Romans & histoires Iggy Shameless

@Nakshatra pov@ I never even dreamed to see fuggie in that condition but that idiot made this to her while we are in hospital we got call from sam she said she is at home we told her about incident she came to hospital she is unable to control her tears by seeing fuggie like that because fuggie is the youngest one among us so we all pampered her very much but now looking at her condition our heart is broken me and ishi asked her to stay at the hospital and went to college we seen them at parking area we went near them

She vowed to eat whatever they offered next time, her feet could barely carry her as the maggots were still stinging her foot and she was famished. Igor was not feeling too fine as he had become pale, he did not want Willow to notice how weak he was, deep down, he wished he would just fall down and never stand up again. He did not want Willow to know the pain he was passing through, else she would freak out. As he had noticed that, he was the source of her strength.

"A real country bumpkin, no matter where they go, their poor upbringing still betrays them... Have you never seen such food before?" Shamia merely glanced at Ingrid and ignored her, she started to pick out the food she liked. Ingrid stepped closer, and right in front of Shamia's view, she pulled down the neckline of her dress to reveal a few hickeys on her chest. "Do you know that Andrick and I have s*x almost every day? Sometimes, even when I've had enough, he still doesn't let me go." Shamia glanced briefly and ignored her. Ingrid didn't like her nonchalant reaction. "Don't you have anything to say? Can you please stop pretending? We both know you that you like–"

Please, your whole family is the real definition of shameless! Irene's face turned beet red as she exploded with rage. Her teeth clenched, and she looked like she was ready to bite someone. Leroy's face was just as flushed. He rolled up his sleeves, ready to throw a punch. Phantom Eye, who had been enjoying the show, finally chuckled and spoke up. "Kid, I'd think twice before trying to act tough here. Just last night, Shawn left this place with his head covered in blood and a hole through his damn palm. If you so much as lift a finger, I'll make sure you see your own brain matter splattered on the floor."

Even Mom and Dad's faces darkened when they heard him mutter that they should die. Mr. Harrington stared at the screen, a cold laugh curling from his lips, full of contempt. "So this is what the Sanders family calls their rising star? With this character, these tactics… you think you're fit to marry into the Harrington family? You'd be an embarrassment." Ryan's face turned a deep, blotchy purple. Mom and Dad's faces cycled through green and white, as if they'd been publicly slapped a dozen times. But no matter how humiliated they were, the shame still belonged to their own family.

“Ruining your own family like some perverted whore!” “Family destroyer! Sick bitch! How does it feel knowing you’re breaking your mother’s heart?” The insults piled on, each one landing heavier than the last. My shoulders curled inward, arms wrapping tight around my middle as if I could physically hold myself together. Tears spilled hot and unchecked down my cheeks, blurring the sea of cameras and accusing faces. I wanted to scream that it wasn’t like that, that we’d fought it, that the pull had been deeper and more terrifying than anyone could understand. But no words came. My lips trembled, parted, but all that escaped was a shaky, broken exhale. The shame burned through me, raw and chokin

I left my bags in his house not like I have any money in it,and my shoes . I didn't have the guts to hit Chole because of my step mom and what she would do to me if i hit her precious daughter doesn't mean I couldn't do the same to Noah. yes am proud to say I hit his big fat head with my shoes and I don't regret it ,if anything I felt a lot better. "Get out of my way crazy girl,do you want to die ?if yes then I wouldn't be the one to kill you." A husky voice spoke snapping me out of my murderous thought.

“No, Brielle. You didn’t upset me. I upset me. I lost control.” The shame in his face was real. Tangible. But so was the fear that maybe this wasn’t a one-time thing. That maybe her forgiveness wasn’t healing—it was submission. The rest of the day, he worshipped her with his body—mouth, hands, words—burying apologies between her thighs, inside her. As if every orgasm could erase the sting. As if if he touched her gently enough, she'd forget the sound of his voice when it was cruel. He murmured over and over:

"Lola, I'm sorry… I never should have left you alone with her." His voice shook with regret, heavy with fear and remorse—emotions he had never once shown for me.

"I'm sorry that your boyfriend isn't here to see you without braces. I heard about that boyfriend of yours. I'm sorry he was a bad egg. Speaking of eggs, I am sorry that the egging video got out in the first place. I made my daughter delete her I*******m account after she kept watching it repeatedly." Dr. Iggy means well. But with the last name like that, no wonder he can't mind his own business. "Thanks, Dr. Iggy. My boyfriend didn't do it. You'll see. Thanks for taking my braces off." I walk into the waiting room, and for once, I let my mother take a picture of me without my braces on. My life is a photo album. My parents have a child photo shrine descending and ascending the wall of our s