Dishonored Stories Novels & Stories

He said and walked away, leaving me confused. I couldn’t stop my intrigue, I wanted to find out what he meant so I tried to catch up with him. I overheard my name as they were playing their game. I stopped in my footsteps. “Hmm.” Lori spoke. “He’s happy with his Cinderella, isn’t he? The prince and the pauper.” She laughed. There was something dangerous about rich people when they got bored. They loved turning embarrassment into entertainment. I had a feeling something was going to happen. I hated when I couldn’t predict what was going to happen.

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.

I'm working overtime to make sure of that. god, I don't even know if y'all still remember the storyline, and I'm sure a lot of people got tired of waiting and just gave up. That is no one else's fault but mine, and I apologize again. happy new year, by the way❤️❤️❤️

My heart kicked hard and my pussy twisted under me. Hell, I knew what I was doing was wrong. I mean… the bastard was a wanted criminal with a bounty on his head that was worth more than the Odyssey. He had hijacked my ship and worse of all, turned Assista-bot against me. Well… that part may not be true, but everything about this situation screamed disaster. I knew it did, but I didn't care. None of it mattered. I was willing to dive into that disaster without a second thought… because I wanted him.

“It was raw, okay? He fingered me, then slammed in deep. I came twice hard. Begged him for it. I hate that I’m saying this to you, but yes, he filled me up and I loved how it felt. His experience, the way he gripped me… it wrecked me. But I didn’t know he was yours.” Victor stood then, letting the pillow drop. His cock hung heavy, still glistening from us. He didn’t reach for clothes. “We can’t undo it. The papers are nearly ready. This was the push I needed. But seeing you two here…”

"Used to be. Gave it up when the stories started costing more than they were worth." That answer carried weight, the kind that invited questions but also warned against them. I set the mug on the low table in front of me and leaned forward slightly. "What kind of stories?" "The kind that get people hurt when they come out wrong. Or when they don't come out at all." I felt a flicker of recognition then, something tugging at the back of my mind like a half-remembered name. "You sound like someone who has been burned by the industry."

Covered in blood, her voice weak as she whispered, "Mom… When will Dad come home… I'll be good… I won't eat candy… I won't ask for hugs… As long as Dad comes back and loves me a little more… Okay?" At that moment, my heart turned to ash. I stared at the dark muzzle of the gun, the last trace of warmth in my chest extinguishing completely. Memories surged. Six years ago, during a power struggle within the family, I was betrayed by the underboss I trusted most. At the critical moment, Blake took a bullet for me. Back then, he was nothing–just an illegitimate son struggling at the bottom. After I recovered, he confessed to me, blushing, that it was love at first sight.

“Hmm? Rumors about me? Haven’t heard about it. I just hope they were good rumors and not bad.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh come on. As if you haven’t heard any of those yet.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Promise! I’m completely innocent about those rumors. Tell me, what are those about?” “I don’t want to. It’s… embarrassing on my part.” “You’re blushing! Come on, I’m curious what these are all about.” What the hell. I could feel my cheeks heating up. Thankfully, we have reached the shower room. I was about to turn my direction toward the female shower room when Adrian held my arm.

She had been here for twenty minutes and had counted forty-seven lies. The woman in the red dress? She wasn't in love with her husband. She was in love with his money. The man by the bar? He wasn't laughing at the joke. He was laughing at the man who told it. The couple by the window? They weren't holding hands because they cared. They were holding hands because they were afraid of what people would say if they didn't. Elara had grown up in rooms like this. Not the gold and the silk and the champagne. But the gambling dens and the back alleys and the desperate, sweaty rooms where her father had lost everything he'd ever loved. The lies were the same. The lies were always the same.

Kianna The campus rumor mill had grown claws. No matter how many threads or anonymous confession posts Marcy managed to scrub from the student boards, the story mutated faster than he could delete it. Links to archived threads popped up in group chats. The whole university was talking about the midterm scandal, and none of them had the facts right.