Sasuke Choking Meme

My husband, Joseph Coleman, falls from the third floor, shatters both legs, and even injures what men fear losing most. I don't rush him to the nearest hospital. Instead, I drive him to a hospital two thousand miles away. In my previous life, Joseph jumped on purpose so the hospital intern he dotes on, Kimberly Parker, could secure a permanent spot by operating on him. He refused the capable surgeons nearby and insisted I take him to the hospital where Kimberly works, just so she can treat him. I turned him down because Kimberly is an untrained intern who got in through connections and has no surgical experience. Joseph had slapped me hard across the face. "I just want to use my injury to help Kim go permanent. Why are you being so petty?" He was dead set on Kimberly treating him. I worried the delay would ruin his legs, so I asked his mother, Diane Lowe, to talk sense into him. But what I never expected was Kimberly jumping from the hospital building when she failed her probation. Meanwhile, Joseph is treated in time, and both legs are spared. On the day he's discharged, I come smiling to take him home, but he runs me down with his car and kills me. As I collapse on the floor, choking on blood, I ask him why. He looks at me like I'm something stuck to his shoe. "If you hadn't stopped me from helping Kimberly go permanent, she never would've died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Joseph falls and breaks his legs.

Memories have no remedy for Yorticia Fleurdelice Vigilante, who has no idea about her obscure past. She was an angel, and it was beyond her comprehension how the gust of wind had brought her to a lush Garden of Evil. Cosimo, with whom she lived, a man she was not familiar with, gives her one mission: "Kill me whenever you can." The evil is him. The De Rogatis successor to the fortune who've been concealing the truth that he's the De Rogatis empire's successor, asleep in Olimpio Sidonio Gagliardo's hands, has returned following a 13-year vengeance scheme of an age-old vendetta against the plot's ringleaders, one of whom are the Vigilantes, which risk further conflict resulted in the eradication of her clan. She did not know him well, but he caused a knot in her just thinking about his face. From this point on, Yorticia decides that she'll do this by choking him with feigned love and emotionally manipulating him into servitude. Promising him, like, a million tomorrows, she'll be like a wildflower, valiantly growing wild and free and nothing that burns. Yorticia, however, is thrown into confusion as what was supposed to be pure retaliation turns into lust... and conceivably true love as she begins to notice it was starting to consume her like a raptorous wildfire. Meanwhile, as Cosimo drops further lower while continuing to fight for the things that he holds dear and to forget the things he fears, he grapples with his own feelings for Yorticia. He wants Yorticia to know that when he found this newfound freedom through her... she became his religion, regardless of who he becomes or how low he descends. Can they ever truly learn to love one another, or are they doomed to suffocate in their destructive cycle of retaliation and violence?

I have been married to Andrew Connolly for four years, but whenever his gaze meets mine, there is no recognition at all. Even my voice doesn't register. He remembers everyone around him, yet the one person he never remembers is that I am his wife. If I put on a hat, he asks who I am. When I tie my hair up, he assumes I am a new hire at his company. To help him remember, I repeat the same outfit, the same makeup, the same hairstyle. Still, despite my daily presence, he treats me like a stranger. I tell myself Andrew is simply buried in work, that the neglect is accidental, right up until a concert night. I watch him cut through the crowd and embrace his first love, whom he has not seen in years. When the stage suddenly collapses, I seize his arm and beg, "Honey, please save me." Andrew shoves me away, his voice flat and cold. "You're not my wife. My wife is at home." I am crushed beneath the falling debris. Choking on blood, I can only watch as Andrew rescues his first love and walks away. That is when I realize it's not that he can't remember me, he just doesn't love me. The bodyguards drag me out of the wreckage. Later, I spend a month confined to bed with serious injuries. While I am in the hospital, I get a photo of Andrew kissing his first love. The blows land one after another and mercilessly jerk me awake. I am done with love, and I am done with him!

Amelia has spent her life surviving her stepmother’s cruelty, each day carved out of fear, each breath earned through obedience. When the woman finally grows tired of her, she sells Amelia off like a piece of debt-stained property to a man whispered about in every corner of the kingdom. A man who kills without hesitation. A man whose name alone can silence a room. Heartbroken but unwilling to die under another tyrant, Amelia makes one desperate attempt for freedom. She flees into the choking darkness of the forest, hunted like prey by the very man she was forced to marry. But before he can claim her… something inside her snaps. Under the cold, merciless moon, Amelia’s bones shatter, her skin tears, and the girl who never fought back transforms into a creature she didn’t believe existed. A werewolf, born of a lineage her stepmother buried in lies and blood. And worse still, the mate fate binds her to is the same ruthless predator she tried to escape. Now Amelia must live in a world where power is defined by the strength of her bite and the legacy she never knew she possessed. Her mate despises her with a fire that could burn kingdoms, and the shadows of his past drip with secrets, violence, and betrayal. If she can’t unravel the truth behind his hatred and the truth of her own origins, she will be consumed by the same darkness that forged him. But Amelia is no longer the girl who kneels. Not anymore. And when she discovers the monsters tucked inside her mate’s memories, she must decide: Will she be the weapon that breaks him…? or the woman who survives him?

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

"Open wide, Golden Boy. I know you’ve been imagining sucking my cock in your head the entire practice." ​The cold floor of the locker room is bruising my knees, but it’s nothing compared to the grip Michael Rossi has on my hair. My mouth is stretched tight around his cock, my heart hammering against my ribs in a rhythm of pure, unadulterated shame. I’m the star defenseman for the Knights, the disciplined, untouchable Axel Thorne and yet here I am, choking on the pride of my greatest enemy while he talks to me like I’m his favorite toy. ~~~~~~~ They call Michael Rossi the “Menace,” and for once, the media isn't exaggerating. He’s the jagged edge of the Rebels’ front line,a dirty, arrogant prick with a god complex. I’ve hated him since the night he stole my girlfriend just to prove he could. For eighteen months, he’s dismantled my peace, chirping in my ear and checking me into the boards with a smirk. ​Now, a viral "spite kiss" has trapped us in a PR contract. I’m supposed to play along with the man who ruined my life, but the closer I get, the more I realize the rivalry was just the beginning. ~~~~~~~ ​Axel Thorne is the "Golden Boy", disciplined, loved, and blissfully oblivious. He thinks I’m the villain who stole his girl; he doesn’t realize I only did it to see the look in his eyes. This rivalry was never about the game; it was about obsession. I’ve spent every restless night imagining how it would feel to finally claim him. ​Axel thinks we’re faking it to save our career. He’s wrong. I’m playing a game where he only wins by losing himself to me.

"Does my son fuck you this good? No? Then take this dick like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a fucking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking Daddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, fuck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them Daddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public sex in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they fuck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the fucking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

Warning: Extremely steamy content ahead, proceed if you love your Daddies dominant and your boys beautifully broken. Surrender to the raw, intoxicating power of older men who know exactly how to break a willing boy… and make him crave every filthy second. This scorching collection of standalone MM short stories thrusts you into the world of commanding Daddies, ruthless CEOs, ex’s powerful fathers, dad’s dominant best friends—who take what they want without apology. These experienced alphas spot a hungry younger man and unleash relentless, possessive desire that leaves no hole untouched and no limit unbroken. Feel the heat as stern Daddies pin eager boys against penthouse windows, bend them over desks, and force them to their knees in corners. Deep-throating commands, rough bareback pounding, choking growls of good boy, and dripping, sweat-soaked submission turn forbidden tension into explosive, body-shaking ecstasy. Every story drips with primal age-gap lust—older men claiming, breeding, and owning younger bodies that beg for more. If you live for dominant Daddies who discipline, degrade, and devour… this collection will ruin you for anything less. A must-read obsession for every MM lover who needs their erotica raw, relentless, and drenched in Daddy dominance. MM erotica MM Romance Gay Romance LGBTQ+ short stories MM anthology Standalone short stories Age gap romance Blackmail romance Daddy kink Forbidden romance Steamy gay romance Daddy kink Age gap Taboo/forbidden Ex’s dad Dad’s best friend Power imbalance Dominant alpha Daddies Rough possession Oral worship Bareback breeding Dirty talk & praise Dub-con to desperate consent High-heat explicit sex Standalone shorts HEA/HFN 18+ only

5 years ago: “I’m pregnant,” I stated. “It’s not my baby. You must have gotten pregnant by someone else. Abort it,” Alpha Baxter hissed. “Why would I make a baby with an omega like you? My beta mate will give me an heir,” Alpha Graham scoffed, his eyes cold. “And even if it is mine, give it up for adoption. I don’t want him calling me daddy,” Alpha Elgin sneered, wrinkling his nose. 5 Years Later: “Please! Let me be a part of my baby’s life,” Alpha Baxter pleaded, his voice breaking. “My mate can’t conceive. I want my child to know me and to call me father.” Alpha Graham requested. “I would hate for my baby to call someone else daddy in front of me,” alpha Elgin whispered, choking back emotion. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to abort them? How can you claim them now?” I spat, locking eyes with them. .. Living as an omega was never easy for Madeline, but she survived with the support of her three alpha best friends. They protected her, cared for her, and made her feel valued, until they discovered she found them attractive, which changed everything. Desire took over, and they claimed her, only to cast her aside once they had what they wanted. When Madeline learned she was pregnant, she turned to them, only to be rejected and told to end the pregnancy. Betrayed and heartbroken, she fled the pack to protect herself and her unborn children. Years later, Madeline stands strong, raising three children who carry the DNA of the alphas who abandoned her. Now the alphas regret the choices they made, but Madeline knows one thing for certain—her children will never call them “daddy.”

"You are mine!" He said with his dominating voice holding my neck, he was choking me, I was frightened to the very core, shaking. "The moment I paid you that huge sum of money, you became an asset to me" he added "You can't back out now. It's too late" he said again, still holding me. "I'm not yours" I managed to say in a cracked voice. "I will never be yours" I replied with a cracked voice trying to breathe." "You are nothing, you are just a mere whore with nothing else but a standing pole, a hoe who spreads her legs for money and  that's all you will ever be. A stripping hoe!" he said, tears rolled down from my cheeks as I began to cry. "If you try to break the deal we have by revealing it to an outsider, you will be dead! And come to think about it, who would believe the words that come from a stripping hoe like yourself? No one, no one will ever believe you! Because you know what you are? A complete Street whore. That's exactly what you are and what you will ever be." "If I'm a complete whore to you. Why did you choose me?" "Because you are nobody. I don't want my family digging into your profile and finding something, so I chose you. You were the perfect match that fit into all of this charade" he said intuitively. "I don't want to do this anymore,  I will wire you back your money first thing tomorrow morning" I said, trying to leave. He drags my hand vigorously. I was scared to the very core, shaking like a drenched rat. "You don't seem to understand the concept of our agreement, you don't seem to understand, Khloe"