FAKE DATING "We are more than friends but less than lovers." - "Oh go to hell, I was trying to have an epiphany," I mutter as he pulls me onto the bed, leaving a light kiss on my shoulder. "If you're in the passenger seat, then I'll go anywhere sweetheart." 1 - #champagneproblems 09/12/21 3 - #summer 14/02/22 4 - #alltoowell 19/12/21 13 - #swift 05/01/22 05 - #onebed 03 - #lover 11 - #summerromance 05/01/22

18+ | ON HOLD BECAUSE IT'S ABOUT TO GET REALLY DEPRESSING AND I'M NOT READY *** May 2nd, 1998. Oakland, California. Nova Deville attends her Father's political rally to show her support for his Mayoral Campaign. When a group of young, masked 'outlaws' crash the rally to speak out against Deville's corruption, Nova gets wrapped up in their passion and ends up aiding them in their escape. After helping this mysterious group of leather and lace, she slowly gets sucked into their world of sex, drugs and rock n' roll. One member of the group stands out to her; Harry Dawson. He's cold, reckless, brutally honest and wants nothing to do with her. But, Harry becomes the least of her problems when a brutal murder rocks the town and tensions rise in the already politically segregated community. But, it doesn't stop at one. When the murderer starts making victims of Nova's very own social circle, she can't help but think that this killer is closer to her than she thinks and she can't trust anyone. *** "Fuck, Nova, please touch me. I fucking hate myself for this, but you're making me so desperate, please," Harry falls apart in front of me, whimpering and moaning at the words tumbling out of his own mouth. I start to reach out my hand, ready to touch him for the very first time, and he moans out in anticipation from my slight movement, eyes trained on my delicate fingers. And then, the sound of shattering glass and a loud thud pierces the air from downstairs. I go completely still. "No, don't stop, Nova..." He whines at me and wraps his own hand around himself to relieve some tension. I ignore his pleas and grab my gun from off my nightstand, ready to handle whatever the fuck is going on downstairs now. "Wait here for me," I grab his wrist, pulling his hand out of his lap and throwing it back against my headboard roughly, "and no touching." *** Started: December 12th, 2021

MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT. Viewer Discretion is advised. *The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.* *This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.* The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth, and strength through the power of friendship, and true love. With a punk twist. In 2010, living in suburban CHICAGO IL, Alice Mariposa Anderson, 19, wishes for a teenage dream of sex, drugs, romance and fame. A Punk Rock life is a fantasy that corrupts her daydreams every waking hour, and her love of music only fuels it--but it's a life that'll only come true if she abandons the strict religious rules of her parents Christian household, and takes a chance on her new punkstar neighbors across the street. ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ Harlow Silver is a 21 y/o drummer for an underground scene/punk band named Bloody Valentine, moving from a loud, trashy New York City apartment to a quiet house in Chicago to escape his grim, horrific past. While also seeking out answers only Chicago could give him. But when he moves in across the street from a prudent, annoying, religious girl looking to bust out from her protective shell, he's forced to face his fears and break through the mental barriers that bind him to his trauma. And maybe, just maybe, love again. ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ Enemies to Lovers. Slow burn. A.U.

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"Montana, come here." He nodded his head toward the door, leaving out of the room. Staying silent as Ms. Carol looked at me, I kissed the back of Josiah's hand before leaving out of the room. As I walked out, Messiah stood there looking at me in disgust while I closed the door. "What are you doing that shit for?" "Huh?" I said since I had nothing else to say, just trying to stall time to get my words together. "Why are you stripping, Monty?" Sighing, I decided that I wasn't going to lie like I'd originally planned to do after listening to Chocolate's stupid advice. "Money." I spoke simply and he scoffed as I looked down. "Why not just ask Josiah for money instead doing hoe shit?" "First of all, It's not doing hoe shit. I don't have sex with anyone. I just dance. And I don't want to ask him for any money. It's not his job to take care of me." "So stripping..." He trailed off with a laugh. "..stripping was the last resort? Instead of putting your pride aside?" Saying nothing, I just looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please don't tell him, Messiah." I could already tell by the look on his face that he was going to tell him. "I ain't gon' tell him.." Thank God. I thought. "..you are." "What?!" I shrieked. "No. I'm not." "You are." He spoke in a demanding tone. "Please. You know how he is." I expressed "And you know how he is too but you made that bed." "Messiah, he's going to kill me." I begged. "I know." He shook his head, walking away from me. "Better figure it out. You got until the end of the day to tell him or I will." He mumbled before walking back into the room.