Power Button On And Off

It's hard when you're betrayed. It is doubly hard when relatives and everyone you consider family turn away from you. And it hurts unbearably when it turns out that the one you love more than life was the cause of your troubles ... But any pain has its limit. And devoted love can easily be reborn by hatred. Banished from the pack? It's bad, but what's stopping me from creating my own? Erase my memory? Unpleasant, but I was able to remember everything. Wanted to deprive me of a wolf? But I will never forgive you for this!

TEQUILA SET | $EX STORIES ⚠️ Trigger Warning sexual harassment คุกคามทางเพศ ทั้งพูดและกระทำ sexual Assult / rape มีการล่วงละเมิดทางเพศ / ขืนใจ BDSM / NC / PWP / ADULT ONLY TURN ME ON สวาทร้อนซ่อนรัก (3P+) ยังไม่ระบุพระเอก   Honey / ฮันนี่ ( ยาหยี ) ลูกครึ่ง ไทย / รัสเซีย "แล้วนาย....อยากจะลองดื่มเตกีล่า สักช็อตไหม?" "เพื่อว่าเราจะเข้ากันได้ง่ายขึ้น?" Bear Brown / แบร์บราวน์ - หนุ่มหล่อไฮโซในสังคมชั้นสูง ผู้ไม่เคยต้องเกรงกลัวใคร - ลูกชายเพียงเดียวของนักการเมืองชื่อดัง ผู้ทรงอิทธิพลมากคนหนึ่งของประเทศ อย่างท่านคามิน ว่าที่แคนดิเดตนายกรัฐมนตรีคนต่อไปของประเทศไทย Lion / ไลออน - มาเฟียหนุ่มเลือดร้อน ผู้ไม่เคยแพ้ให้ใคร - ผู้สืบทอดตำแหน่งหัวหน้าแก็งมาเฟียใหญ่ ฮ่องกง อาณาจักรค้าอาวุธปืนเถื่อน และรวมไปถึงสิ่งผิดกฎหมายมากมาย Dragon / ดราก้อน - คุณชายหนุ่มเพลย์บอย ผู้ไม่เคยเป็นที่สองรองจากใคร - ทายาทเพียงคนเดียวของ บริษัทเบียร์มังกร

Using an alternative account, I secretly join a cycling group chat that my husband, Liam Johnson, is in. One day, an announcement is made in the group chat. "We'll be organizing a weekend mountain biking activity with an overnight stay, with two people sharing a room. To add some excitement, we'll be drawing lots for room assignments." I can't really understand it. Curious, I ask, "What if a man and a woman end up drawing the same room?"

On the day I was supposed to donate my bone marrow, my mother called me. “You’re pretending to be sick again? We’re just asking you to donate some bone marrow. Why are you acting like we want you to die?” My brother agreed. “How could you be so horrible? You owe her this one! Even if she’s asking you to die, it’s because you deserve it!” Even my boyfriend could not hide his anger. “It’s just a bone marrow donation. We’re not asking you to die. How could you be so selfish?” They did not know that I would indeed die if I donated my bone marrow. Since they wanted me to die so much, so be it.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

I would say all I wanted was to find my mate and live a peaceful life, but I would be lying; all I wanted was to go to the palace, give up my life, and have them send me to the other side of the world. If it were up to me, I would have done that the very first day everything turned upside down, but that’s far from what Alpha Zander wanted; he wanted me to experience hell on earth; he said death was more than I deserved; accidentally killing not one but two of his mates would cost more than my life; he kept me alive as a slave, tortured, humiliated, and if possible, took my soul, so when I turned out to be his mate as well, it didn’t come as a surprise for him to reject me and bound my powers and send my wolf into a deep slumber; it was no surprise his parents chose him a chosen mate; those people adored their perfect luna, Jocelyn, my dead sister—his first mate. And just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse, I found myself on the auction stage, men bidding for me like I was some kind of property, and next the ruthless Alpha, who, by the mention of his name, people trembled bought me, “bride, not slave,” his three words. I learned that even though he was ruthless, he was soft on me, and not only that, we had a common enemy (Alpha Zander), and he was willing to help me get my revenge. Oh, Alpha Zander, get ready to be on your knees because my mate and I are coming for you!

I was dumped because of my weight. My stepmother tried to comfort me, saying, "It's okay, it's okay. A little extra weight is good." I watched as my graceful sister took my place and married my fiancé. Meanwhile, I was sent abroad to be "fattened up like a pig." I barely escaped with my life and endured unimaginable hardships. Now, those who hurt me should, at the very least, face justice for their actions.

After six years together, Hansel Johnson comes to Miranda Sutton with an arm around his new lover and tells her he wants to break up. Miranda doesn't kick up a fuss. She packs her things, takes the exorbitant sum of money he gives her as compensation, and moves out without hesitation. Hansel's friends make bets on how long Miranda can stick it out this time—everyone in Jandersville knows that Miranda is madly in love with Hansel, after all. She loves him so much that she can cast aside her pride, dignity, and temper. They're sure she'll come begging for him to take her back in three days, at most. But when three days come and go… Hansel's the first to lose his composure. It's his first time giving in to Miranda. He calls her and says, "Have you had enough of this nonsense? If you have, you'd better come back." Unfortunately for him, he only hears a man chuckle on the other end of the line. "It's too late to change something once it's done, Mr. Johnson. There isn't anything in this world that can turn back time." "I'm looking for Miranda. Pass the phone to her!" Hansel snaps. "Sorry, but my girlfriend's too tired. She's just fallen asleep."

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.