I Call Her Headphanie Lyrics Novels & Stories

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my cheeks burn as I dodge my husband, Ethan Grant, leaning in for a hungry kiss. I push him toward the nightstand for a rubber. What he doesn't know is that I've tucked a surprise in there, a positive pregnancy test. I can already see it, the way his whole face will light up the second he finds it. But the moment his hand goes for the drawer, his phone goes off. His best friend, Henry Miller, comes on the line in Danish. "Mr. Grant, how was last night? That new love couch our company rolled out is treating you okay?" Ethan lets out a low laugh and answers in Danish, "The massage feature's great. Saves me from having to rub Sandy's back myself." He still has me pulled tight against him, but his eyes look straight through me, like he's seeing someone else. "This stays between us. If my wife ever finds out I slept with her sister, I'm done." It feels like someone just put a knife through my chest. What they don't know is that I minored in Danish in college, so I catch every single word. I force myself to stay calm, but the arms I have looped around Ethan's neck won't stop shaking. At that moment, I stop hesitating and decide I'll take the offer from that international research project. Three days from now, I'll be gone from Ethan's world for good.

"As you leave, could you do me a favour and grab those flowers you left in my room?" He sneered, but I refused to comply. Never again would I venture into that room. I was utterly shattered and wrecked. It would have been preferable if we had never met. They were lost in each other, oblivious to my presence, and their moans echoed in my mind like a taunting reminder of what I had lost. The urge to faint or disappear was overwhelming, and I wished more than anything that it was all just a bad dream. At this moment, I deeply regretted my decision to surprise him with a visit. Little did I know that the man I loved and had given my whole heart to was already entangled with another woman. The shock of this realization cut into my soul like a knife.

On our fifth dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Luke Bolton, gives me a cheap bracelet worth less than a hundred dollars. On the same night, he splurges ten million dollars on a yacht for his first love, Cindy Gale. I refuse to accept this, and he accuses me of making a scene. "I gave Cindy that gift to boost the company's stock price, not because I still have feelings for her," he says. "You're poor, and I still promised to marry you. Isn't that enough? This was actually your last test, Elisa Gray, but you failed it." I break up with him, and he immediately proposes to Cindy. Five years after that, we meet again at a luxury hotel during a business summit. His company is about to become an industry giant, and Cindy is holding onto his arm. When he sees me, I'm standing in a fountain, all drenched and disheveled. "Elisa," Luke sneers. "When you turned me down back then, did it ever cross your mind that you might end up worse than a homeless person? "Don't think acting pitiful here will make me feel sorry and take you back." I ignore him. My son's cherished blue diamond was a birthday gift from his father, and he accidentally dropped it into the fountain. He's so upset that he's about to cry, and I have to find it right away.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

When Michele Barone, the Underboss of the Moretti family, proposes to me, I receive a video call from another version of myself, who's five years in the future. In the video call, my older self is already shaved bald. She's also trapped in the Moretti family's basement. "Don't marry him! You have to get rid of the unborn baby in your belly and get out of here right now!" I throw the ring to the table on the spot before going through an abortion right away. When Michele finds out the truth, he breaks down and cries his heart out. At the same time, he keeps demanding answers from me. All of my family and friends keep blaming and accusing me. They even claim that I've gone nuts. Meanwhile, Michele's childhood friend, Gianna Grasso, hides outside the room with a hand clamped over her mouth as she giggles secretly to herself. "AI nowadays sure is powerful! I can't believe she actually believes that the woman in the video call is actually her future self five years from now!" My lips curl into a small smile. Honestly speaking, I can tell right away that it's just a fake AI video, based on how shabbily it's made. It's quite simple as to why I've done those things, though—I've received an actual video call from my future self for real.

They are strangers yet they are not, they are enemy yet they are not, they are friends yet they are not, they are each other world yet they are not"!! Love or will surely happen when two same personalities will clash with each other in an Indian wedding, which is full of rituals and customs. Meet Vihaan Singh Rathore, the most eligible bachelor in the business world, the handsome who is full of himself, is rude, wants to control everything, boss of his home, but on the top of it, excessive drinker. Meet Shanaya Malhotra, beautiful, cute, intelligent and emerging fashion designer. She hates men who drink, are controlling in nature, but on top of it, she is revengeful and does not forgive those who hurt her. Destiny is going to play the game.

I'm due for a promotion when I stumble upon my husband entangled with his childhood sweetheart. After that, I'm secretly admitted to a psychiatric facility. I repeatedly tell the doctors that I'm fine, but all I get is worse abuse and humiliation. When Howard Armstrong visits me every month, I beg him to get me out. Each time, he says, "This is a proper establishment, so you have to follow the doctor's instructions. Don't be unreasonable!" On the day I'm discharged, he speaks to me tenderly and calls me his honey. Later, when I place a divorce agreement before him, he breaks down in tears.

If the idea of the man who should protect you instead pinning you down and claiming every hole makes you squirm, close this book immediately and find something tame. But if your panties are already soaked and your pulse is racing at the thought of forbidden hands on your body… then spread those pages like a good little slut and keep going. This isn’t sweet. This isn’t slow. These stories throw innocent young women straight into the fire—defiant brats broken by the commanding cocks of their dominant stepdads, possessive stepbrothers, hungry step-uncles, dominant fathers-in-law, reclaiming ex-dads, and their father’s best friends. Expect rough throat-fucking that leaves mascara running down flushed cheeks. Expect tight virgin asses stretched wide and pounded mercilessly. Expect fertile little pussies pumped full of thick, risky creampies while they growl filthy promises: “Daddy’s going to knock you up, princess. Fill that womb until you’re carrying my baby.” Sneaking around while Mom sleeps down the hall. Risky quickies that could get them caught any second. Blackmail, power games, and total surrender. These alpha men don’t ask—they take. They train eager mouths, claim every hole, and mark their territory with load after load of hot cum. Breeding. Deepthroat. Anal. Degradation. DDLG. BDSM. Raw, unprotected taboo fucking that leaves trembling thighs sticky and minds completely wrecked. If the thought of being owned, ruined, and bred by the men who raised you makes your cunt clench… welcome home, babygirl. Your men are already hard and waiting.

Rose a Luna, lives a simple, innocent life in a small village with her mother and younger brother Little did she know that a monster from a past she knows nothing about hunts her down It takes one day for everything to change- she's going to discover the biggest secret of her life Will she be strong enough to handle the truth? And can she escape afterwards?

“Call me Daddy. I tell you what to do and you fucking listen. When I order you to spread your legs, you go the widest you can, you show me the depths of your pussy. When I order you to stab your soaked, dripping pussy with three of your fingers, you look me dead in the eyes and do it. When I order you to call me daddy, you open your mouth and call me daddy, because I'm your fucking daddy, baby girl. You obey, you follow orders, and you get rewards and treats from sugar daddy, my sugar baby.” When Daddy tells you to pick up this book, listen. Obey like the depraved slut that you are. Obey with your dry pussy and watch it soak and ruin your panties, your sheets, your damn life. Default and lose your treats, rewards and your orgasm, you unsatisfied reader. I dare you to remain the same after experiencing daddy. …… Note: There's no limit. None. Dane Wright. Don't worry, he doesn't need your forgiveness or the face of disgust you'll make. He would unfortunately rather die, than leave his business partner's daughter alone.