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Blood Legacy

Blood Legacy

Carrie DeLuca, a not quite normal teenager with lots of behavior issues and a seriously fucked-up life, meets the biggest trouble of her life: a werewolf with lots of anger issues and a clear obsession over her... What can she do? Run as far as possible away from him or stay and try to fight him off? "His strong and big hands tightly gripped around my wrists as he forcefully held them pressed against the door and at the level of my shoulders, feeling my bones hurt so fucking much that I thought they were going to snap after just a little more pressure added. Yet despite the sickening pain I refused to shed a single tear, challengingly looking right back into his glimmering emeralds. "I am not afraid of you," I spat between gritted teeth, noticing that devilish smirk tugging at his naturally pink lips. "How about now?" He wickedly whispered, feeling my entire body fill with pure fear and horror as I watched his eyes change from their emerald green colour to an unnaturally glowing golden, hungrily gazing at me. His hand quickly pressed against my mouth, abruptly silencing that scream that was about to erupt. "Don't bother. No one will believe you,"
Werewolf
182 VuesOngoing
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The Alpha’s Unwilling Heir-Bearer

The Alpha’s Unwilling Heir-Bearer

“She tried to escape. I think she wants to go rogue.” The guard said.  Sabrina’s eyes snapped to me. A smirk curled on her lips as she walked forward. “Tried to escape, did we?” she said, her blue eyes slicing into mine. “Leave us.” The guards obeyed. She moved in, gaze sweeping over me. “Whatever made you think your scrawny little body could outrun two strong guards?” “Sabrina, you have to let me go. I don’t want to be your handmaid. Please. Let me go.” I begged.  Sabrina laughed, sharp and cold. “Oh, you’ll serve me whether you like it or not.” She leaned closer. “You won’t just serve me, Elowyn. You’ll mate with the Alpha and carry his child for us.” My breath caught. “What?” Her smile deepened, her voice soft and slow. “I can’t be the one who fulfills the prophecy that Kieran’s Luna will die in childbirth.” She stepped even closer. Her eyes locked on mine. “You will bear his child, Elowyn.” She said it with such certainty that my blood ran cold.  I stared at her, horror rising in my throat. “You want me to die instead of you?” Sabrina said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her smile said everything.
Werewolf
174 VuesOngoing
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Teach Me, Ruin Me, Professor

Teach Me, Ruin Me, Professor

Hatice Natividad just wanted a fun night out with friends. But after a few too many drinks, someone dared her to kiss a random guy. Drunk and laughing, she did it. She kissed a stranger. He kissed her back. One thing led to another, and they ended up in bed. The next morning, Hatice woke up sore and confused. Beside her was a man. Naked. Asleep. She screamed. He opened his eyes. And to her horror, it was her cold, serious, and insanely attractive professor!
Romance
123 VuesOngoing
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Crimson Bloomed: Ascend

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.
LGBTQ+
129 VuesOngoing
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Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore

Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.
LGBTQ+
119 VuesOngoing
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Beyond the velvet curtain -  The mafia Lord rule

Beyond the velvet curtain - The mafia Lord rule

I watched him in horror as he plunged his silver dagger into my brothers heart while keeping eye contact with me. Tears started rolling down my cheeks as my brother struggled with his life, "Please let him go" I pleaded tearfully. He stared at me coldly before he cackled wickedly saying "I thought you said you are ready to accept me the way I am wife, this is the real me do you still want me? it's not like you have a choice I am your husband". Yes he was my husband, the ruthless and heartless european mafia Lord who doesn't give a fuck about anybody's feeling. ***** In the dark underworld of mafia rule, 18 year old Aurora is ruthlessly sold to the feared Lord Logan Drew, who harbors secrets and hidden agenda. As she navigates the landscape of Logan's mansion she was forced to obey his every command. Aurora struggles to adapt to her new life as a captive in Logan's opulent mansion. Will she find a way to survive in the treacherous world of her new owner, or will she succumb to the darkness that surrounds her?.
Mafia
79 VuesOngoing
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The Beloved Granny of the Death Game

The Beloved Granny of the Death Game

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”
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