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For anyone who was told they would burn in hell for simply wanting to live their life.
I don’t know if Heaven and Hell are real, but if God rewards abuse and instills fear, I would rather burn than live anywhere near him.
“I want to. I need to,” Hans said desperately. “Nothing helped until you. When you fuck me, the pain stops. The anger stills. Don’t take away the only thing that’s ever made me feel like I’m worth something.”
“Baby boy, you could never disgust me. You make me happy, Hans. You make me so fuckin’ happy. I just worry that you’ll resent me.”
“Is this what you want, baby boy? You want me to fuck you into oblivion until you forget the hell around you?”
“Harder. Fuck me harder. Split my worthless ass. Stretch me nice and wide. Let me know you’ve been there. I want to feel you for days.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Hans hisses. I bark out a laugh. “Don’t you know God when you see him, pretty boy?”
“I always told you I’d find you if you got lost, Maggie. I kept my promise.”
The question I should’ve asked is, why do men fear us so much that they twist the concept of God to shackle us?
Famines come in many forms. Though they fed my belly, they starved another part of me. Now that I have a feast before me, I’m going to gorge until I’m full. Xander is the Devil, and I want to burn in his hell.
