Marine Saying Novels & Stories

“Give it” I ordered, gesturing to my mask and lingerie. “Give them to me.” Something playful trotted in his eyes. “Take them” he toyed. I lunged in, and he leaned back, shifting to the side until I collapsed first against the cotton sheets. I turned to look at him, and he towered on top of me, looking down in a way that rolled spikes over my flesh. I could feel the heat from his body, and as if he noticed, he leaned closer. Until his breath steadied over my neck. “Max—” “What?” He said it so innocently. Like he didn't know what he was going. Like he… “You're the one holding my shirt.” I suddenly noticed the silk feel to my hand. My fingers already starting to mindlessly wander over his buttons. Let go. Let go Bianca! Why won't I let go?! “Does that mean I have permission to this?” *** To make earns meet, a struggling college student creates an OnlyFans page with a hidden identity. Her secret pays the bills, keeps her in school, and protects the quiet, invisible life she’s built. Until one message ruins everything. “Hi, Bianca.” Someone knows who she is, behind the mask… and he wants to meet. The culprit, a man that belongs to her best friend. A longing that should be off limits… until it isn't. Caught between a darkness deeper than her wildest imaginations, a desire stronger than the control that slowly slips away, and a truth that could destroy her reputation, Bianca is forced into a dangerous game of control and temptation. Where saying no is never simple, and saying yes could cost her everything.

My new dormmate thinks my boyfriend is a player and advises me to break up with him. After I politely reject her, she gets mad and complains about me online, saying I'm love-addled brain. Her video goes viral, and the online community calls me an ingrate who doesn't know what's good for me. When I see the smug smile on my dormmate's face, I slap her without even batting an eye. "Stop acting like you're a champion for feminism when all you can think of is making yourself seem better than other women!"

I made my way directly to the library with the present I had for Asher all nicely wrapped up, ready to be torn open. I was so excited and nervous at the same time. When I arrived at the library, no one was there. I sat there for a whole 20 minutes waiting for Mr. no show. I felt stupid for thinking he would actually come. I got dolled up for no reason at all. Maybe I’ll still meet my mate today. Then it won’t be for no reason. I got up from the table seat and went into the hall, hearing a lot of whispers regarding my new appearance. Some asking if I’m a new girl, others saying I’m trying too hard and others saying I look drop dead gorgeous. I didn’t know how to feel about myself. As I was wandering around the halls waiting for school to start, a smell hit me like a truck. It filled my lungs and took over my mind. It was the smell of after the rain had fallen. Petrichor. "Mate", I growled. I let the scent lead my feet to where my mate was. I was so excited and my palms are sweaty. It led me to the janitor’s closet and before I opened it I heard a moan. I put my ear to the door and heard shuffling. “Hurry Saige, I smell my mate, I can’t let her meet me like this.” I know that voice my heart skips a beat, fear and anger covers my heart like a blanket. It can’t be. It can’t be. There’s no way.

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.

“…Should anyone here know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." "I do!" A sharp voice bombed the church. Frowning, I turned my head toward the owner of the voice who dared to object to My wedding. And there He stood. My vicious rival. The man I hate the most. The Pakhan of Bratva! Aleksandr Fedorov. "On what ground do you object?" The priest demanded. My face was turning red in anger while He smirked with his eyes set on mine. "Because this bride is already married to me.” I blinked up at him. Married to him!? What the hell was He saying! ***************************** No one knows that it's a fake marriage. A contract marriage to fulfil the last condition of taking over Cosa Nostra. I didn't hear what the Priest was saying, nor did I pay attention to my groom. The white wedding gown was the last step for my crown. I, Aria Salvatore Knight, was going to be the first female Capo dei capi. The one who was going to make history in the world of organised crime. But my hopes and dreams died because of him. My reputation was shattered because of him. He made me a joke in Cosa Nostra and now it's his turn to pay for his sins. Love, betrayal, killing, conspiracy, suffering whatever it costs, Aria knight was determined to become the first Female capo of Cosa Nostra. It has been her aim since her childhood. But what would happen when she was rewarded with the unwanted title of something on her head too, which would create big havoc in Cosa Nostra? The Bratva Queen! Well, Let's dive into the bloody story of the Ice Princess and the Merciless Monster.

On my daughter’s birthday, I showed up at her after-school program unannounced to surprise her. When I mentioned to the instructor that I was Maddie’s parent, she furrowed her brows. “Are you saying that you’re Maddie’s mother?” I nodded, feeling a little displeased. Though her father, Matthew Rowe handled the drop-offs and pick-ups, the instructor had no business giving me an attitude. Nevertheless, the instructor promised to bring Maddie out right away with a huge grin. As she turned away, I decided not to make a big fuss out of the matter. The next minute, the instructor emerged with two burly men. “That’s her! She’s here to abduct one of the kids!”

After I fail in my mission, I am about to be erased by the system and will disappear from this world completely. In the final 24 hours before I am erased, I agree to donate a kidney to my younger brother, Zachary Durham. My wife, Judith Sanford, hugs me excitedly and says she will not divorce me anymore. When Zachary plagiarizes my design, I take the blame and admit that I am the one who copied it. My parents nod in satisfaction, saying I have finally become sensible. Finally, I become the good husband and son they always wanted. But when they see my lifeless body sometime later, they all lose their minds.

There's this old saying that says, "A kiss is considered one of the most powerful medicines the world could offer." Many believe that even a single but simple kiss can brighten the dark, change sadness to happiness, cure all kinds of illnesses, and most importantly, it is free of charge. Unfortunately, all of them do not apply to me in any way. I believed that my kiss was cursed as it could darken the light, make everyone's mood terrible, and worsen all kinds of illnesses. The worst part of it is that I can't risk offering someone a single of my kisses. For you to have a quick tour of my terrible and unforgettable past, everything began the second my age has turned eighteen two years ago.

My older sister Katie said she missed me and requested I visit her. The second day at her place, the apocalyptic heatwave arrived. I fought tooth and nail in the supermarket for food and coolant—she told me I'm shameless and have no self-respect. I offered a high price in the community chat for supplies—she sneered at me and said that anything stored for so long must be disgusting, contaminated by bacteria. Yet, she threw herself into the arms of the man living across the hallway just for a bit of food. While cuddled in his arms, she watched me die in the heatwave. When I opened my eyes again, I heard her on the phone saying she missed me. Well, keep on missing me!

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.