Twenty-eight year old Parker Colborn has just been cheated on. They're trying - against what may be his better judgement - to make things work. Enter Jannah Parson, his younger sister's best friend. 'Parker's jaw is slack, then it clenches, his hazel eyes looking more moss green as they darken. And then, as if remembering himself, he keeps his gaze firmly rooted on her neck, like he's too afraid to look in her eyes (or the rest of her, for that matter). 'I - the clothes,' she offers weakly, stupidly, and then winces.' OR, Parker has a fiancé and Jannah is a bomb. WORD COUNT: 95k

Vivian Summers is destined to graduate summa cum laude this spring, the highest academic honor. The accomplishment is just within reach when Chemistry 101 grasps her by the foot and pulls her away. Stuck taking a forgotten lower-level science class, managing an internship to get a full-time job offer, and working a part-time job at the country club, Vivian had a lot to handle this semester. Daniel Larson is here to help. He is in his second year of medical school, hails from an old money family...oh, and he's the disgustingly handsome teacher assistant in Vivian's chemistry class. A couple of failing quiz grades forces Vivian to accept Daniel's insistent offer to tutor her, forcing them to share a small office, one night a week, together. Vivian quickly learns more about chemistry, and not just the boring science kind. The kind of chemistry she never imagined herself having, craving, needing-something that only romance novels can describe. *** Warnings: sexual content, alcohol, feelings of loneliness

Silence and Honey I talked enough for both of us. He listened like he might never let go. Runerth Castellion was the boy with the sharpest eyes and the quietest heart. He didn't talk much-didn't smile much either. But he always showed up. For me. I had known him since we were twelve. Since I decided I was going to be his friend, whether he wanted one or not. I was the chatterbox play school teacher who sings songs about dinosaurs and glue sticks. He was the grumpy heir to a mafia empire no one talks about out loud and a CEO of a heritage company. We were never meant to fit but we did and we did not at the same time. All that until the fate tested us. Tested me. In a world where healing feels impossible, our bond became a refuge, a promise that no matter how dark the night, dawn was waiting. This is a story about the strength found in vulnerability, the power of a patient heart, and the beautiful, messy journey toward a love that saves. Credit to the original owner of picture used in cover. I do not own it. 7 in comfortcharacter on 20th August, 2025.

❝And if you're ever feeling lonely just look at the moon, someone, somewhere is looking right at it too❞ Desiree ''Dessie'' Lock is probably the biggest Theic in the universe, thanks to her mother who gave her tea since she was a toddler. She loves to read on her cold bedroom floor next to the balcony, swallows and the sweaters that her grandmother knits for her every Christmas and Birthday. Above all she had her life planned out for her by her parents. Elliot ''Liot'' Sword drinks coffee all day long. By lunch time he would have already downed five cups. He loves to draw when he has some spare time and the needed supplies, tattoos and he never goes anywhere without his torn jeans and American flag bandana. Above all he didn't have his life planned out for him. He lived day by day and didn't give a damn about the future. So what happens when one night Desiree spots Elliot in an unusual situtation from her balcony? cover by -unstable

❝ finding intelligence sexually attractive or arousing. ❞

(Completed) Ivy, the girl who saw the glass half empty. River, the boy who saw the glass half full. Her perspective didn't change till she met him. Could he make her see that the glass is half full, or is she stuck on the glass being half empty? Time's ticking, her glass is running out. ✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚　　˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮ "I'll be here for as long as it takes to make sure you believe it when I say, you deserve more than the fucking world." ✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚　　˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮ "I'm not much of a people person, but without a doubt, not even as much as a breath between my words, I could confidently say River is more than my favorite person."

𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁? Banks Woods has met a lot of people in her life. People who traumatized her. People who abused her. People who left and gave up on her. She has many titles ranging from The ugly child, The attention-seeker, The broken-hearted, The controlling one, The bitch. Lance Astor was probably someone whom she never expected to meet. In exchange for breaking his nose, he gives her a new title that sticks with her until her mind starts spinning. Pretty. Why does he call her pretty even though she doesn't feel like it? He calls her beautiful even though she feels far from it. Banks wants nothing to do with Lance because of how opposite they are, but the more she tries resisting him, the more he gets under her skin. The more she tries ignoring her feelings, the more he makes her feel. The more she tries hiding, the more he makes her feel alive.

Theron kissed a bruise. Then another and another. His lips fluttered against every area of tainted flesh. I blinked, not allowing the much-needed tears to pass through my eyes. I had never been touched so tenderly, softly, carefully. I never noticed how much my body desperately craved such affection. I had never been without touch, but I had been deprived of consent. Trigger Warning: abusive household, rape and sexual assault, trauma. These sensitive topics are not written about to glamourize the situations, but to show my personal perspective of my character's struggles.

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

Rhysand, Everything is in here. I'm sorry I stole them. Your hoodie, your cologne, your earrings, your college shirt and all your other shirts, your watch. The key to this house. I'm not giving you back your lighter. Here's a lollipop instead. If I forgot anything, let me know. - Andy