Dabi X Hawks 18 Novels & Stories

"I'm a lecturer… You can't do this to me…" Kieran Walsh drops by to ask me a couple of biology-related questions. He insists on making me demonstrate the answer in person. When he grinds against me with that rock-hard and powerful body of his, I can barely withstand the pleasure. "You've never felt such intense pleasure before, have you?" I feel Kieran pinning me on the desk, my legs already parting on their own unconsciously. As for the remaining biology-related questions that he still fails to understand, maybe using my body to teach him isn't a bad idea.

Deep in the night, I saw my son, Carl Turner, drinking a bottle of milky white liquid. I was shocked by the discovery. Our next door neighbor was a pregnant lady, and to top it off, she was the mother of Carl's collegemate. Right after that, he whipped out his phone and played a questionable video, all the while working his other hand under the sheets. In the video was none other than the intimate moments he shared with that pregnant lady! I felt an itch in my heart as I thought of the pregnant lady's daughter, who had just reached legal age. The supple body of a young woman and those alluring curves in all the right places… Since she took advantage of my son, then she had no one to blame for me taking her daughter.

I'm at the amusement park with my husband and our daughter when my blouse—still damp from breastfeeding—catches the eye of a father from my daughter's kindergarten class. He secretly takes pictures of me and starts blackmailing me, demanding a taste. My husband and our daughter are close by, but he grows bolder by the minute and orders me to undo his belt.

"Mr. Harrison, this new toy has incredible suction skills. I guarantee it can fix your problem." Never in my wildest dreams would I expect that my husband would make me disguise myself as a sex doll to help treat his boss' impotence, all just to secure a promotion and a raise for himself.

An Alpha? 😀 Yes—an artistic one. But this time, it’s not him. It’s her. Ayla Cross, a tattoo artist who thought she had escaped her past. But no Owner of The Runed Den, she spent her nights inking stories onto other people’s skin, never realizing her own was hiding one. Until the night he walked in. Kian Vale—a mysterious stranger with eyes like liquid silver and a voice that carried thunder—came seeking a tattoo that matched the mark from Ayla’s dreams: a sigil of power older than any pack legend. When she inked it onto his skin, something inside her awakened. Her tattoos began to move. The moon itself seemed to breathe with her heartbeat. Now hunted by two rival werewolf clans, Ayla learns the truth: she is the Runed Luna, the lost heir of a bloodline thought extinct, born to command the ancient runes that shape reality itself. But every mark she draws binds her closer to Kian… and to the curse that could destroy them both. As shadows close in and bloodlines clash, Ayla must decide: Will she rewrite her fate in ink and moonlight— or be consumed by the story written beneath her skin? Unknown to you. Unknown to me. What could happen next?

"I'll wait until you're old enough!" Was accepted by a young CEO as a personal servant when he was having trouble earning money to treat his mother's illness. "Agree to marry me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life." Violet was proposed at the age of 15 by Basil, a handsome and wealthy CEO. But when entering the world of the rich, there were rules that were not to be broken, but Violet broke them. Violet also accidentally found the killer who killed her father. Will Basil be able to wait until Violet is old enough to get married when Basil already has an arranged marriage and Viole is too young to be able to resist the plots to kill her? How will Basil protect Violet?

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.

"Don't move!" Coming home late from work, I was sneaking a shower in the shared bathroom of my rental when a warm body suddenly pressed up against me. His rough palm clamped over my mouth, pinning me against the cold tile. He held me there against the damp wall, his skin burning hot against my back as he let out a low, gravelly threat. "My guys are right outside. Just try and scream." Instead of panicking, I leaned back into him, shifting slightly. I tilted my head back and breathed softly into his ear. “So… you want everyone hear? I don't mind… we can give it a try.”

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

"S-Stop it! You guys are far too big for me! I can't handle you at all!" In the dark slums, a few impoverished men have me lifted in mid-air. I can feel four pairs of rough, callused hands parting my slender legs, revealing my panties. "And here you are, pretending to be pure and innocent! Look at how wet you are right now! You must be yearning for our touch, right?" After that, the men rip off my damp panties before pinning me down…