Does Yuri Like Yor Novels & Stories

When her first love died, my wife jumped from the cruise ship to end her life on our honeymoon. That was when I realized she had never let go of Tyler. Reborn back to our teenage years, she didn’t hesitate to shake off my hand and walk straight toward her first love. I watched them leave together, then turned away. From that moment on, our lives became two parallel lines that would never cross. Ten years later, we meet again at a lavish gala in Rivendell. She was now the rising star of high society, proudly clinging to Tyler’s arm as they made their entrance. When she saw me crash the gala in search of someone, she couldn’t help but advise me. “Why are you still obsessed with me? Even if you’ve waited ten years, I’ll never love you.” I ignored her and pulled my son out of the corner where he had been sneaking cake. Her eyes instantly redden as she grabs my hand in a panic. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Didn’t you say you’d only ever love me in this life?”

During a company retreat to Colmar, I found out my boyfriend was going to propose at sunset, surrounded by colleagues. Instead, in the golden light, he dropped to one knee with a ring in hand in front of someone else. “Lana, I’m ready to be the father of your child. Will you marry me?” Lana, the woman Mark had loved for ten years, his unforgettable first love. I stared at the two, watching them embrace. Then I quietly turned away, booked myself a trip three days out, and went home for an arranged date. A year later, I ran into him again when I returned to the country. Mark’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my wrist. “Rosie, you’re finally back. Don’t leave me again…”

I used to be so happy with my husband, Ian Shaw, until his first love got too drunk one day and was taken away by five strange men for an entire night. To protect her reputation, he told everyone that I was the one who was kidnapped that night. Everyone criticized me, calling the baby in my belly a child of shame. I questioned Ian hysterically, but he said nonchalantly, "Ruby isn’t married yet. People will laugh at her if the news spreads." I looked icily at the man I had loved for six years, shock taking over as I realized he had probably never loved me back.

Yuri wasn’t looking for anything pure or righteous. He’d never known tenderness, nor did he want to know. It didn’t fit with being Bratva. But when he met her, this tiny bundle of woman, he almost wished he were different. Something about her just appealed to a place deep inside him. A feeling he never realized was even there. She had reached down deep into his soul and taken a piece of him. For her, he almost wished he was different. Because now that he had tasted her he wouldn’t let her go. Raven knew who he was and what he was but she never expected to be drawn to him. She had nothing to offer a man like him. He was one man she never should have met, let alone been allowed to taste. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of and so much more. She knew she should have walked away from him for her own sake. But if she did, she’d be nothing more than a shattered soul.

Lori is marrying Kim Elijah; heir to Kim Enterprises, one of the country’s hottest bachelors and a total pain in the ass. She does not want to marry him and neither does he want to marry her. But in families like hers, marriage does not come with love.

Betsy Miller is not your typical twenty-two years old ‘half-Asian girl’. After all, apart from being a customer service representative and the various side jobs she has, she is also a great actress. One day, one of her clients at a salon, a Japanese woman, asked for a favor. In exchange for a large sum, Betsy goes to New York City to pretend to be Yuri Haruko. Even with no knowledge of the business world, she dares to go there. There she meets Jack Wills, an American rugged looking guy who’s pretty convinced that Betsy is not the person who she says she is.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

In our world, fathers sell their half-breed daughters to purebred wolves. If they don’t like you, they will resell you to someone else. And the one who turns out to be the chosen one is lucky, and she will be combined with the highest marriage. And others are destined to belong to the multitude... I was not sold; I gave myself up. Now the big bad red wolf is my master, and I am in his hands. But why does his rival look at me like I’m the juiciest piece of steak? Does he want to buy me out?

Four brothers. A lingering debt. And a girl who was never meant to get involved. When Alessia Moretti’s father disappears, she thinks her biggest problem is survival… until four men walk into her life and turn it into a nightmare. The Romano quadruplets didn’t come to collect money......They came to take her. Cold,dangerous and untouchable. They rule the Bloodshot Empire with fear, power, and blood-stained loyalty… and now Alessia is trapped in their world. A world of luxury that feels like a cage,a mansion that feels like prison and four men who look at her like she already belongs to them.How does she survive when every move is watched?How does she breathe when even silence feels dangerous? And how does she stay strong when something inside her starts to break… around them because one of them watches her like obsession,One looks at her like he wants to ruin her,One studies her like she’s the only thing that makes sense and one smiles like he already knows she will never escape him. Fear becomes attention,Attention becomes obsession and obsession becomes something far more dangerous because Alessia Moretti was never just taken because of a debt her dad owed, Turns out she's one of their early secrets that should Never be revealed. In the mansion of the Romano brothers…Surviving them might be impossible but falling for them?That might be her downfall.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.