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Just a Kiss? Time for Divorce

Just a Kiss? Time for Divorce

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.
Short Story · Romance
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Her Angels (Reverse Harem)

Her Angels (Reverse Harem)

A sexy story with an interesting and unique plot. Mythology with a twist and Reverse-Harem relationship. Join Mila on her new journey... after death. Angels are indeed real... and so are the Greek Gods of Greek Mythology. What happens to Mila when she is gifted by Aphrodite, Eros and Peitho themselves? With so much love, beauty, sex and seduction, your bound to many intimate, lustful, romantic, moments... and multiple lovers. This story is mature. With 6 different relationships... there will be many sexual adventures, to sweet vanilla sex to rough/ light BDSM play. Their will be Girlx Girl action and also BoyxBoyxGirl included in this. So if your naughty minds think you can handle this... give it a read.
Romance
1037.2K viewsCompleted
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They Called Me the Freaking Rulebot

They Called Me the Freaking Rulebot

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."
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Rejected Their Broken Luna

Rejected Their Broken Luna

"Tell me how do you want me to make it up to you??" I asked, putting myself at risk by asking the big bad alpha wolf that question. "I'm not simply interested in having sex with you," He smiled and came closer, running his finger up my neck, "I want to experience everything with you." "How about not wearing any clothing whenever we are alone in this mansion?" I gasped in shock as he murmured into my face. (Content/ Trig*er Warning: The following read consists of extreme profanity, violence, or gore. Subjects like SA and abuse are briefly discussed that might be difficult for some to read)
Werewolf
9.187.1K viewsCompleted
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Leticia Lewis
Loving the book and story line. I really want to see Cynthia stand up for herself more and stop being slapped around. I hope we find out what happened to her wolf on the O hall, why she was in the bathroom for 5hrs and does the truth ever come out I hope all gets revealed cause I am invested.
Jhazz Tejada Jac
Hi author! I like your story and I’m always looking forward to the new chapters,.. but,can you please make Cynthia character Fight back already ... im heartbroken everytime they break her’I can’t wait to see them sufferl!
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JESSBLUE OF BLUESTORIA

JESSBLUE OF BLUESTORIA

Hey, everyone! My name is Jessblue. Well, I come from the world of Bamptillia and you all know me as Cristina's sister/best friend. This story is about my life before I met Cristina or became this fierce badass Bampire warrior. Overall, my life consisted of slavery and abuse, but my heart also lost the only love that it knew. Why? Well, for you to love and understand my character, JessBlue, from Bamptillia, I must take you to the beginning, where it all started for me on the Crite of Bluestoria. I must go back to where everything changed one day and my world took a turn, but did it take a turn for the best or did it take a turn for the worst?! We shall see in this journey I will take you on; sometimes life is unfair, and we need to embrace every moment we live and breathe. Trigger warning: This has extremely mature erotic scenes and dark erotic scenes. May include rape, rough sex, abuse, assault, death and other forms of torture. So, please, be aware before reading. If you believe any of these topics may upset you, please, do not read this book. It has not been written to trigger or upset anyone, so I would rather you not read it if you think any of these topics will have this result for you.
Fantasy
101.3K viewsCompleted
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Mad in the Horde

Mad in the Horde

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.
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The Don Was Only a Smoke Screen

The Don Was Only a Smoke Screen

Crashing WavesFeel-Good StoryMafia
After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"
Short Story · Mafia
2.4K viewsCompleted
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I Took His Crime, He Took My Family Fortune

I Took His Crime, He Took My Family Fortune

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."
Short Story · Mafia
2.5K viewsCompleted
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Cecil

Cecil

Reedsy
This story is all about love and sacrifices. A central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending. This is just a short story but I know who ever will read this story is gonna love it.
Romance
101.9K viewsOngoing
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Serving Karma, One Delivery at a Time

Serving Karma, One Delivery at a Time

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]
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