"Breathe." He dipped his head down so that his lips were right at my ear, his strong arm wrapped securely around my waist, molding my body into his. "If you're going to fall apart,." He starts, teeth gritted. "Now's the time. I'll be here to put you back together when it's over." I squeezed my eyes shut again, and I did just that. I fell apart. ******* Secrets. Lies. Deception. Murder. I'd seen and done it all. And not willingly. So I left. I sacrificed my freedom to save myself, and the only way to ensure my own safety was to start over. Clean slate. New people. New me. But the last thing I expected when I arrived at Manonwell Prep Academy was to be bombarded by a boy-no, a man who held some unknown vendetta against me. Call it obsession, infatuation, hatred. To me it was all one in the same. He was everywhere I turned, like a shadow. Watching me. Taunting me. Haunting me. And it was all because of something I did to him a long time ago. It was something so bad that he couldn't stand me, that he wanted me dead, and the idea of making my life a living hell was something that he took pride in. But I didn't remember. I had no clue what I could've done to him in the past, but he was hellbent on pushing me until I did. My plans on starting over were shattered the minute I stepped inside that school. He was the type of person that demanded your attention without having to speak. He was untamed and wild and unhinged. But what he didn't know was that the Winter Travers that he knew in past, the one I didn't remember, was no longer alive. I was different. She was gone and I was here. And he was everything I should've been afraid of. Sinister, quiet, manipulative, but I knew it would be a cold day in hell before I let him win. Ronan was like gasoline waiting to be doused on the fire that inside me, and if he was ready to burn, then so was I.

noun: weakness. /ˈwēknəs/ -a person or thing that one is unable to resist or likes excessively.

𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 | 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 I went silent just resting my thoughts on the idea of loving him. Sighing I lifted my head and decided to tell him how I felt. "I love you TreyVon I really do" I whispered to him putting my hands on his chest. I felt him squeeze my waist and move one hand under my chin. Moving to kiss me he moved down on the bed, mid kiss he pulled away both of us kinda out of breath from this passionate kiss, "I love you" he returned putting his lips back on mine before he flipped us over on the bed and this romantic shit wasn't a normal thing that occurred regularly in my life. And when it did I just prayed that this man would be the love of my life till the day I'm off this planet and he's what kept the peace and sanity running in my life everyday. ━━ ranks; #1 shortstory #1 teenromance #1 hoodlove #1 thuglife #1 teenlove #1 hood #1 unedited #1 blackpeople #1 thuglove #1 blacklove #1 clingy #2 urbanstory #2 urbanfiction #2 hoodlovestory #2 smutmaybe #4 newadult #4 teenlove #7 enemiestolovers #7 urbanfantasy # 8 highschool

Nia never got into any trouble, she never hung around the wrong crowd. All she did was focus on school and her future. Until Caine came into her life and made it better in more ways than she ever knew she needed. This is a love story! And don't be frightened by the length. The smut, tension and everything you can think of is THERE. You don't want to miss.

" 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞..."

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙍𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

Miguel Hernandez has known a few things well: the cushion of an older brother rising to stardom, basketball and sex. His reputation's whispered from the luxury corners of the Upper East Side, spanning over New York City. Debauchery's come to be his middle name. Girls are rarely pictured leaving his side. A comfortable, familiar routine that he doesn't stray from, nor does anyone expect him to. Until her. Eyes that harbour secrets, a tongue sharp enough to cut, passions she's given up and a darkness bearing on her shoulders, Malibu Adams knows nothing but survival. Unapologetic about the trail of messes she leaves behind or the anger festering within her that will only set her on one ruinous path, love had never been on her radar. Nobody knows her enough to understand her nor the pain seeping from wounds she disregards. Until he becomes desperate to. She breaks everything she touches, they say - he isn't afraid to bleed.

Running from hell isnʼt easy. Especially when someoneʼs dragging you back down into it. Belligerent, brash and always in shades of black, Freya is hardly a lady. Hidden away by her father, sheʼs lived a normal life despite being born into the dark waters of New Yorkʼs underworld. Heʼs cold, cruel and calculating, with a proclivity for destruction. Feared by even Made Men, Torren is the boss of the stateʼs most leachorous crime syndicate. Freya hates his crudity and possessiveness, but she canʼt deny the way her breath hitches at his rough touch, the deep timbre of his voice, and his dark, heated gaze. Torren hates her disobedience, her recklessness, and her chaos. To him, sheʼs only something to be tamed. And after he slips a ring on her hand, snatching away her future, she makes only one vow---to become his biggest torment.

sequel to bbr. please read that first :) ☆☆☆ hayden jones has been through a lot. a lot more than someone her age should. now finished her second year of college, hayden needs a break. lucky for her, her fabulous cousin spencer is celebrating his twenty-first birthday in hayden's home town. but as much as she hates it, drama is never far from hayden's life because her ex is also invited; the stubborn and ridiculously good looking chase everett.

"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