Name Tattoo Designs For Male

On the day we reported for the new semester, my girlfriend had just been admitted to one of the country's top universities. That morning, she suddenly told me she had chosen the wrong major and wanted to take a year off to retake the entrance exam. I knew exactly why. It was for her childhood friend, the one who had not made it. Her parents begged me to talk her out of it. After a night of painful deliberation, she appeared downstairs at my dorm and said, "I've made up my mind. I won't retake the exam. Let's stay together and make this work." However, during the freshman welcome event, just as her name was being called, her phone lit up. A message from him. [My prep class started today. My deskmate isn't you anymore. It feels so strange.] She went completely still. I tightened my grip on her hand and warned her quietly, "If you leave now, we're finished. Forever." She whispered an apology, dragged her suitcase behind her, and walked out of the campus.

“You're annoying. I can't even spank you. Get up.” “Do it.” I was dying to be manhandled by this man. “I can't. You don't want that and when we finish, you'll hate me. Get up." “Making decisions for me already as always?” I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Get. Up.” “No.” My anger reached boiling point. I did get up, but I reached for my pants instead. I'm leaving. “Oh no you don't. Come here.” He grabbed me, then pushed me to the wall. My wrists were suddenly above my head, My chest rose and fell erratically in anticipation. My face was against the wall and I had my back to him. “You want to be treated like a whore. okay. I'll fuck you so good, you'll never ask for it again. If you cry to me, I'll send you to Selena.” I breathed hard. “Accepted?” “Fuck you, Varce Bosta.” I spat, and I already knew the asshole was grinning even though I couldn't see his face. “That's it baby.” Then he pushed in, hard and deep. I saw stars. …… I infiltrated a biker den, disguised as a boy to kill the man that killed my mom. I'm her second daughter, and now the heir to my mother's wealth since my sister is also missing, presumed dead. Turns out he suddenly lost his memories and he was also the hot stranger I had a one night stand with, the same night my mother got assassinated. He gave the orders to kill her. I planned to put a bullet through his head, but I couldn't let him die guiltless with lost memories. I'll stick around till he regains it. What I didn't expect was to fall for him and the sinful orgasms he gave me when he found out my true identity.

He inherited billions… but not the family name. Noah Quinn was just a broke mechanic—until a dead billionaire claimed him as his son and left him everything. Now thrust into a world of boardroom sharks and backstabbing heirs, he’s got one rule: trust no one. Especially not Lena Vale—the billionaire’s ice-cold stepdaughter who wants him out, humiliated, or dead. But secrets don’t stay buried forever. And in this empire of lies, power isn’t given… It’s taken.

Atasha is accidentally inlove with her fuck body Kite until one day she found out that she was pregnant. He planned to tell Kite that he will become a father but she found out Kite proposing to his girlfriend.

Ten years ago, the Harrington family went through a home invasion. My mother, a maid, shielded Liam with her life. Holding my hands tight, Liam promised, "Andrea, don't worry. I'll protect you forever." I believed him. Our bond grew naturally, and we had a beautiful daughter together. Then, she was diagnosed with leukemia. In her last days, all she wanted was to spend one birthday with her dad. I called him, desperate to make it happen. "Millie doesn't have much time left. All she wants is one birthday with you. Can you come?" His voice on the other end went icy. "Really? This your latest stunt? Using your dead mom wasn't enough, now it's our daughter for pity? Disgusting." I tried to deny it, but he cut me off. "Don't mess with her head. Learn from Vivian—she's got a real heart." That night, our daughter passed away. Later, Vivian posted on social media: [Finally taking that couples' trip someone promised me!] I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just texted Liam: [We're done.]

My sister-in-law, Cynthia Ziegler, has my name written on her cancer diagnosis report. As such, the entire Ziegler family assumes that I'm the one with cancer. Overnight, my husband, Leonard Ziegler, sends a text message to his mistress, Irene Ludlow. "Our time will soon come! That old bat is about to die at last, so I'll finally be able to marry you!" My grandmother, Amanda Powell, cries and clings onto my hand, begging me not to seek treatment. She is not only discussing with Leonard on how best to split my insurance money after my death but also employing various methods to hasten my death. However, they are all unaware that Cynthia used my medical insurance card when she went for her physical examination. I feign sadness and nod with tears in my eyes. "I won't seek treatment, Mom. Let's not seek treatment no matter who is diagnosed with cancer."

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

I wish my husband were dead. I married him to save someone I loved. Now I’ve been trapped in this loveless marriage for years. He parades his mistresses right in front of me. Strikes me if I say something he doesn’t like. When he’s away on one of his business trips, I head to a bar to blow off steam. My intention is to go home alone, but that changes when I see him, the sexiest man ever. He buys me a drink. Stares at me in a way my husband never has—or any man ever. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, it’s all the right things. Asks if he can take me home, and I want to scream my answer at the top of my lungs. But I decide to tell him the truth instead. “I’m married.” My husband isn’t faithful to me, but he’s dangerous. Dangerous, as in, he kills people. Lots of people. “And my husband is someone you don’t want to cross…” “I’m not someone you want to cross either.” His stare doesn’t falter with the information. On his right hand is a diamond ring, carved into a human skull. Built like an ox, he looks like he could be dangerous too. The energy he emits from his strong body is subtly hostile, but not directed at me. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” I should say no—but I don’t think I can.

My name is Greyson Langley-just call me Lang. I'm a heavy-metal band player who just back from a concert tour. On my Clofus campus, I reunited with my friends and my beautiful four crushes. Later, I heard about the largest prostitution complex in South East Asia was threatened by being evicted by the government. There, I met a prostitute with a golden voice with a dark past. So, I promised to free her from that despicable valley. Later, I found myself torn between five different women in five irreconcilable lives. The deeper I became involved in their lives, I catapulted into the intrigues of a world that threatens my life and may shatter my heart. And even my nation's democracy. One day, I found a diary written by my grandfather, which made me enlightened also threatened. Stranded amid love, danger, passion, and violence, I should choose between myself, my lover, or my nation. What I begin in compulsion now becomes my urgent need. Come, read my story ... If you dare! WARNING: This story contains adult, explicit, disturbing, and sensitive material. Reader discretion is advised.

I rush into work this morning and accidentally send the car photos meant for the dealership into the medical intern group chat. The new intern snaps at me. "Dr. Tyson, why are you sending me pictures of my car? Are you jealous and trying to steal attention?" I stop short and ask if she has mixed things up, because the car is mine. She fires back with a whole stack of photos of herself driving a G-class with one hand, plus videos to prove the car in my picture belongs to her. She even tacks on a snide little jab. "You're a shameless, broke wannabe. You want any spotlight you can grab. You think a picture of a car is going to make you the lady of the Reed family?" I frown and turn to my husband, Jackson Reed. "Since when does the Reed family have a second lady of the house?"