Undertale Locked Door Mushrooms

Three years into our marriage, Rylan Shaw brings another woman home. "Maeve, you should learn from the younger ladies. Stop acting like a block of wood all the time." With a calm resolve, I shatter our wedding photo and hand him the divorce papers I've long prepared. "Let's get divorced, Rylan. I'll step aside for her," I declare. His friends insist that without him, I'll starve on the streets. Rylan believes the same. "Once she's suffered enough out there, she'll realize how lucky she was to be Mrs. Shaw." But a week passes, then a month—and I never return. That's when Rylan begins to grow uneasy. Panic and restless nights consume him. One evening, drunk and desperate, he pounds on the door of my new apartment. "Maeve, if it's money you want, I'll give it all to you…" The door swings open to reveal an unfamiliar man—bare-chested, pajama pants hanging low, fresh scratches streaking his abdomen. Jonah Archer arches a brow, dissatisfaction flickering in his eyes as he asks, "Mr. Shaw, what madness brings you to my wife's door in the middle of the night?"

Adeloiza, daughter of the CEO and the supposed to be heiress of a company was forced to be married for the sake of salvaging their company from bankruptcy. As headstrong as she is, she refused to get married and as a result, was schemed by her stepmother and sister. She was drugged and was locked in a room with the man she is supposed to marry. Unknowingly, there was a mistake in their plan and locked her in a different room. She ended up sleeping with a different man overnight. She was driven out of her family after knowing she lost her chastity by some unknown man. She lost her privilege of being the successor, was shamed on by her father and was abandoned. Helpless, she went away. 5 years passed she came back with a bean sprout in her embrace. The only problem is that this little bean sprout suddenly started screaming at a man surrounded by bodyguards,” Hey you! Be my Daddy!”

The demon wolf is afraid. There are dark creatures in the world, Zaira Silvera used to think that Gideon Demetrius was the darkest but there are those he fears and so should everyone else. There are secrets locked away in the past and we must unlock them in order to survive.

“Hey, little rogue. You belong to me. You can never escape from me.” His voice was solid and fearful as I stared at him with intense hatred “I’d rather die than let you have me. To hell with you!” I spat at his face, my chest fuming with anger “I was planning to take you to heaven but if you prefer hell, then so be it.” his hoarse voice roamed my neck and before I could blink, my left breast was in his huge palm He crushed it painfully as he locked his gaze with me. I winced in pain but refused to fall for his cheap, pleasurable tricks. “Everything, everything about you is mine. You can never die without my permission. I will make you submit to my authority,” he declared with a rougher voice and claimed my right breast in his mouth My body betrayed me. A slight gasp escaped my throat as his wet tongue coated my nipple. It was insanely good. The mix of pleasure and hatred were too much for my body to handle, I had to let go of one for the other. Pleasure! My body chose that as I shamelessly moaned in his tight grip. He was sucking hard on the breast in his mouth as he fondled the other. “Shit!” I found myself spitting out as he stopped abruptly His eyes were red with pleasure as he stared at me. “Let’s stop here for today, little rogue. We shall continue another time” I couldn’t believe my ears. I watched the enemy that killed my entire family walk out of the door without being able to do anything but the most terrible thing was that I enjoyed his pleasure. “Damn you, Aria!” I cursed myself as I broke into tears.

Bastien marries me only for duty. I reject him and leave for good by faking my death. Yet he goes crazy looking for me. He says he loves me when we meet again. No! I don't buy it. I can't let him steal my child! ** "She's not yours!" The front door was locked and deadbolted, but it only takes Bastien and his Betas a moment to break past those defenses. As Bastien towers in the doorway, his silver eyes glowing with barely contained fury, I realize it's all over. Everything I've worked for these past three years is already lost; every tear I've shed and sacrifice I've made has all been for nothing. I come to stand in front of my ex-husband. Goddess I’d forgotten how handsome he is; how tall. It doesn’t feel right to be so near him without our bodies touching; it takes all my strength not to reach out to him. “Hello Bastien.” Whatever he was expecting, it clearly wasn’t this. His silver eyes stop their hungry head-to-toe scan of my body, settling on my face and blinking in surprise. I can see the gears turning in his head, piecing together the puzzle of my presence here and replacing shock with confusion and anger. “Is that really all you have to say to me?” I cock my head to the side. “What would you have me say?” “I thought you were dead!” He barks, making my wolf tuck her tail between her legs. Unlike my wolf, I have more than enough bad memories and regrets to withstand his ire. “Oh I’m sorry, did my funeral get in the way of your wedding plans?”

She is a Pure omega and queen of her pack, until her husband dethroned her and locked her away. Two of his sons discover the truth and ask the alpha of the enemy pack for help. But it will only accept on one condition. She has to be his And she will never belong to anyone

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

(Completed) It was supposed to be a normal visit to her Grandmother for the weekend ... Mia was supposed to spend a couple days in peace and quite with her granny until her best friend decided to tag along... The visit was going well and everything was set up right when suddenly it all turned into a nightmare.. A nightmare that she and Kevin would never forget for as long as they both lived... All it took was ONE JOKE ... ONE PRANK .... And their lives and fates were tangled together turing everything upside down beyond their imagination and limits, exposing their true selves along the way... ****Out of sudden Kevin came to my side and lifted me up on his shoulders with my head back and ran towards the attic in one swift move. I was shocked that I couldn't say or respond. His actions froze my mind instantly. I never thought he would do that. Then he put me down right in front of the attic door and pushes it open with his hands. CRREEEEEAAAAAAAAKKK The sound of the door opening gave me an instant shiver, my breathing stopped and I almost fainted. It felt like he was opening the door to my grave while i was still alive and threw me inside. I held onto Kevin's arms for support and he dragged me into the dark room as he stepped in ****

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.