Application That Reads Text Novels & Stories

Rated 18+ | Extremely Explicit | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised You're not just reading smut-you're stepping into fantasies too bold for real life. This collection delivers raw, unapologetic, toe-curling tales that dive headfirst into taboo temptation, dominant lovers, and scenes dripping with lust and power play. Each chapter brings a new pair (or more 😉), new kinks, and wild scenarios-from forbidden office affairs to brat-taming bodyguards, hot professors, naughty neighbors, and secret hookups that should never happen... but do. Some stories are told in third person. Others? You'll be the one getting pinned, spanked, or seduced-written in Y/N POV so you feel every sinful second. So if you're into steamy, twisted, dirty-as-hell reads that don't shy away from the filthy stuff-this is your new obsession. Let's be honest. You're not here for the plot. You're here to get ruined. Warning: This book is soaked in desire, soaked in sin... and soaked in more.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"

My stepmother—my father's new mate—demanded the code to the safe. The safe that held my mother’s moonstone amulet. I ignored her. I was too busy preparing for the pack's centennial blessing ceremony. Not long after, she sent a second text: "Since you wouldn't reply, I had someone force it open. The stone is way too big, though. I'm having it cut down so it looks good on me." I dropped the candlestick, shifted, and tore off toward home. But I was too late. The moonstone lay shattered in the middle of the living room. Its lunar warmth was gone. Heartbroken, I roared, "That belonged to my mother! How dare you touch it?" Livia lounged on the sofa, lazily filing her nails. She didn't even bother to look up. "I needed a necklace to match my dress for tomorrow. You didn't text back, so I handled it myself. Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic? Do you know what that was? It wasn't just my mother's, it was—" Boom. Alpha aura slammed into me like a mountain. My legs gave out instantly. My father—Marcus, the Alpha of our pack—stood before me. His golden wolf eyes shrank with fury. "Your mother has been dead for twenty years! Why do you keep bringing her up just to upset Livia? Show some respect to your Luna!" I stared at them, fighting the agony tearing through my wolf. Livia let out a bored yawn. My father shot me a look of pure disgust. Hands shaking, I let out a cold laugh. They had no idea. That amulet wasn't just my mother's legacy. It was the pack’s only conduit to the Moon Goddess for the centennial ceremony. Without it, the entire pack was doomed.

My CEO wife insists on taking a young, fresh intern under her wing. She wants to train him personally. She says to me, "Don't overthink this. I just value his potential." She's always been stern and stoic, but she starts dressing in pink and pulling her hair back in high ponytails. On our third wedding anniversary, she and the intern even willfully disappear for 48 hours. When others are searching for her like mad, she shares photos of her riding a carousel and holding cotton candy. She captions them, "I found the purest of joys in the most joyful of places—all because of you!" Our company loses a huge project because of this, and I lose my wife. I slip a divorce agreement between the pages of the intern's application to become a permanent staff member. My wife signs it without even looking and says, "Knowing what Elliot can do, he's more than capable of carrying out the role of a vice president." I calmly hand her my resignation. "You're right. That's why I'll make way for him."

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

One wrong text and her Christmas will be one she wouldn't forget in a hurry. Red is trying to rekindle things with her sweet ex, Darren but her cold, controlling boss, Alton Donovon, shows up at her apartment the night she mistakenly sexts him. She swore it was an accident, he doesn't believe her. Alton has been watching her for longer than she realized. He’s always been an asshole… until one slip pulls them into a spiral that forces him to confront the way he truly feels. And this Christmas, he plans to make her admit her feelings. Even if that entails following her all the way to Maysville, the little town she grew up in. And with Darren tagging along too, this Christmas is about to be one for the books.

Little wolf believes she can run, thinks she can hide from me! Silly little wolf, doesn't she know we will always find her! There is no place on God's green earth, my brother, and I will not chase her too! Just to see the tears rain from her pretty blue eyes as we, yet againdestroy everything she holds dear and watch from the shadows as she isforced to return home- to us! To her destiny! Text: You can run, but you can't hide little wolf!***Blamed for the brutal murder of the pack's Alpha, Aurora was forced to flee the only home she had ever known and leave behind the man she loved for fear of his twin brother, the man she was meant to marry and his insatiable need for revenge!

Jennifer Lockwood and Greg Davenport thought they would be together forever. Breakups and differences in hobbies couldn't separate them. But then came the phone and text that put an end to all that dreaming. He decided to go on a journey that she couldn't follow him on. Meanwhile, she ended up with her original plan of going to law school. Everything goes well for her until a devastating call leaves her shattered. Now she's left deciding. Deciding about her future, about what to say to the man in the bed in front of her, deciding whether she can love. While he falls in love with her, she's left with the memories of everything that happened before. Can she return to that life where her heart got broken, or is she forced to walk away and break his?

I am reborn with memories of my past life. And I carry a secret with me: my fiance, Ethan Larsen, had forged our marriage certificate. The one he had actually married was Serena Gray. But I do not expose his lie. Instead, I quietly submit my application to Greenvale University and eventually become a permanent resident in Verenza. In my past life, I spent a lifetime believing in a lie. I thought I was his wife, until I learned the truth on the day he died. He married Serena out of love but kept me only due to his sense of duty. On the funeral day, Serena arrived dressed in white, holding the actual marriage certificate in her hand. She effortlessly took over all his inheritance, while I was thrown out of the house, penniless, with nothing left but a trampled heart. In this life, I will no longer beg for love nor stay put out of pity. I'll leave quietly and live freely. They can keep acting out their so-called "perfect" love story. Because now, I can see it crystal clear—some women are born to be loved, while others are reborn so they don't have to wait to be loved.

During an elective class, the campus belle, Jemima Ford, who is our senior, describes her ideal type with everyone egging her on. She says, "My future husband has to be at least six feet two inches tall. His parents must be college professors, and his grades should be top three in his major…" The room buzzes with teasing chatter and gossip. At the same time, I snap up my head in surprise. Why does Jemima's description of her ideal type sound like my boyfriend, Elijah Sanders? The next second, the professor standing by the podium smiles obsequiously and says, "Very well said. If Eli hears this, he'll definitely be very happy! Later, the two of you can meet. That way, he won't get tricked by some naive girl into going abroad." Amid the burst of laughter from the class, I lower my eyes and look at the message my parents sent me. It reads, "Sweetheart, are you really going abroad with your boyfriend? There'll be no one left to inherit our company with you gone."