Anna expected a drunken conversation with a stranger. She didn't expect to walk into her lecture the next morning and find the same woman standing at the front of the room. What started as curiosity becomes friendship. Friendship becomes something neither of them wants to name and as the line between right and wrong begins to blur, both women are forced to decide how much they're willing to risk. Please leave comments and suggestions for future chapters!!!

Raelynn is living her life after her parents abandoned her in a alley way in the city, she is working in a hospital coffee shop, she refuses to accept the fact that she regresses as she was abused and denied it from her ex but deep down she wants to be loved and cared for again. Eventually she meets Emilia and her wife Charlotte and they start something beautiful and she finally had what she has wished for since a child.

She doesn't say anything, but I can see that the arrow I shot was sticking. She is trying to hide the mixture of emotions but I can see them in her eyes. Shock, then hurt, then anger. Then nothing. "Now I'm fucking done," I say finally. She tilts her head to the left and then right, closing her eyes and rolling her neck back. She takes a deep breath in and starts softly laughing. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. "Who," she says, her voice is low, she opens her eyes and looks back at me, "the absolute fuck," she pushes off the counter and takes a slow step foward, "do you think you are talking to?" Quickly the anger starts to sizzle inside me, my heart dropping in my chest. I take a step back instinctively as she takes another slow dragged out step towards me. The regret sets in along with the fear. What was I thinking. Oh god. What did I just say to her. "I think I need to remind you, little girl, who it is that you are speaking to," she says, her voice cold and dripping with danger, taking a final step infront of me. I am looking up at her now, my breath caught in my chest, her eyes are almost black, "because you will never, ever speak to me like that again." She begins to walk around me and my head turns to follow watching her, my stomach flipping. Her hand grabs my lower face and sharply turns it forward, making me freeze. "Do not look at me," she snarls, stepping behind me, her hand slips from my face, her nails dragging across my jaw and around the back of my neck, hand slipping up through my hair. She makes a fist and pulls my head back roughly, making me gasp, frozen in her grip. I feel her breath in my ear. "We are going to have a serious conversation after this about the nature of our relationship and how we are going to navigate this going forward," her voice is suddenly soft and gentle, "however I think there is a little too much sexual tension between us we both need to get out of our system. What are your safe words, Lenora?"

"Spread your legs for me." I climbed onto the mattress, heart pounding. I lay back and slowly opened my thighs, shutting my eyes tight because I knew how wet I was. The cool air hit my soaked panties, and I felt even more exposed. Andrea leaned down, hovering over me. Her lips pressed a small, almost gentle kiss to my neck. Then she whispered against my ear, breath warm, "I don't know what the fuck came over you tonight, Lalia, but don't ever do it again. Because there are repercussions, sweetheart." Her hands ran slowly down my thighs, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin. "These pretty thighs," she murmured. "Open your eyes, baby," she whispered. I opened my eyes, breathing hard. "Look at them. Look at what's between them. Look at your whole body. Do you see it?" I nodded. "They're mine," she said, voice low and possessive. "Every single limb. Every nerve. Every inch of your body is mine, Lalia. I don't want you to ever think they are not." ..... Lalia Bishop is tired of the pills, the white walls, and the careful way people talk to her like she's glass about to break. Diagnosed with borderline personality disorder after a suicide attempt, she's been in and out of psychiatric hospitals for years, cycling through therapists who either pity her, fear her, or grow frustrated with her unpredictability. None of them lasted until Dr. Andrea Cross.

Olivia Carter, a preppy young woman, takes the plunge and leaves sunny Malibu for the gloomy streets of Seattle, hoping for a fresh start. She's juggling a low-paying gig at a start-up media company and helping out at her friend's café, but money is tight-thanks to student loans and the insane cost of living. So, in a moment of desperation, she decides to get a roommate. Enter River Jones. The last person Olivia would've ever chosen to live with. River's a wild, loud streamer who seems to have zero consideration for Olivia's sleep schedule. The late-night noise and chaotic streams make Olivia want to scream. What she doesn't know? River's actually a hugely successful streamer with a massive following. Now Olivia's stuck living with this wild, unfortunately sexy, unpredictable whirlwind of a woman... and it's starting to get real hard to ignore the tension. How long can these two keep their distance without everything coming to a head?

[SLOW UPDATES] "Why are you so against wanting me, Princess?" She whispers in my ear as she keeps me against the wall, reeking of alcohol. "I know you want me just as much as I want you..." My breath hitched as I looked up at her, taking in those green lustful eyes that peered at me measuredly. "Tell me you want me." She says, expecting me to answer her - no, she wants me to answer. I don't have much of a choice. "I want..." I spoke up before being kissed aggressively. - - - Amelia Monroe is a 22 year old woman who lives a horrible life with her parents who seems to care more about drugs than her. Until, one day from work she comes home to see her parents debt collectors holding them at gunpoint. - ! WARNING! This story contains: Violence & Crime Intersex woman (G!P) Drugs Blood ** Rankings #1 Protective December 24, 2025 #1 Intersex January 31, 2026 #1 Conflict January 30, 2026 (Cover image belongs to the respectful owner(s). Please do not copy or use anything from my story without permission.)

Katie was kidnapped and sold at 16. She was rescued at 17 after over a year of abuse that involved her and a group of other girls being used and kept strung out on drugs by their captors. It took almost four years for her to recover both physically and mentally, but now Katie is ready to venture out and reenter the world. But she has a secret. When all of the girls were rescued, the group that did so made sure to hunt down and eliminate everyone that had sold them to the human traffickers. Everyone gave the names of those they knew to the vigilantes that took care of them, but not Katie. She just told everyone that she didn't know who had done it. But in reality, she knew very well who had ruined her life, and she was going to go pay that bitch a visit. Trigger Warning - Past mentions of SA and murder Note: This book is a spin off of the Dreams I'll Never See books (Including Flirtin' with Disaster), as well as from Whiskey and Rye. Yep, we're merging some books!

𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 does not believe in second chances. Not with people. Not with love. Not even with herself. Since her husband's death, she has drowned her feelings in wine and work. Same drink, same restaurant, same routine. Until one day she notices a younger woman and hires her on a whim, telling herself it is nothing more than company. 𝐍𝐨𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 does not have time to fall for someone. She is too busy holding down her job, keeping her sick mother afloat while sinking herself. When she is offered the chance to become a private chef for double the pay, she takes it, telling herself it is just work. Just friendship. Nothing more. It is about how some things leave, yes. But some things stay, even when you're sure they shouldn't.

She reaches for my right hand, brings it between her legs without asking, and drags my fingers through her. Once. Twice. Slow, filthy strokes that coat my skin in her slick heat. She's drenched, so wet the sound is unmistakable, and the scent of her arousal floods the room like a drug. She presses my soaked fingers to my mouth, smearing herself across my bottom lip, my tongue, the corner of my jaw, down the column of my throat until I taste nothing but her. Then she leans in, voice ragged against my ear. "Feel how easily I get this wet just thinking about owning you?" she whispers. "That's what you're walking away from if you don't rewrite the contract exactly how I want it." My knees go painfully numb, before I feel them again. She sees it. Her smile is slow, cruel, victorious. She steps back into the crimson silk, zips it with a sound like a blade sliding home, and smooths it over her hips as if she didn't just destroy me in under thirty seconds. _______________________________________________________________________________ Two powerful women. One vicious high-profile murder case. A private contract that binds them in ways ink never warned about; obedience traded for torment, defiance punished with slow, aching pleasure. Milan Moretti: an untouchable Chicago prosecutor, wealthy and feared, who rules courtrooms by day and claims craving women by night, denying release until they break and beg. She never loses. Never bends. Never obsesses... until Zara Winslow, her brilliant, defiant mirror, crashes back into her world and awakens something feral. Forced together amid media storms, extreme tension and secrets, their rivalry explodes into a binding agreement where desire is leverage, punishment is exquisite, and control slips into consuming obsession. Who will shatter first in her hands?

Two families best kept secrets collide in a moment of fate itself. The Prince of Bronwyn and the Legacy of the Cardinals. Neither should exist. Both highly frowned upon and cursed for their very existence. A broken product of royal affair and the perfect unknown ploy for revenge. The weight of either alone would be enough to drive anyone mad, but together it may become something else entirely. Both such highly damaged individuals stretched to their wits end. What could the result be of one in the presence of the other? A disaster just waiting beneath the surface, a mix potent enough to kill, or maybe a cure neither one saw coming?