|DARK ROMANCE| STALKER| OBSESSIVE LOVE THREAT LEVEL: NO WAY OUT "I want to imprint my name on your heart, but I will settle for fucking you senseless instead." A stripper who escaped a fractured childhood, she thrives beneath the music-until a highly valued assassin becomes obsessed with her light. With a love so lethal it taints her, Rue finds herself on the edge of sanity. And when her past finally catches up to her, she chooses him over safety. Because monsters don't scare her. Being caged does.

18+ || Please be aware that this story contains triggering and adult content. (TW: Violence, DV, SA, substance abuse, CNC, prostitution.) || This story may be uncomfortable for some audiences, and that is understandable and natural. The title "Fine Lines" literally refers to the fine lines between kink and abuse/assault and how fine those lines can get. It is meant to be uncomfortable and even controversial at times. If this is not for you, I wouldn't recommend this story. I honestly feel a weight being lifted as I share some of my own personal experiences. I hope Fine Lines also walks the reader through the developing mindset of the protagonist throughout the story. I hope it speaks to other survivors. Peace and love always x

Luken Hunt is a virgin. A 23 year-old, NHL-playing, star-forward virgin. He's spent years dodging the post-game parties, the groupies, the endless opportunities that come with being a pro athlete. He's too focused on hockey, too awkward, too... completely out of his depth when it comes to women. Then Brooklyn Launder walks into his life. Sharp, stunning, and absolutely off-limits, she's the sports reporter who's seen it all-cocky athletes, bad pickup lines, and men who think they can charm their way into her life. But Luken? He's different. And when a flustered interview of his goes viral, turning the league's most unapproachable player into everyone's favorite bashful hockey heartthrob, Brooklyn finds herself just as intrigued as the rest of the internet. So when he confesses he's never even been kissed properly, Brooklyn makes a proposition-a few lessons. Just to help him out. A kiss here, a little guidance there. Nothing serious. Until the first lesson turns into two. Then three. And suddenly, Luken is learning fast-not just how to kiss, but how to touch, tease, and drive Brooklyn absolutely insane. But with the media watching, a locker room full of relentless teammates, and a career that demands all of him, Luken has to decide if he's ready to risk it all-for the one thing he's never had. A slow-burn, forbidden, scorching-hot hockey romance where the shy, virgin hockey star gets the ultimate education-and the woman he never saw coming. 𓅷 [SMUT Warning] [18+ Mature Audiences] Don't copy my work I will find you 🔪 4/14/25 1 in #sports 1 in friendswithbenefits 1 in hockey 1 in badgirlgoodboy 1 in nhlhockey 1 in nhlfanficton

𝐒𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫, an incoming freshman at Arizona state, earned her place. 𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐨 has already created his reputation. From the moment she challenges him on the mat, something shifted. The rivalry created burns hot and fast, every practice. But what makes Sienna restless isn't his strength-it's the way he watches her, how he learns her patterns, his attention lingering long after every match is over. The harder she fights him on the mat, the more his focus shifts off it. What begins as a friendly competition for her, twists into a dark and twisted fixation for him. Because Logan doesn't just want to beat Sienna. He wants to break through her and once he sets his sights on something he wants, he doesn't stop. - I was flat on the mat, shoulders pinned, legs trapped beneath his. I twisted against him trying to break free from his grip, but he moved with me, always one step ahead. "What happened to it being just a 'friendly' practice?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion as I look up at him. He leaned low, his chest pressing against mine, while his hands gripped my wrists, keeping me from rolling free. "Did I say that?" he whispered along my ear before going lower and placing a kiss against my neck. I tried to move against him, but it only made him tighten his hold and his mouth move across my neck making my strength falter. This wasn't practice anymore. And for some reason... I didn't want it to be.

"Tell me you don't want that," his darkened eyes clashed with her dazed ones, "Say it, and we'll stop right now. Tell me, and I'll go." Silence hung in the air, the distant hum of passing cars and crickets fading into the night. "Cause I have every intention of making you my wife, the mother of my kids, my everything. I want that. I want you. Understand?" Her eyes welled up, and her lips trembled as she swallowed hard, then nodded quickly, "I want that too." "That's what I thought, baby." ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Cerise Rowan liked to keep things simple. Her days were a steady loop of sleep, eat, study, repeat. She told herself she valued comfort, though in truth, change terrified her. With change came anxiety, and her mind, already a delicate balance, struggled to cope. Her favorite S-words: sleep, solitude, and snacks, were enough to keep her "mild" disorder in check. Until another one entered her life. Well... two. If you count sex. ♡ Saint Novak lived by two rules: stay comfortable and take each day as it came. With his intimidating presence and (mostly) emotionless exterior, he wasn't exactly easy to get to know. He didn't waste time on dead ends, keeping his life decisively organized. People and things included. But Saint's problems were far from "mild". For years, he believed he had nothing to lose. Now, he's learning what it means to have goals, to want more, and to keep what's important to him close. So what happens when he walks into his parlor and is greeted by a new face? A very pretty face. One that stirs desires he didn't even know he had. Well, one taste of her is more than enough to set a few more goals.

"You got three seconds to open this door before I kick that bitch in," a deep voice growled through the wood. Zamara's heart jumped. She wasn't expecting nobody-especially not a man with a voice that rough and mean. "Nigga, who the fuck-" she started, yanking the door open. And immediately regretted it. He stood there like a shadow from hell. Tall. Broad. Tatted. And mad as fuck. A black hoodie hugged his body, revealing a Glock tucked at his hip. "Where. The fuck. Is Kyndall?" he asked low and slow. Zamara crossed her arms over her chest, attitude activated. "I don't know, and I damn sure ain't scared of you standing here mean-mugging like you somebody daddy." A smirk curled on his lips. "You should be scared, ma." Then he leaned in, real close. "But lucky for you... I don't hit women. I just fuck 'em crazy and make sure they don't walk right for three days." Her breath caught, but her mouth didn't. "Boy, please." "You gon' be sayin that from my bed soon. Watch."

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 is an innocent, kind, and unshakable girl that is...until 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝; the Star quarterback, he's untouchable, mysterious and the guy she's tutoring that decides he wants her. He watches, waits, and tests her boundaries. Desire turns dangerous, and obsession doesn't play fair between these two ☆ "Did you really think you could keep me away?" He murmurs as his hands close around my wrists, not rough, but firm enough to remind me who's in control. He lifted them above my head, and I kept my eyes on the hallway. "Two weeks no contact, that really hurt me," The grip around my wrists tightened. "You can run all you want, but I will always be right there..." His eyes dropped down my body, while his one free hand dragged down my sides before running across my ribs causing a shiver. "Ten steps ahead ready to snatch you up into the darkness until it consumes you whole" My breath was caught in my throat, I'm scared, really scared because this wasn't the guy I had hung out with. I didn't want to cry or show weakness, but he's really off right now. He leaned into me, close enough to my ear before speaking. "I knew this was coming. It's a pattern with you." I couldn't bring myself to tell him to stop and that I'm scared while the tears streamed down my face. And It was simply because I didn't want him to. "I always get what I want and right now you deserve a punishment for how you talked to me," My teary eyes met his as he tilted his head and slowly shook it. "All I want right now is you bent over my lap; your bare ass up and prepared for me to play with my pussy while your head is in my lap." I tried to blink the tears away as I felt my nipples get hard just from those words and the wetness coming over my body made me feel disgusted with myself. I never wanted something more. ❝Please Killian,❞ said below a whisper, knowing exactly what I was askin

What happens when two people who exist in the gray spaces of control and chaos, find in each other the permission to feel without restraint? Freya has spent her life as a ghost in her own skin. Brilliant but reserved, introverted in a family that treats her quietness like a defect, she's learned to live small, to want nothing, to expect even less. She's never craved the messiness of deep connection, never understood the appeal of letting someone see the raw, unpolished truth beneath her carefully maintained surface. Enzo is a different kind of controlled intimidating, stern, a man who moves through the world with the kind of presence that makes others step aside. He lives in the gray spaces between right and wrong, and he's made peace with it. When they collide, something breaks open. The walls she's built crumble under his attention. The control he's maintained fractures in her presence. What begins as intellectual intimacy long conversations that peel back layers rather than clothes becomes something neither of them can contain. "I will feel this as deeply and express it as violently as I please." It's the philosophy that drives this entire story the idea that feeling deeply isn't weakness, that expressing it boldly isn't chaos, and that sometimes the most profound act of courage is letting someone witness you unravel. Welcome to their collision.

I cupped her face, planting a soft kiss on her beautiful lips. "Don't ever run from me, baby," I said softly, letting my thumb trace her jaw. "I love the chase." Her jaw tightened, her hands coming up to try and move mine. "Stop calling me baby, Ezra," she snapped, eyes flashing. I couldn't help but grin, dropping my voice to something low and dark. "Ohhh, now my baby has a problem with me calling her baby?" She shot me a glare, but I just tucked her hair behind her ear, pressing another kiss to her lips-gentler this time, lingering. "You don't get to tell me what to call you, baby." I leaned in closer, brushing my nose against hers. "You're whatever the fuck I call you."

When 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 22, drops out of college after her father is sentenced to prison for a crime he swears he didn't commit, her life collapses fast...eviction notices, unpaid tuition, a mother barely holding it together. Then 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧 appears. Late 40s. Private wealth. No digital footprint. He offers her a monthly allowance for companionship only. No sex. No exclusivity clause. No explanations. What unsettles Kailani isn't the money. It's how little she needs to explain herself because he already knows.