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This whole situation is bat shit crazy, yet my panties cling to my eager pussy, ready to fucking receive him—traitorous hussy.
“I have a fucking name, River,” he whispers my name into my ear like a fucking prayer he's preparing to chant for eternity. “And I want you to fucking scream it.
"We are far from fucking done," he hisses, snapping his gaze to me. "None of this is over," he gestures between us. "I'll be seeing you, River Blue West."
One day, I'll show my girl how to use those fists against everyone who decides to put their hands on her.
Yeah. It’s ball-nicking time, Assface. Feel my fucking fury.
I’m talking my soul dick. The dick that lives deep inside of me, not literally. So, suck my aura dick, society, and leave the name-calling out of your mouth.
“You’ll never have to worry with me, Pretty Girl. I’ll fight off the monsters.”
“I’ll be with my new favorite over here until you two decide to play nice.”
I want to be the one to tame her and then hold her, letting her know everything will be okay.
“Call me daddy, Little Brat, and see what happens.”
“But if I have to relive this moment over and over for the next one hundred years, I want it to be you.”
It's you, River. I've been waiting for you,”
“You're going to be my most cherished memory, Little Star.
Pack your bags, little sister. We're going to California.”
“Hello, boys, my name is River West, and I’m your new band manager. Congratulations,”
