in danger. He basically rips your clothes off of you and takes you up against the nearest wall. His kisses are so frantic, and his big, rough hands are framing your face and holding you in place so you can't get away. He doesn't even undress himself all the way, just rips open the front of his jeans and digs out his cock. He has just about an iota of sense left that has his fingers quickly swirling around your clit and playing with your pussy until he feels your slick coating his fingers and then he's shoving home with the kind of relieved groan that has your pussy fluttering in acknowledgment of his desperation for you 😮‍💨 And then it's just hard fucking right up against the wall, the kind of hard, deep strokes that are taking you up onto your tippy toes as Cole's moaning and panting against the crook of your neck. He's kissing and licking at your skin, nipping too, and once he's close, he's just pounding into you and frantically chasing his release, totally mindless and needy and....the wrecked moan he muffles against the top of your chest as he jerks inside of you, his hot, sticky cum flooding your insides as his hips continue to pump and he's holding you tight. 🤌🏻 Then he just kind of sinks against you, completely spent and panting and trembling a little, and you just pet his hair and rub his back and once he's regained a bit more sense, his head pops up and he gives you a sheepish smile and a gravelly, "Hi, beautiful," before he's shifting from urgency to worship, and now it's your turn for some mind-blowing relief.

I'm on this and I'm not sure if I like it

The Oscars and Hollywood in general is just becoming a bigger joke. They will keep lose revelancy while they keep showing their biased views, a white man's career will not be over when he's accused of sexual assault but a black man slaps someone and its the end of his reputation

so the academy is reviewing whether or not to remove Will Smith’s award and here are some interesting tweets about that :)

I live in a world where instead of staring at peggy creepily and rummaging thru her office, steve rogers went back in time to brooklyn in the 1920s and watched a single mother picking her bloody, bruised boy off the ground. the perspective changed from steve watching them, to steve being the boy. his mother holds him gently, but with an iron grip. she tells him, you always stand up. you always stand up.

when steve is on the ground in the final battle, body broken and failing, his breath wheezing and his teeth stained red, he hears his mother’s voice in his ear. he remembers who he is. he’s not the guy who sits in basements mourning, he is not the guy who lets his grief or sorrow or pain demobilize him. no matter how much the world throws at him, he cannot let it keep him down. he is the man who stands up when no one else can. when no one else wants to. when he thinks even his own poor legs can’t hold him.

he stands up, looks thanos in the eyes, and says, finally believing it, “I can do this all day”

This is beautifully written but the audacity of this man?

Promise Not to Promise Anymore

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of cheating, angst

Word count: 2448

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been struggling with for a while, I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to get the words to sort themselves out. Special thank you to @krirebr for helping me so much with the process. Without you literally nothing would ever be posted here 😂. (Yes I am aware that I barely post…I’m working on it!) Any feedback that you could leave would be really appreciated. ❤️

The day had been uneventful, boring, normal. But something about the day had your skin crawling. You weren’t sure what had set you off, and yet here you were pacing. Something you only did when you were anxious.

Your phone chirped with another notification, probably one of your socials. Your anxiety had you reaching for it immediately. Seeing the name of your ex pop up on the screen had your stomach dropping immediately. Neither of you had reached out in months. The man who had blustered out of your life as fast as he had blustered in was texting you.

You threw the phone onto the couch without reading the notification. Sure you could find out immediately what he wanted if you actually read the text, instead you screamed into the throw pillow. Your mind began to run with all of the possibilities of why this man would choose now to text you. Did he want money? Was he dying? Was he texting just to let you know how little you meant to him?

The last one, it was definitely the last one.

You stood from the couch and glared at the small black rectangle that had ruined your otherwise boring day. Your phone chirped again, and you physically recoiled from the sound. Deciding a drink would help with whatever it was your ex wanted you dazedly walked to the kitchen. When you opened the fridge, your gaze immediately found the bottle of wine you had bought on a whim on the weekend. Something the lady at the grocery store had recommended since you looked so lost in the wine section. Grabbing the bottle and bypassing a glass was the best way to handle this conversation you decided.

You sat on the couch, taking a long pull from the neck of the bottle before reaching for your phone. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you unlocked the phone screen and tapped on the messages icon. There was his name in big bold letters: Andy. You hesitated as your finger hovered over the message, you could see his second message clearly Are you too busy to talk now? Maybe you could just not read it. Or read them and never respond. Or read them and respond later.

You hated every single one of those options, because you knew as soon as you opened these messages you’d be responding immediately. You took another long pull from your bottle, and placed the phone back down beside you. You needed your mind to stop. The thinking, the over-thinking, it was too much. You flipped on the TV to distract yourself and curled up like a cat. Your phone chirped again from under a throw pillow, and you pointedly ignored it.

You weren’t ready to deal with Andy. You had thought when he ended things that you would never hear from him again. Devastated. That was the only word you could use to describe how you felt after he left. You still didn’t even understand why he had ended things, only that he clearly hadn’t felt as strongly as you did about him.

There was another chirp that had you sighing and grabbing for your phone. You had to deal with it, or he wouldn’t stop. That was Andy. You pulled up the messages anticipating at least a double text, but completely unprepared for all the messages he had sent you,

I know this is out of the blue, but I need to speak to you.

Are you too busy to talk now?

Please Honey, I need to talk to you.

It’s important.

Honey…

Of course, the man could double text you, but would refuse to supply what he actually wanted to speak to you about. You typed out several potential responses before deciding on something polite but to the point.

Andy, I can talk. What’s going on?

You didn’t have to wait long for Andy’s equally to the point response.

Can I call you?

You stared at the message for a moment. You knew you couldn’t hear his voice, it would take you right back to where you were. All those months ago when he broke your heart. All the hurt, and the anger, it would be right there.

As you debated what to say, your phone began to ring. The man had absolutely no patience. You stared at his name, and without thinking answered the phone.

“Hello…” You sat and waited for him to say his peace, how bad could it be.

”Honey, I’m sorry.” You shuddered as Andy’s voice came through the phone. You forgot how his deep timbre had always made you feel comforted, and safe, and warm. “How are you doing? I know I shouldn’t be…I don’t…Are you okay?”

You hesitated before you answered. Months ago you would’ve known exactly what to say to Andy to make him feel better. Now it felt like you were talking to a stranger. “I’m fine Andy. Why are you hammer messaging me?”

Andy chuckled lightly, and you smiled at the lilting notes. “You haven’t changed.” Your eye twitched at that comment. “I just, I needed to hear your voice, Honey.”

”So you messaged me repeatedly?” You could hear the annoyance in your tone, which meant that Andy could hear it ten times louder.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this…” Andy trailed off and sighed. You huffed and pulled the phone away from your ear for a moment so you could murmur your annoyance to yourself.

”Just say it Andy, why did you reach out? Why are we on the phone?” You pulled at the threads on the throw pillow under your arm.

“I miss you.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. You couldn’t have heard him right. He missed you? No, no he was dying, or broke, or literally anything else.

“You-what?” You spluttered out the only thought that came to your mind.

Andy chuckled nervously, “I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way your forehead pinches when you’re focused. I miss the way you would take care of me. The moment I ended things? I knew I had made a mistake, and so I told myself that it was kinder to you, to just move on.”

You sat there in silence, shocked at his sudden declarations. “Why, why did you end things? What happened? Andy, I loved you so much, and then out of nowhere you just up and ended things.”

You heard Andy sigh on the other end of the phone. You could picture him scrubbing his hand down his face and scratching at the beard hairs on his chin. His nervous habit. “I got scared, I think.” He chuckled again, “I know it’s not a good excuse…”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s a terrible excuse Andy. What scared you? That I loved you? That I wanted to be a part of your life? Please tell me, what exactly scared you so badly that you ended the best relationship I’ve ever had?”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. You hadn’t meant to let all of that out.

There was a long drawn out silence. “I think it was how strongly I felt about you. I was…scared of what that meant. Before I met you I thought I knew what love was. I was sure I had felt it. But once that feeling truly hit me? I couldn’t actually function.” Andy sighed again, “This isn’t coming out right.”

You took another long pull off of your bottle of wine. You let Andy’s words roll over in your mind. Could he actually be telling the truth? His love for you was so strong that he got scared. It just didn’t seem right, there was something else, there had to be.

“So what you’re saying is, our love was too much for you?” Your tone rang with annoyance and a little bit of desperation. You remembered any time you had tried to get something out of Andy that he didn’t want to tell you, how carefully you’d have to tread, otherwise he would shut down. As much as you wanted to tell him off, end the call and block his number forever. There was still a part of you that needed to know the real reason, so before Andy could respond you continued. “Andy, as much as I love this game of cat and mouse we’re playing, where it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of you,” You heard him softly chuckle on the other end of the line, “I just need the truth, maybe it will hurt me, maybe it won’t but I need it.”

There was a long silence on the line. Although it made you nervous and want to say something to fill it, you sat and sipped on your slowly warming wine while you waited for his response. Your bluntness would have one of two effects: either he would fold and tell you what you wanted, no needed to know, or he would shut down and it would be months, if ever, before you heard from him again.

His heavy sigh preceded his response, “You’re right, and wrong.” He paused as if he was gathering his thoughts. “It is true that the feeling of love between us scared me, but it’s also that it scared me so much that…”

”That what?” You knew what he was going to say, felt it deep within your soul. Your heart was about to be broken by Andy Barber once again, and what was worse, you had practically asked him to do it this time.

”I slept with someone else. It only happened once, but it was before I ended things.”

“I see.” It was all you could get out. You could feel the twisting in your chest again, the anger burning behind your eyes, the tears welling and choking you with their strength.

”I’m so sorry Honey. As soon as it was over I knew I had fucked up. But I also knew if that I couldn’t be with you still, it wasn’t fair to you.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, and it only made the anger burn stronger. Like his words had lit a match and poured kerosene over top.

“So you called me now, to…what? Make yourself feel better?” Your breathing was hard, almost panting in your anger.

”I don’t know why I’m calling. I just know that I’ve regretted that decision ever since. I miss what you brought to my life: the pure joy, the love I could feel down to my core.” Andy’s voice was strained. It was only then that you realized he was crying.

”Are you drunk Andy?” It was the only time you had ever seen him cry, when he had one too many with the boys after work.

”No, I swear. I promise Honey, I haven’t had a drink tonight.”

You took another sip of wine. Contemplating the truth in Andy’s words, the burn of his betrayal. This was just too much.

“Well I’m glad you’ve finally told me the truth Andy. Even if it is months later.” You hugged your throw pillow to your chest as you prepared yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt him as much as they would hurt you. “I can’t forgive you, for any of it. Please, just leave me alone.”

Before you could second guess your decision, you hung up the phone. You stared blankly at the TV screen, not even remembering what you had put on in the first place. What shook you from your reverie was a dull thud from your door. Like someone had just planted their forehead against it.

You stood and quickly crossed the room to check what the noise was. It was only once your hand was on the handle you knew: Andy. You unlocked the door, and twisted the handle slowly, knowing the man who had destroyed you not once, but twice was standing on the other side.

When your eyes connected with his, you could feel all of the love, joy and affection come flooding back. It took everything within you to not jump into his arms and sob until you had nothing left. Instead you gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing holding you up.

”Honey…” Andy’s voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that you weren’t even sure you heard it. His hands reached out and thumbed at the tears quietly streaming down your face. “Oh Honey, I’m so sorry.”

With that he pulled you against his chest. You could smell the high end cologne he wore to work, and the underlying scent of pure Andy. The warmth of his chest and his arms wrapping around your back had you losing all control. You sobbed with abandon into his neck, no words leaving your lips. Andy scooped you up and walked you both into your apartment. Using his foot to shut the door behind him.

He sat down on your couch, with you tucked against his chest and began murmuring quietly to you. You couldn’t make out most of it, but did catch the odd word. “Shh Honey.” “I know, I’m so sorry.” “Just let it out, okay?”

When you finally felt like you could cry no more, you pulled your face from Andy’s neck. You could feel how swollen your eyes were, in fact your whole face felt puffy. “I still don’t forgive you.”

Andy let out a full belly laugh at your meekly spoken words. To which you glared at him and crossed your arms across your chest.

”Okay, okay.” He wheezed in a breath, “I’m sorry Honey. Please just give me a chance to make it up to you. Even if that means I don’t get to feel your love again, let me just try to make this right.”

You reached out and stroked his cheek. Feeling his soft skin contrast with the roughness of his beard. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, see the grayness of his skin. “I need time Andy.”

He sighed, and let his eyes flutter shut. “Of course Honey, whatever you need.”

You reluctantly stood from his embrace, “Please leave Andy, I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He nodded solemnly. Andy stood, he moved to hug you, but you took a few steps out of his reach. He nodded again before heading for the door.

”Honey?” His back was still to you.

”Yeah?”

”I still love you, more than anything. And I promise to do everything I can to show you that.”

”Andy, maybe we should both promise not to promise anymore.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @krirebr @rebeccapineapple @precious1610 @bval-1 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @thezombieprostitute

Oops, I never uploaded this one to Tumblr (which I only realized when someone else did, but then was kind enough to tag me, thank you)!

This is the comic that kickstarted my obsession with telling stories with as few panels as I could (usually 10-11 haha), so it’s got a soft spot in my heart. 

Wtf, this is disgusting and completely unnecessary. Let the animals be, can’t we learn that hunting for sports is not something that is okay PRINCIPALLY when with animals that need to be protected?

Hundreds of lynx to be hunted in Sweden following biggest ever wolf cull

Conservationists condemn latest cull as ‘trophy hunting’, while hunters admit it is ‘about the excitement’

Sweden has issued licences to hunters to kill a total of 201 lynx, weeks after dozens of wolves were killed in the country’s biggest wolf cull in modern times.

The number of licences to kill lynx throughout March, issued by Sweden’s country administrations, is more than double the number in recent years.

The planned cull is out of all proportion to any danger to livestock or people, say wildlife conservationists and activists, who are asking the EU to take action against Sweden for breaching environmental law.

“This is a trophy hunt, just like going to Africa to hunt lions,” said Magnus Orrebrant, the head of Svenska Rovdjursföreningen, an animal rights advocacy group that has started a petition calling for the trophy hunting of lynx to be stopped. “Hundreds of foreign hunters come to Sweden for lynx hunting because they think it is exciting.”

Conservationists warned last month that the lynx population in Europe could collapse unless immediate efforts are made to protect the animals. Tests on the remaining cats in France show that their genetic diversity is so low they will become locally extinct within the next 30 years without intervention.

There are around 1,450 lynx spread across Sweden, about 300 fewer than 10 years ago. Naturvårdsverket, the Swedish environmental protection agency, argues that the country needs only 870 animals to maintain a healthy population.

The Swedish hunters’ association, Svenska Jägareförbundet, admits the lynx do not pose a danger to humans. Henrik Falk, an adviser to the association, told the Guardian: “The hunt is absolutely not linked to any danger to humans. Neither is wolf hunting – there are no documented cases of wolves attacking humans in Swedish modern times.

“The lynx hunt is more about the excitement, and for some hunters, of course, the skin is the motivation.”

Lynx, like most other game animals in Sweden, are hunted using dogs. The EU Habitats Directive specifies that hunting may be allowed either to prevent damage to livestock or in the interests of public safety.

It is “strongly questionable” that either of these conditions applies to lynx in Sweden, said Benny Gäfwert, a predator expert at the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF). “We do not think the hunters can invoke these exceptions, and we have notified the EU Commission,” Gäfwert said.

“That hunting occurs, we do not, in itself, have a problem with, but the extent to which it occurs in relation to the low damage caused by the lynx is unwarranted.”

The WWF is also challenging Sweden’s explanation for its ongoing wolf cull, Gäfwert said.

Historically, lynx have ranged across Eurasia but have come under intense pressure in many countries from habitat loss, inbreeding, poaching and traffic collisions. In Britain, calls to reintroduce lynx to the wild were rejected last month by the environment minister, Thérèse Coffey.

Conservationists point to the role of lynx in controlling Sweden’s large population of deer, moose and boar.

The lynx hunt in Sweden is taking place during the mating season when their fur is thickest, making it particularly attractive to hunters, said Marie Stegard Lind of anti-hunting group Jaktkritikerna. “This is completely unnecessary – a pure trophy hunt,” she said.