Surrender Stories

Fate plays the game but heart pays the price. Alina Monroe doesn't love - she commands. Cold. Untouchable. Ruthless. Feared by governments and worshipped by men, she rules two empires - one built on gold, the other on blood. But power has a price. Behind the flawless facade lies a woman built from ruin, betrayal, and secrets that could burn nations. Then comes Arin Black - all faith, light, and impossible kindness. He should have been her enemy. Instead, he becomes the only man to ever see her - and the only one capable of destroying her. What starts as fascination turns into obsession. What begins as control becomes surrender. Together, they are fire meeting fate - beautiful, dangerous, and destined to fall. When love turns into war, even queens must bleed. And Alina Monroe? She's about to find out that the heart doesn't break from weakness... it breaks from loving too deeply. - A dark, emotional tale of power, obsession, and the kind of love that ruins everything it touches. This story solely belongs to me and is a result of my own imagination it may contain mature scenes.

Vera was never taught how to love without losing herself. Her obsession didn't arrive suddenly-it grew slowly, like rot beneath the skin. Every thought bent toward him. Every breath felt borrowed unless it carried his name. Going to his apartment wasn't a choice. It was inevitable. The walls watched. The air felt heavy, bruised with unspoken desires and buried violence. His presence stripped her of reason. Silence between them wasn't empty-it screamed. When he looked at her, she felt owned, undone, reduced to need. The bed became a battlefield of power and surrender, where affection tasted like cruelty and closeness felt like captivity. Nights blurred into something dangerous-touch laced with control, longing twisted into dependence. Vera didn't want tenderness. She wanted to be consumed. To disappear inside him, even if it meant destroying herself. She knew he could ruin her. She wanted it. Because Vera doesn't love to survive. She loves to bleed, to break, to belong-even if belonging means losing her soul. Some girls dream of forever. Vera dreams of obsession.

Every day. Every feeling. Every fight. In this life. I published this book because I believe people share similar lessons, just in different timelines. And here, I express my realizations in time of uncertainties; the lessons that made me grow; and the reminder of whose child I am. Therefore, I want to share this work to remind you as well as we never know who might need a word to keep dealing in this world. We may be different- unique in our own ways But we are one, to the ONE, at the end of these days.

This story revolves with a criminal and his targets. Also about the love which eventually entered his life, following uncertainty and the cycle revolution.

James does not want the title Alpha, but he does want the title of her man. Follow the adventures of a guy who realizes he is enough.

Ridhima leaned closed to me . "vansh let's makes a deal." she whispered . I frowned . "what's the deal?" "I want you to be my boyfriend ." two unlikely strangers agreed to fake relationships so as to achieve a mutual goal: to get rid of their exes or in vansh's cases , his seductive boss's wife , but the last things they expected was to be entangled in the disguise . THIS CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE.

"Get in the car, sweetheart", he demanded, his jaw clenching as he gripped the car handle just a little tighter. "You must be batshit fucked in the head if you think I'm gonna listen to you.", she countered, aggravated at him but more so herself and how irresponsible she had been these past few weeks. He slammed the door shut and strode over to her calmly, making her even more nervous. His thumb and index finger tilted her chin up, forcing her brown eyes to connect with his icy gaze. "I wasn't asking." ------------------- At the age of 34, Azra Goenka is still finding her place in the world. After 8 miserable years in a loveless marriage, Azra has finally freed herself from the clutches of her possessive husband and her demanding family. With all this freedom, she isn't quite sure what to do with it. A one night stand certainly wasn't on her to do list. Oh well, she'd live. At least until he shows up on her doorstep making all kinds of demands. His gorgeous and infuriating and younger, oh god so much younger. And suddenly, Azra's life is spiralling out of control.

Before you enter, know this: This is not a love story. It is a confession. A slow dance between ruin and desire. A tale of what happens when two broken souls find comfort in each other's fire... and choose to burn. There will be no heroes here. Only scars that kiss back. Chains that feel like silk. And a kind of love that doesn't ask permission It takes. If you're looking for happy endings... Put this book down. But if you're ready to bleed beautifully, Welcome to Velvet Chains.

You are a girl who love creepy pasta who was wondering through the forest at night and bumped into a real creepy pasta I don't own any of the pictures 2017

Seven years ago... I was his stalker. Three years ago... I was his wife. Two years ago... I was his ex-wife. Since the day he left me, my life has never been the same. It seems like I gathered all life's misfortunes - my mother died from cancer, our family business went down and my dad could not face the shame so he killed himself leaving me to take on the responsibilities of paying his debts. I have to work hard to make ends meet. I worked as a baker, a dance instructress, and an entertainer in order to pay the debts as well as to support myself. I was trying to be okay until he came back. He manipulated everything - owned the bakeshop where I worked as a baker, paid me to give him private dance classes and made me agree to perform in private with him. Do you think that is already worse? Nah-uh! He my family's debt so I am obliged to pay him based on his terms. I am Patricia Sandoval, sold to Stuart Cordoval - I am his personal assistant, private chef, personal dance instructor, exclusive entertainer and on-call bedwarmer of my beloved ex-husband. This may sound absurd, but yes, I am sold to my ex-husband. Note: This is originally a story written in Filipino but since there have been requests for its English version, I am going to slowly upload an English translation of this story.

Life goes on... Or does it?

kutulis tentangmu, yang tak lagi menemani hari-hariku sebuah bentuk perasaan, yang masih mengharapkanmu pulang -follow, vote, comment thanks for ur support!{}

Love calls for trust and support. A person may look happy but can be broken deep inside and their wounds only heal if one with pure intentions and a heart full of love fills their life with comfort and care. Sometimes just a few sentences of care and closeness can heal a person from within. This story stares Mihir and Janvi. Janvi, who is a girl full of life, filled with mischievous thoughts, has a very adventurous vision towards life, who doesn't know where she will be tomorrow but knows certainly that she will be happy, meets Mihir, who is a straight forward, tortured by circumstances, rather rude, emotional from within kind of a person.

Poems with morbid themes and dark thoughts.

Sequel to [surrender]

A short story in which a boy named Patric tells about his life experience. Hope you'll enjoy it, I really would love to get reviews and comments, I never tried to write anything like this before, it's my first emotional handwriting.

a short story of a shortened life

"Is it going to hurt? What does it feel like?" He shrugged and looked back down at my side making my skin heat. Reaching out a gloved finger again, he touched the bottom part of the tattoo. "This part won't be too bad. I tickle you harder than what you'll feel," he said with a mirthful smile. He shifted his finger higher, finding the top of the tattoo under where my bra strap would normally be if I hadn't moved up the thin band already. It was terrifying and exhilarating, that touch, and it confused every cell in my body. "Here is going to feel like a cat scratching sunburn." "Pleasant," I gritted out. He laughed at me as he pulled the sheet of paper away from my body. "I do have to warn you though, these are addicting. Once you get one, you'll be a frequent customer of mine." = = = = A short story about love, surrender, tattoos, and inner demons.

"The Pain" is my ode to the feeling of being comforted by sadness and darkness. I find myself often feeling a beauty and release when I feel an anguish in my heart. It is a familiar feeling that can sometimes feel like an old friend. (Please note I am referring to emotional pain not physical pain).

A daily letter sent to Paul, the love of my life (was).