Withered Foxy Voice Line Novels & Stories

They know what this is. A relationship? They can’t even call it that. The only time they can stand each other is when they’re breathless, tangled in sheets, lost in the heat of the moment. But when a dark history begins to unravel between them, threatening the fragile balance they’ve built, one misstep could change everything. What happens when one of them crosses the line?

“You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how difficult it is hearing you say things like that while you’re upstairs and I can’t touch you.” My stomach tightened hard. “Then come upstairs.” The words escaped before I could think them through. Silence crashed into the room. “You do know what you’re asking for, don’t you?” “Yes.” A long pause. Then: “Open your door.” At twenty-two, Ivy Hart has mastered the art of pretending. By day, she’s the polished daughter of a wealthy country club businessman—the successful young woman her father proudly brags about to his golf buddies. By night, she becomes someone else entirely. Hidden behind soft lighting, silk robes, and a fake name, Ivy earns millions online giving strangers the intimacy she’s never found in real life. But one man is different. Masked. Older. Addictive. Known only as BigDaddyP, he doesn’t just watch her—he sees her. Every insecurity. Every lie. Every lonely part she hides behind the camera. Their late-night sessions become her obsession. Until the night he whispers her real name during a private stream. Terrified, Ivy logs off moments before her father calls with unexpected news: his famous actor godson, Patrick Laurent, will be staying at their mansion for Christmas while her parents leave town. Cold blue eyes. Dangerous restraint. A voice she would recognize anywhere. Because the man she’s been craving in the dark is now sleeping down the hall from her. Snowed in together in a mansion, the line between performance and reality begins to blur. And the more Patrick strips away her carefully built masks, the more Ivy realizes the real danger isn’t that her father’s closest friend knows exactly who she is, It’s that she wants him in every forbidden way possible.

Shawn's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the divorce papers in his hand. "What is this, Alisa?" he asked, his voice trembling. "It would be Miss Reynolds to you soon," she replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "I'm done with you, and I'm done with this farce of a marriage." Shawn was taken aback by the coldness in her tone. This was the same woman who had once spoken to him with such love and affection. What had happened to her? "I thought you loved me," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. Alisa scoffed, her expression disdainful. "Cindy is back, and you think I'd stay with you? You want to have your cake and eat it too? Never." ### Alisa Randall's fairy-tale marriage to her childhood sweetheart, Shane Dallas, had ended in heartbreak when he left her for his first love, Cindy. But what Shane didn't know was that Alissa was the heiress to the country's largest fortune, with connections to Hollywood's elite and multiple identities at her disposal. Now, Shane was realizing his mistake, and he came crawling back to Alisa, tears streaming down his face. But would she take him back, or would she forge a new path, one that didn't include him?

We shouldn’t be doing this,” Nate said like he meant it. But he didn’t move away. All I wanted was a fresh start. New city. New apartment. New version of me. So when my best friend, Olivia, offered me a place in her brother’s building, I didn’t hesitate. What I didn’t expect was Nate. Her older brother, my landlord, and a man who already belonged to someone else. The kind of man who looks at you once and makes you forget every reason you shouldn’t want him. I knew the rules. I knew the risks. I broke them anyway. But desire has a price. And mine came with a friendship on the line, a past that refused to stay buried, and pressure closing in from every direction. The smartest thing I could’ve done was walk away. The problem? Nate had already made me forget how. The moment we crossed the line, everything I came here to rebuild was suddenly at risk.

“How do you feel?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. “How do you think I feel?” I returned the question, staring back at him defiantly. “Perhaps I should continue?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Can you please step back, your fiancée is just meters away and this is not the right way to stand with a woman”. I said, my voice firm, and his face turned into a scowl. “Why are you keen on torturing us?” He asked, one of his hands trailing downwards, “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you like it when I flirt with her?” He inquired, his hands now in between my laps and I bit back a moan, “Do you want me to touch her like this?” He added, his fingers slipping into panties and I immediately held his hands, “Stop! Guards and maids are around, Sophia is still at the dining table” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Answer the question, Ava”. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After her husband’s betrayal and a hospital error, Ava discovers she’s carrying the child of Billionaire Zayn Beckham. Forced into a surrogacy contract, Ava’s stubborn nature and determination clash with Zayn’s dominant personality and he finds himself falling in love with his supposed surrogate, despite his girlfriend’s presence. As Ava’s pregnancy journey progresses, secrets are revealed, their lives are threatened by attacks, putting the baby’s and Ava lives in danger. With each attempt on their lives, Ava and Zayn must fight to protect their unborn child and struggle to get over their growing feelings for each other. Can they overcome the obstacles and find a happy ending? Find out more about their love story as you subscribe.

The last hope I had of finding my parents was destroyed right in front of me. I had just arrived at the meeting place when they were hit by a car and killed before my eyes. By the time I returned home, I was numb. Then I heard a voice coming from the entryway. It was Eric Terrell, speaking to one of his trusted men on the phone. "First, it was the fake DNA report," the man said. "Now it's a staged car accident." He gave a low laugh. "Mr. Terrell, you've really gone to great lengths to stop Aimee Walters from finding her family." I curled up on the couch, and for a moment, I felt as if I had forgotten how to breathe. Eric took off his coat. His voice sounded tired, but there was no hesitation in it. "This is the last time. Aimee will never find her biological parents now." His man sighed. "Why go this far? Even if Ms. Walters reunites with the Hart family, it wouldn't really threaten Ms. Hart's place..." "No," Eric cut him off, his voice cold and firm. "If Aimee returns to the Hart family and wins back Mr. and Mrs. Hart's love, Isabelle will be the one who gets hurt." Then he added, "That's why I had no choice but to arrange for Mr. and Mrs. Hart to fake their deaths in front of her. In three days, they'll leave the country and never come back." My blood ran cold. Eric continued, as if my entire life were nothing more than a problem he had already solved. "As for Aimee, I've already agreed to marry her." The man sounded surprised. "Then what about Ms. Hart?" Eric fell silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and defeated. "As long as she's happy, that's enough for me."

Not every fantasy is gentle. Not every desire plays by the rules. Some pleasures are dangerous. And these stories? They come with teeth. Behind closed doors and under tight sheets, women surrender to the hunger they’re not supposed to have… and the men who know exactly how to feed it. From a gynecologist who crosses the line with a patient who wants more than a check-up… To a reverend’s wife who falls for a man she sees every Sunday and sins with every chance she gets… To a virgin student who learns her first lesson in the back office of her lecturer… To a nanny who becomes the one thing her boss can’t resist… This isn’t about love. This is about lust… raw and dripping. Forbidden romance. Unholy cravings. So if you’re looking for soft kisses and fairy tale endings… Turn back now. But if you’re ready for something that makes you squirm in your seat… If you want stories you’ll replay in your head long after the last line… Then go ahead. Open the book.

Before the contract was even signed, the client's representative casually said he was craving pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't hesitate. I texted my fiancé, Nigel Cross, and asked him to stand in line and grab some. He came back with the box, all proud of himself. The client took one bite, and within seconds, his face went red. Hives bloomed across his neck. He shot to his feet, furious, and called the whole deal off on the spot. Then he turned around and handed the million-dollar order to Olivia Field, the intern who had rushed to grab him allergy meds. Three months of grinding work were gone just like that. I stood there, my throat tight, trying not to fall apart. Nigel squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft as he said, "It was just bad luck. Don't beat yourself up." I nodded weakly, drained of energy. But the second I stepped away, I heard him laughing in the break room with his friend. "That guy's seriously allergic to mango. Good thing I added mango syrup to the pancakes. Olivia's about to score a huge year-end bonus. Enough for a down payment on her new apartment." His friend hesitated. "Melissa hasn't slept in a month over that deal. She was working while she was sick. She needed that money for her mom's surgery—" Nigel waved him off, already annoyed. "She has me. Isn't that enough? Olivia earned this." My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Bad luck? Yeah, right. Nigel had planned every second of it. And now, he thought he could smooth it over by marrying me someday, toss me a few cheap words, and I would just swallow it. I was done with that disgusting man.

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.

After the company's entire plane crashed and everyone on board died, we all found ourselves transported into a novel, tasked with winning the favor of a queen. The system's icy voice issued its prompt: [The queen's male consort possesses a voice as melodious as a lark's.] Our handsome secretary smiled with quiet confidence. That very day, he stationed himself along the queen's usual route and began to sing a modern pop song. The queen was thoroughly pleased. She summoned him onto her carriage. Our colleagues looked on with unconcealed envy. "Looks like the bonus is his." "How lucky. The queen is wealthy and beautiful. Not only does he get to spend the night with her, he'll make a fortune too." But the next day, we saw the secretary hanging from a tree in the royal garden. His body was completely naked, riddled with arrows, his eyes still wide open in death. The voice he had once cherished was now a vessel crammed with thick, crude bamboo spikes. At the same time, the system's cold notification sounded once more. [All challengers' lives have entered the countdown. Please complete your conquest as soon as possible.]