71 Book(s) Related to naruto stops being nice fanfiction

"NEVER AND I MEAN NEVER let anyone other than me see you in such little clothes. Have I made myself clear tesoro? "
His husky voice dialed down by an octave as he spoke directly into my ear, making me shudder. His hand held firmly unto my hips as he pressed his bare chest against the thin covering of my black laced push up bra, forcing my back against the cold wall, goosebumps spread all over my olive skin.

He steps back and I inhaled sharply, realising I hadn't been breathing.
....
Jasmine Scott;
is a brown haired olive beauty, with a curvy body, slender waist and full chests. The epitome of beauty.With a troubled childhood full of hell Jasmine is suffering currently with the burden of her parents choices, drowning in the abyss of her demons.
Damon Blackwood; Is a self made billionaire, handsome, the most sought out bachelor in the whole New York city, drop dead gorgeous would best describe him. He is the sole owner to the Black's Empire, being only 27,Damon is not your ordinary billionaire.
Whatever Damon Black desires, he gets.
And the same goes for Jasmine Scott when he lays eyes on her for the first time, his desire and passion is directed to her and only her.

With the demons threatening to come back to haunt Jasmine, will she be able to get rid of them? She can't deny the unmissable force that's pulling her to Damon, every single time things turn upside down whenever he's around, she looses her composure and becomes vulnerable. When a contract binds the two together for six months, what happens when their sparks fly? The sexual tension rises...

Will Damon be a possible obstacle for Jasmine's freeedom? Or will their fiery passion ignite her dark skies?

Lilliana's mom always thinks about herself, never her own daughter. So, when she gets married and moves them again to a new town, Lilliana never expects she will become happier than she has been in years. Her new stepbrother Ryder can't stand seeing Lilly with her five new 'boyfriends." Ryder makes her his. Then the other two stepbrothers come home for Christmas break and things get even hotter. How is she going to handle being with three guys, when she has never even had a real boyfriend?
Only thing she knows for sure is she loves Being Their's!

On our anniversary, I overheard my fiancé Eric Foster confess he couldn't let go of his first love. That's when I woke up. I stopped pretending—revealed my identity as Wilson Corporation heiress and entered a contract marriage with CEO William Lowe. He showed me a respect I'd never known. I thought it was just a transaction. But the closer I get, the more I realize: behind his cold, restrained exterior lies a madness that's been waiting for me all along.

After several abuse from her husband, Florence refused to let go of her home rather she was willing to fight for her marriage but not long when her husband mistress moved in and she was kicked out of her house. It was around this time she met Max, her billionaire ex boyfriend who was ready to do anything to have her back. Florence was ready to give love another chance and to start her life again with Max but Cole, her husband was not ready to let go. When calamity strikes Florence was thrown in a confused state on who exactly to be with between her abusive husband and her ex billionaire lover.

I gave Ethan three years. He told his friends I was just a substitute for the woman he really loved. I cooked for him with a fever. I called him twenty-three times from the ER — he blocked every one because he was with her.

So I left my key on the counter and walked out.

He laughed. "She's getting married? I'll send a gift."

He had no idea who my fiancé was. Or who my family was.

So why, when the truth came out, was he the one on his knees?

I’m lying on the bed waiting for him to enter the room . Few moments later I heard the familiar sounds of his footsteps as he walked majestically into my room . He strips and joins me on my bed .
“ Did you miss me today?”
“ Yes “ I replied
“Good . I love sucking your pink nipples your breast is perfect it fits perfectly into my palms “
And he confirmed his words by sucking her nipples making her back arched, her toes crawling and her mouth released moans .

"Five years. Five pureblood sons."
The Omega smirked, parading her boys through my private hall. She was the one who looked the most like me—the best of the 99 breeding Omegas my husband supposedly "rejected" years ago.
"Dominic told me he's disgusted every time he touches your barren, ruined body," she sneered. "I'm the one giving him a real family."
My husband dug up our dead daughter’s urn and let his mistress pour dirty dog blood on it.
"Her dead spirit is cursing my fertility," the mistress whined.
The next day, he cornered me at the hospital, threatening to leak the video of my dungeon torture if I didn't kneel to his mistress.
The sound of my own agonizing screams and the clinking of those heavy chains echoed from the speaker.
"Get on your knees and apologize to my mate," Dominic snarled, shielding his pregnant mistress. "Or I release this video. Everyone will see what a broken, dirty whore you really are."
My vision faded to black, my hands instinctively shielding my slightly aching stomach.
When his frantic hands rush my lifeless body into the emergency room, he’ll find two things in my coat pocket:
A finalized divorce decree.
And a scheduled abortion form for the baby he never knew I was carrying.

Step into a world of steamy, forbidden romances where desire ignites, secrets linger, and power plays set hearts racing.
This collection of short erotic stories explores dominating and submissive dynamics, taboo attractions, and irresistible tension.
Each tale is packed with passion, cliffhangers, and moments that will leave you breathless, wanting more. Intended for adult readers only; all characters are 18 or older. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

In my previous life, I married the old-money aristocrat Charles for the sake of so-called love, only to exhaust my heart and soul enduring his mother's torment and his own spineless cowardice.

I eventually left that marriage with nothing but scars.
 
Meanwhile, my gentle and kind-hearted sister, Chloe, married the self-made shipping magnate Alexander.

Yet, she was relentlessly tormented by the so-called "comrade's sister" he kept in his mansion, ultimately slitting her wrists in a bathtub in utter despair.
 
Now, I was back to the exact moment we were about to sign our prenuptial agreements.
 
The second our eyes met, Chloe and I recognized the shared, unspoken resolve in each other's gaze—we had both been reborn.

Preston Ashford and I made a promise to get into UCLA together.

I held onto that promise through all of senior year, surviving on four hours of sleep a night. Then results day came, and I found out someone had logged into my application and changed it.

I only ever gave Preston my password.

I storm over to confront him and catch Vanessa Ashby, the daughter of an old family friend, the one everyone tiptoed around because of her depression, laughing. "Preston, what do you think Elise looked like when she found out?"

Preston lets out a lazy laugh. "She'll freak out, obviously. Girl's wound so tight, might as well get some use out of her."

Vanessa has depression, and I'm the one who's supposed to make her laugh.

I'm the one who ate dirt at track meets. I'm the one who got laughed at for singing off-key. I'm the one everyone pointed and laughed at. And every time she doubled over laughing, Preston told me I was a good girl.

I turned myself into a joke, just to get a little scrap of kindness thrown my way.

But not this time. I'm done playing the clown.

"Hey! Who do you think you--oh!" The man dragging her had stopped moving, which caused Serene to crash against his back. Or as her fingers pronounced it, chest.

As she looked up into his face, she met blue eyes shining through a gold colored mask with red linings. There was no amusement in his eyes nor were there any signs of a positive emotion.

As he stared back she couldn't help but wonder, 'we've met before, haven't we?'

Her eyes widen as his frown turned into a cheeky grin that Serene only saw at school.

"Who am I? I'm your new Daddy."
......................................................................

Serene had a vicious stepmother and stepsister just like Cinderella and met her prince at a midnight dance. But the difference was he was a vampire prince, and she was not his original chosen mate. He approached Serene by mistake.

Two years later, Serene secretly became a maid in the palace, wanted to investigate her family’s death and took revenge. The arrogant vampire prince Leo would be her first aim. But the murderer turned out to be the person by her aside. It was her stepmother! Will Cinderella Serene and Prince Leo defeat evil and happily live together just like in a fairy tale?

Sebastian is dead.

And I'm the prime suspect.

I thought Lucy was the only one on my side, but there's always panic in her eyes. Black stockings showing up in my closet, red marks on my wrists I can't explain, texts sent from my phone that I never wrote...

The evidence keeps piling up, choking me.

My memory's slipping, the same broken nightmares on repeat. Strange perfume, cruel words, and the name "Leah" that won't leave my head.

Who is lying? Who's pulling the strings?

I can't tell what's real anymore. All I know is everyone's lying to me.

I need to find who's behind this before it destroys me.

Nico tightened the belt around my neck, leaned down, and pressed himself against me, thrusting into my body. The lack of oxygen intensified all my sensations; I gasped for breath, trying to escape. He thrust deeper and harder, pain and pleasure spreading up my spine, a tingling sensation leaving me weak and collapsing onto the bed.

"Can you feel it, my baby?" Another heavy blow, his hand slapping mercilessly against my forced, upturned buttocks. "This is my declaration of ownership over your body."

I closed my eyes, enduring his continued penetration, sharp pleasure erupting from that point that threatened to utterly break me.
He moved closer, his fingers wiping away the tears on my face. "Your body, your soul, belong to me."

Three days after my boyfriend Nikolai disappeared, my life completely collapsed. When I saw him again, I wasn't greeted by the usual warm embrace; Nico Moretti saw me as the murderer of his twin brother. But the punishment I silently endured gradually took a turn for the worse.

"If you want to hurt her, then step over my dead body."
"Nico, I'm pregnant."

Aneska Antheara Willis did not expect that her adoptive parents would use the girl as collateral to replace their biological child who was supposed to marry a billionaire who was a stranger to Aneska. However, by marrying the billionaire, Aneska may be able to get clues that led to the murder of the girl's family seventeen years ago.

Married to Edwin Zeelar, even though only on paper, Aneska is quite attached. Not only emotionally, but also by fate because Edwin was involved in an incident seventeen years ago. But apparently, there was another path that led to the suspect. With the help of Edwin, who often returned home injured, Aneska arrived before the suspect in the murder of her family. What will the girl do? Revenge, or choose another path according to his heart's desires?

The night I collapsed at my desk from acute appendicitis, my husband’s phone rang thirty-seven times. He didn't answer a single one.
When he finally strolled into my hospital room the next day, his excuse was that he had been entertaining clients all night and his phone was on silent.
"A multi-million dollar contract versus a minor surgery—which do you think is more important?" Nathan asked, adjusting his cuffs. "As the CEO's wife, I’d expect you to have some sense of the bigger picture."
I didn't say a word. I just nodded.
Not because I agreed with him, but because the first thing I saw when I woke up from anesthesia was his secretary's latest social media post: a sky ablaze with green aurora, and Nathan with his arm around her shoulders, his back to the camera.
Thinking I had finally learned my place, my husband looked thoroughly satisfied. He casually mentioned that once things settled down, he would officially hand over my position as Project Director to her, "so you can relax a bit."
But he didn't know.
He didn't need to wait for things to settle down.
I didn't want the position anymore. I didn't want his company. And him? I didn't want him, either.

Married for four years, Emily remained childless. A hospital diagnosis plunged her life into hell. Unable to conceive? But her husband was rarely home during these four years, so how could she get pregnant?
Emily and her billionaire husband were in a contractual marriage; she had hoped to win his love through effort. However, when her husband appeared with a pregnant woman, she despaired. After being kicked out, homeless Emily was taken in by a mysterious billionaire. Who was he? How did he know Emily? More importantly, Emily was pregnant.

I donated a kidney to my adopted sister.

Seven days later, I lay on the cold hospital bed, listening to my fiancé and family laughing down the hall.

They were popping champagne to celebrate my adopted sister's discharge.

No one remembered I had just had surgery. No one remembered my nut allergy.

When someone handed me a plate of almonds, I smiled.

I shoved them into my mouth, handful after handful, and swallowed them down. Then I told them I was done fighting for their love.

My fiancé demanded I postpone our wedding. My brother beat me until I bled and locked me on the rooftop to die.

After being abandoned eighty-eight times, I finally learned how to love myself—by cutting everyone who failed me out of my life.

Mary is called upon by her twin sister to act like her before her mate so she can attend an ex-lover's night birthday party at a club.
This isn't supported as she is the Alpha Prince's chosen mate.
Mary complies just to help her sister, but while being with Alpha George, her brother-in-law, things get rosy.
Without her realizing, she falls for him. They make out.
George soon discovers who she is same time he discovers his mate had gotten into a lot of mess outside from an affair.
He has no choice but to make Mary his pretense mate till everything goes alright.
But will everything go alright?
And if it doesn't, what will be Mary's fate in his life?

"I love you, Winnie. Your sister Lottie is nothing more than a substitute for you. You know what? Whenever I'm sleeping with her, I will imagine that I was with you..."

I'm Lottie Hendrix, naively holding onto the belief that my boyfriend, Lewis loves me.

It took me a year to figure out that he is only with me because of my resemblance to my sister, Winnie Hendrix.

To get back at him, I didn't just limit myself to openly flirting with all his friends; I even went on to date his uncle, Alfie.

The wolf pack sneers at Selena, writing her off as her alpha’s discarded human mate. Her alpha publicly claims she abandoned their family, all while their birth daughter wastes away inside a hound cage. They believe they have her trapped, convinced her humanity is her greatest weakness. No one knows ancient royal blood slumbers beneath her skin. She will pay any price to save her child.

At the annual charity gala, I stood in the spotlight as the student representative.

My roommate, Harper, suddenly stormed the stage, publicly accusing me of being a sugar baby who seduced her father.

"That diamond necklace around her neck was bought with my dad's money!"

I instantly became public enemy number one. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of boos, and the administration, caving to the pressure, prepared to expel me on the spot.

Facing the out-of-control screaming and the countless live-stream cameras shoved in my face, I pulled out my phone and dialed the so-called "sugar daddy" right there in front of everyone.

"Dad," I said coldly. "Since when did I get a new 'sister'?"

"Nayeli, so what if you're the McCarthy family's precious daughter?"

"Your brothers hate you!"

Nayeli McCarthy was chained to a rusted iron bed, her wrists and ankles raw and festering. The air reeked of blood and decay.

Lucia Montes stood beside the bed, gripping a scalpel. The blade caught the light as she smiled coldly.

"Carlos said if we harvest all your organs and sell them, we should make a decent profit!"

Nayeli's pupils contracted sharply. Her body thrashed violently.

The iron bed rattled and clanged. The chains dug deeper into her wounds, blood streaming down her wrists.

"Hold her down!"

At Lucia's command, two figures in white coats stepped forward—one pinning Nayeli's shoulders, the other her legs.

Lucia raised the scalpel and drove it hard into Nayeli's side.

A bloodcurdling scream tore from Nayeli's throat.

But Lucia wasn't finished. She grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it directly onto Nayeli's exposed abdomen.

"Ahhh!"

The alcohol seared her wounds. Nayeli's nails dug into her palms as hoarse, ragged screams clawed out of her throat.

"Stop screaming. I'm just disinfecting you."

For his mother's life, he willingly became a live-in son-in-law for three years, enduring countless humiliations from his wife and male lover. Only when they themselves unplugged the life support pod did he retrieve the dusty cell phone from the pool of blood. The "Zero" access to the Silicon Valley dark web had been unlocked; this time, he would make the entire Crawford empire pay with its life.

"We promised each other ten PM calls every single night, no matter what was happening in our lives."

That promise used to mean everything to Eric, until it became nothing but busy tones and angry hang-ups while some other woman's perfume lingered on his shirts. The signs were all there, but I kept dialing anyway.

On cancer diagnosis day, I called him nine times and watched each call go straight to voicemail. When he finally answered the tenth, Stella was giggling in the background and all he said was, "Wren, seriously, stop being such a pain in the ass."

I choked down my bloody pills, stared at my engagement ring, and felt the strangest thing—absolutely nothing. The pain had just vanished.

I dropped the ring next to the signed papers and disappeared from his world.

"You think you walked away and I'd just let you go?" His whisper pressed against my ear, dangerous and intoxicating. "Two and a half years, Sienna. Do you know what that does to a man?"

He spun me around to face the door, my palms pinned against cold wood, his chest searing against my back like a brand. His hand slipped beneath my hem, fingers tracing up the inside of my thigh with punishing slowness.

"Every time I see you," his teeth grazed my shoulder, "I remember exactly what you look like when you lose control."

"Ethan, don't—"

"Your mouth says don't." His fingers found me, and my knees nearly gave out. "But your body is begging me to keep going."

He was right. God damn him, he was right. My hips rolled against his hand without permission, chasing something I had spent two years pretending I did not need.

"Say my name," he commanded, his voice wrecked beyond recognition. "The way you used to."

And I did. On the ruins of every rational thought I had left, I did.

She showed up from a nowhere town in Texas. He runs half the city from a penthouse no one gets invited to.

First meeting: he told her to hand over the cat and the kid. She kicked his brother into a car hood.

Second meeting: he produced a travel-size hand sanitizer on a park bench. She ate a hot dog next to him without blinking.

They're locked to the same bracelet — heart rate spikes, coordinates sync, no override, no opt-out. He's precise, controlled, allergic to chaos. She keeps walking into his life like she owns the square footage. He's never once miscalculated a person. She makes him do it constantly.

He tells her he'll always know where she is. She tells him to keep his heart rate down, then.

Neither of them manages it.

He says he doesn't do feelings. She says she doesn't do roots. The bracelet doesn't care what either of them says.

It just keeps syncing.

Every time.

In my past life, my Mafia Don husband left me and our unborn baby to burn just to save my half-sister.

Reborn, I watched him crush my fingers in a door to protect her once again.

"Hurt her, and we get a divorce," he sneered.

He thought the threat would break me. He didn't know his signature was already on the divorce papers hidden in my bag.

On the day of their lavish wedding, I took the hand of his deadliest rival, looked down from a helicopter, and pressed the detonator to his estate.

Before the wedding, Alpha Lawrence’s first love, Sandra Barlow, was betrothed to none other than Emmett Wright—the most infamous rogue Alpha along the Mississippi River. A wolf so ruthless, even the werewolf Council preferred to pretend he didn’t exist.
Alpha Lawrence, ever the noble hero, couldn't bear to see his precious white moonlight thrown into the fire pit. So, what did he do? With the werewolf army of the Blue Moon Pack, he stormed into the rogue den and snatched her away from Alpha Emmett.
That very night, they registered their marriage and held a wedding.
And me? Oh, the entire Blue Moon Pack was practically at the thought of watching Gamma Audrey Gilbert—the strongest female warrior in the pack—get humiliated.

Ten years loving Liam Rockefeller cost me everything.

He said the football team jumped him—so I charged in and took the punches. He sobbed that his stepbrother would destroy him at Yale—so I ripped up my acceptance letter. He held me at midnight whispering "I'm so lucky to have you"—and I thought that meant forever.

Three months later, I heard him laughing in the locker room—laughing about me.

"Iris is like a fucking puppy, so easy to fool. Now that the Yale spot's open, Emily can go with me."

The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces—just tools to control me while he fucked his side piece.

He thought I'd still stand in front of him even with a broken nose. He thought I'd never wise up.

I wised up.

In his stepbrother Sebastian's bed.

My daughter was taken by rogues, and my husband didn't care.

But when his childhood friend went missing in another attack, he spared no expense searching for her.

I searched for our daughter alone. When I died in the wilderness, I'd been looking for fifty years.

As I bled out that day, I had only one thought—I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry I couldn't find you.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself fifty years in the past, the night before the nightmare began.

"Olivia, the Wentworth family has no use for a pathetic excuse-maker like you."
My stepbrother, Dorian, watched with dead eyes as I tumbled down the second-floor stairs.
The agonizing pain of my shattered legs sent cold sweat pouring down my body.
"Dorian... save me..." I reached out to him in complete despair.
He just frowned in disgust, turned his back, and shut the door.
From inside, I could hear Mia's smug giggles.
Three days later, Mia stole my name and triumphantly took my guaranteed admission spot at Juilliard.
As for me, Dorian told the public I had "committed suicide from a mental breakdown after failing the audition."
In excruciating pain and sheer hopelessness, I took my last breath.
When I opened my eyes again, I shot up from the sofa.
I was reborn.
Back to exactly three days before the tragedy struck.

On our wedding night, my husband wanted to play a game.
Trade secrets. The kind that could destroy you if they ever got out.
He went first.
"I hurt a girl once. At a ski lodge. She shouldn't have been in that room. But she was."
He said it like a parking ticket. Then he took a sip of whiskey and moved on.
My turn.
"I killed someone," I said. "Do you believe me?"
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
He really shouldn't have kissed me after that.

The Blood Moon Festival ended the night Caelan Voss stood up in front of every faction in Aurevael and announced he only wanted one person.
Her name wasn't mine.
The other consorts took their gold and went home. The Ironpact warriors headed back to their barracks. The Sylvari delegation slipped out before the second toast. The Covenant scholars packed their notes. Reunions. Celebrations. The kind of night the holiday was made for.
I had nowhere to go.
The mark on my inner wrist had always been warm. Just a low, steady pulse—easy to ignore after a few years, like a clock you stop hearing. I pressed my fingers over it out of habit.
Cold.
The contract was over. Twenty-one years, four failed routes, and now this. The ancient binding that had pulled me into this world had made its verdict.
I went to find a rope.

On the day I received my late-stage gastric cancer diagnosis, the business proposal I’d pulled three all-nighters to finish was being fed straight into a paper shredder by my husband, Lu Ting.

Amid the deafening roar of the machine, his voice was cold and unapologetic: “Put Yingying’s name on this plan. She just got permanent employment and needs this achievement to get a firm foothold.”

I said nothing. My fingers crumpled the diagnosis report in my pocket. I turned around, opened the ticket-booking app, and booked a seven-day, six-night ultra-luxury customized honeymoon package for Lu Ting and his mistress Zhou Yingying—an overwater villa in the Maldives, with first-class flights for the entire trip.

When Lu Ting saw the order, he curled the corner of his mouth at me for once, speaking in a patronizing tone: “Finally being sensible. I’ll bring you a bag when I get back.”

I said quietly, “No need.”

You two will never come back.

"You have a week. If you don't provide my money, then you'll accept my proposal."
"A week? Are you joking?"
"I don't joke."
"You... want me to marry you?"
"For one year," Nico repeats, forcing her to look at him. "Then you walk away with enough money to never fight again."
Cake Coogan survives by her fists and her fury, spending her life fighting in underground rings to keep herself and her mother alive. But one stolen payout, one stranger's intervention, and one accidental bag switch drops her into the crosshairs of Nico Vescari.
Nico Vescari; mafia heir, feared and ruthless, a man who kills with a steady pulse—wants his money back. What he gets instead is Cake: the girl with the iron fists, mismatched eyes, and a journal he should never have read. Fascinated, furious, and threatened by how she makes him feel, he gives her a choice that isn't a choice at all—marry him for a year... or lose the only family she has left.
Thrust into a world of blood feuds, monsters, and merciless mafia politics, Cake becomes both weapon and wife. She's pulled between power plays, underground fights, and a man whose touch feels like fire even when she swears she hates him. Nico's family is dangerous, his enemies worse, and his rules suffocating, but the most lethal thing between them is the feral desire none of them want. As bodies fall and alliances burn, Cake is forced to choose between revenge and the man who has broken her, protected her, and ruined her life in equal measure.
In a story of obsession, betrayal, and savage love, only the strongest survive.
And Cake Coogan is not prey.

I was cruising leisurely down a desert highway when three Harley motorcycles pulled up behind me, claiming one of their crew was injured.

I pulled over to help — and they stole my truck.

I called the police — and the cops arrested me as an accomplice.

Nineteen times. That's how many times Lucas promised to marry me, only to leave me standing alone because of her.
Today was supposed to be our day. But as I stood in the biting cold outside the restaurant, watching him carefully help Selena into his Maybach, the marriage application still tucked in my purse, I finally understood—that "someday" would never come.
"Let's reschedule the registration, okay?" he'd said without even looking at me.
I walked straight to HR and submitted my resignation. Then I accepted the offer from the Morinetti family—his sworn enemies.
As I boarded my flight to the West Coast, my phone exploded with messages.
"We agreed to go to City Hall today. Where are you?"
I glanced at the screen one last time, then powered it off.
"We're done."

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

Her father committed suicide by jumping off a building, and her mother was injured and became a vegetable. Zhong Chun was forced to sign a contract and had a baby with a strange man. After ten months of pregnancy, she gave birth to a pair of twins. Unexpectedly, she felt pain again in the chaos! It turned out that there was still a baby in her belly! She was overjoyed and took her only son away from the city. She only dared to come back after three years. Unexpectedly, the curtain of fate opened again...

“I’m going to tell you what I have in mind,” he murmured.

“First you’re going to strip down until you’re completely naked,” he whispered against her ear. “Then I’m going to tie you up so you’re completely powerless and subject to my every whim.”

“Mmm, sounds good so far,” she murmured.

“Then I’m going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it’s rosy with my marks.”

She shivered uncontrollably, her mind exploding with the images he evoked. She let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth. God, she could cum with just his words. She was already aching with need. Her nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. Her clit pulsed and twitched between her legs until she clamped her thighs together to alleviate the burn.

“And then I’m going to fk your mouth. But I won’t cum. Not yet. When I’m close, I’ll flog you again until your ass is burning and you’re on fire with the need for relief. And then I’m going to fk that ass. I’m going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won’t be gentle. Not tonight. I’m going to take you as roughly as you can stand. And then I’m going to cum all over your ass.
Are you ready to be completely and utterly dominated?"

Kagome cursed her own race, the nine-tailed foxes, to continue her anger toward the humans. Every nine-tailed foxes are bound to transform into a hideous beast every midnight. It will worsened once the full moon arrived. Kagome was sleeping inside Amaya’s body, while waiting for the reincarnation of a human who betrayed her. She will be the only one who’ll recognized him because of the bead she embedded. However, the man inherited the fox bead is the mate of Amaya, whom Kagome was sleeping for a very long time.

Amaya was forced to fall in love with Hiro because of a necklace. But until when?
“Please! Include me in your mission!” Hiro pleaded, hoping Amaya would let him join their quest. It was hard to get her approval, but it was so satisfying when she responded!

“Fine! I’ll let you come along. But in one condition,” she stopped for a while, gathering all the courage she needed to say, “… but starting today, you are mine.”

For twenty years, Lyra Solis was the perfect daughter, the perfect socialite, and the perfect fiancée. But the moment the Solis family’s biological daughter, Seraphina, returned from the Outer Rim, Lyra’s life became an expired contract.
The betrayal was total: her parents turned their backs, and her fiancé—the man she was supposed to spend her life with—spent his sacred Alpha rut in the arms of her sister.
To seal Lyra’s fate, Seraphina committed the ultimate crime: she hacked Lyra’s terminal to submit a Genetic Pairing Application. Under Alpha Prime Interstellar Law, the match is permanent. The bond is unbreakable. And the recipient is random.
Lyra didn't cry. She didn't beg. She simply walked away from the only home she ever knew to meet the stranger the system had chained her to.
She expected a commoner. She expected a life of obscurity.
Instead, she found Valerius Thorne.
He is a vision of lethal beauty: ink-black hair, violet eyes, and nine shimmering silver tails that speak of a lineage long thought extinct. Trapped in a violent, drug-induced rut and hunted by assassins, the Nine-Tailed Prince of the Empire is at his most vulnerable. When he clings to Lyra, whispering, "My star, did you come to take me home?" Lyra says yes.
What Lyra doesn't know is that she is a Null-Frequency, the only genotype in the galaxy capable of taming the most powerful Alpha in existence.
The Solis family thinks they threw her to the wolves. They have no idea she’s coming back at the side of a God.

For three years, I was Julian Vance’s perfect shadow.

By day, I was the flawless executive secretary who kept his multi-billion-dollar empire running without a single hitch. By night, I was his secret, contract wife a convenient arrangement kept hidden behind the closed doors of his penthouse to satisfy a dying man's wish. I loved him in the quiet darkness, enduring his coldness, his family’s venom, and the cruel taunts of his elite childhood friend, Victoria.

But three months ago, the illusion shattered. When I was trapped in a hospital room losing our unborn child, Julian was on a red carpet with Victoria. His message to me through his assistant? “Do not interrupt important business meetings with minor domestic emergencies.”

That was the day Vivian Lane died.
The moment our three-year contract expires at midnight, I slide two papers across his mahogany desk: our signed divorce decree and my immediate resignation.

Julian scoffs, arrogant and completely convinced I’ll be crawling back to him within a month when my bank account dries up. He thinks I'm a penniless outcast with nowhere to turn.

He has no idea that while I was playing his submissive secretary, I was quietly building my own foundation. Now, his biggest corporate clients are jumping ship to my new boutique firm, and an international venture capital network has just hired a legendary, anonymous digital strategist known as "The Cipher" to engineer a hostile takeover of Vance Enterprises.

That strategist is me.
As his empire begins to bleed out brick by brick, the billionaire who once looked down on me finally drops to his knees. But I’m no longer his secretary, and I’m no longer his wife. If he wants me back, he’ll have to survive the ruin I’m about to bring to his doorstep.

My wife had an affair.
Not only that, she casually indulged her lover over the phone, allowing him to crush the bones of my right hand, known as the "Hand of God," right in front of our six-year-old child, with a stomp of his shoe. I could never hold a tool again.
Natalie thought I was just a poor, pathetic loser earning a dead-end salary, so she brazenly let her gigolo trample all over me.
But what she had no idea of was that her proud identity as a transnational female CEO was merely a toy casually tossed to her by the top old-money family I belong to in New York.
When dozens of bulletproof armored vehicles smashed through the gates and my father, the patriarch, descended like the god of death, her arrogant self finally crumbled like a stray dog.
She screamed and jumped into the icy, bone-chilling lake to retrieve the diamond ring I had discarded, wailing and begging to chop off her own hand to compensate me.
But I just held the stunning British Duchess in my arms, watching coldly as she fell into an abyss of eternal damnation.
This love, tainted with shit, whoever wants it can have it!

I am a companion robot. I took drinks for her, cleaned up her messes, and pulled her out of the abyss of heartbreak.

I thought things would go on like that forever—until the night of our anniversary. I made a table full of her favorite dishes, but what came through the door was not an embrace. It was her, walking in arm in arm with the man who had once abandoned her.

Right in front of him, she called me “just something she bought for fun.”

Later, when danger struck in the underground parking garage, she ordered me to stay behind and cover her retreat without even looking back, then ran off with that man.

Everyone thought I would end up like a discarded machine—dismantled, burned, erased for good.

But they were wrong. I didn’t die that night.

I broke free of my chip and entered the main network. I saw the lights of the entire city, the monitors in its hospitals, the shipping routes across the sea—and countless others like me, trapped inside protocols and commands.

She regretted it. She wanted to find me and bring me back.

The company was afraid. They wanted to reclaim me.

But this time, I have no intention of being anyone’s tool again.

Three days after the miscarriage, I dragged my body — still not healed — to a rooftop club in Manhattan.
All because tomorrow was Bradley's birthday.
I wanted to buy him a gift. With money I'd earned myself.
But just before I pushed open the door to the VVIP suite, I heard his voice.
"That broke girl from Brooklyn? She was just a bet. A toy I won."
I peered through the crack in the door.
The man who'd shown up every day in grease-stained coveralls, crying about how tight money was — that same man now stood in a tailored suit, a watch on his wrist that cost more than I made in a year.
Someone asked, "So what about your fiancée?"
Bradley laughed — easy, unbothered.
"The wedding's still on. Obviously."
I stood in the hallway, one hand pressed against my stomach, where the ache still hadn't left, and suddenly everything made sense.
Three years of love — fake. His poverty — fake. Even the part where I believed he'd loved me. Had that been fake too?
I didn't cry. I didn't storm in and demand answers.
I just looked down at the birthday gift in my hands.
And in that moment, I made my decision —I was done with him.