"My girl isn't fucking weak and there isn't shit wrong with her. She's a fucking force and her pain is her power." He paused, allowing his words to seep into my soul. "And her place will always be at my side, say it." He demanded. A few tears tracked down my face. My throat was clogged with emotions, and it felt hard to breathe, but I did what I was told. "I'm not weak and there's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force...." I swallowed. "My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Louder. I want to hear you." My chin trembled but the words that left my mouth next were strong and hard. "I'm not weak. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Again." His voice was a whisper against my skin, causing the tips of my fingers to tingle. "Say it again, Sam." My heart thawed. "I'm not weak." I said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Damn straight." He whispered against my lips. "You're fucking perfect. Don't let me hear you call yourself weak, Sam. Because you aren't." ° ° ° 𝗦𝗮𝗺 My life was mapped out for me before I could even take my first breath. I was thrusted into the corrupted world of organized crime and illegal trade. After being broken and left for dead, I finally got my out. I ran. I was free. And then my brother fucked it all up, dragging me back into this twisted form of hell. And then there was Spade, the devil in the most irresistible form. 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲 I was the King of the Cosa Nostra. The definition of violent and tainted. I was merciless, and in my book, there was no such thing as fucking losing. Things have always been the same in the underground, nd when you play with your life, things were collected. Her brother is in my debt, and if that debt isn't paid someone will die. This was just business, so why couldn't I kill her and get shit over with? She was just a means to an end. Right?

"I know I ain't perfect, but you know I'm still gon' try"

Karin has had a rocky start being in one toxic situation ship after the next and she is ready for something pure and healthy something that gives her fireworks a breath a fresh air and it's right there she just have to put her faith in him and let the past go it's time for her to get her happy ending.

She learned early how to seal things away. Emotion filed down, expression kept neutral, desire folded so neatly it almost disappears. She gives nothing unless it's earned, and even then, only in pieces. Control isn't armor to her, it's instinct. He is cut from the same discipline. Composed, unreadable, careful with what he reveals and even more careful with what he wants. His restraint isn't coldness; it's calibration. He knows exactly how much to show and exactly when to stop. Between them, nothing rushes. It pulls. What lives here is not loud. It's contained. Pressurized. Waiting. Eclipsed moves in shadows , where longing is disciplined, connection is measured, and the most powerful moments happen in what's withheld. In a world that rewards exposure, they choose control, even as the gravity between them threatens to close the distance they've both sworn to keep. Some connections don't demand attention. They draw it in.

Pushing himself from the door Gulian neared her, standing in front of her. "I want you to stop seeing 𝙝𝙞𝙢, that's what I want." Kyomi scoffed as she shook her head. "Why would I stop doing that? Just 'cause you call yourself asking nicely?"

an·dro·pho·bia | \ ˌan-drə-ˈfō-bē-ə noun : an abnormal dread of men : repugnance to the male sex Thea is the definition of sweetness. Whether it be stopping to talk to a homeless person in the streets or volunteering overtime at her local charity shop, she feels the need to give and not take. Although that comes with disadvantages of its own, the effects of a strange phobia of hers only make her life more difficult: her growing fear of men. And when she meets the most terrifying of them all, she is forced to ultimately confront her fear. In the form of a murderous member of the mafia by the name of Synn, that same uncontrollable terror that she experiences in the presence of a man only sparks an interest in him. But unbeknownst to Synn, a man who revels at the tremor of his enemies, he cannot figure out why her wide, teary eyes do not give him the same pleasure. Why does that same terror-stricken look on Thea's face only make his heart clench with pain instead of content? #1 in Hot #1 in Fear #1 in Scared #1 in Sweet #1 in Kind #3 in Cute #5 in Love Cover done by @kimtherespeopledying

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐚𝐦. . . . There are things you're taught not to do. Rules you're told to follow. People you're meant to forget. Flora never planned to end up here, but after one too many mistakes, her life dives for rock bottom. Now, she's trapped in a world she doesn't understand, haunted by a past she can't outrun. And at the center of it all stands the boy she'd sworn to forget. What once was fate, fractures into an illusion and twist into something dangerously evil. They were kids together. Friends together. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵. She's new. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵. She's fresh meat. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. What happens when they reunite? Secrets unfold. Chaos runs free. And the line between love and ruin sharpens into a thin blade, as history proves to repeat itself in its cruelest form. A girl. A boy. And a mad house that feeds on sin. There's no place to hide here. You can run, but you'll never get away. "𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘉𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘢𝘮. 𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺." 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲

I'm Zara Williams and I know what you're thinking...but no, I'm not Zara Larsson. I'm a regular degular twenty one year old girl that practically have everything figured out in my life already...but there's this one person that I just can't figure out no matter how hard I try. Nickoi Jacobs. Whew, speaking of the devil. He has mastered the craft of being bad and he's so good at it, dangerous even. He's all about gangs, exotic cars, exotic house and exotic lifestyle and I'm the total opposite of that. What puzzles me though are the butterflies that I get when he's around me and that look-oh, that look that he gives me makes me so vulnerable to him and it puzzles me-he puzzles me because how could I possibly fall for him, when he's not my type? Get ready for this drama guys and yes it's a Jamaican Novel. Enjoy! Ranking🥇 #1 in Jamaica #1 in Jamaican #1 in Kingston #1 in Patois #1 in Caribbean #1 in Judgmental #1 in Jamaicanwriter #1 in youngwritersprize #1 in thug #1 in newwriter #1in badman

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 & 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐬 Loyalty. It's a simple philosophy of virtue, worn thin by the world. In his hands, it is sacred- A creed carved in blood and obedience. A faith sharpened by order, tempered in the fire of command. Trust is demanded- forged beneath the weight of discipline, Bound by the concept of duty. But in hers, those words are fables- Tales spun by desperate men to keep obedience alive. Loyalty's a language of the desperate- spoken loudest by those too afraid to stand alone. Trust is a fool's game for those who've never bled. And right is wrong, wrong the only right in the chaos she was made for. They were born to opposite sides of the same war- two souls carved from a single wound, destined to bleed for different flags. They were meant to ruin each other quietly. Ruin. Ruin. Ruin and call it mercy. Call it duty. Never to find warmth in the ashes they made. Never to seek solace in what was made to destroy, what was meant to bring death. But fate... fate has never cared for intention- It placed his oath at the mercy of the woman he was trained to destroy, Placed her wrath in the hands of the only man who could ruin it. Steal her fury. Quiet her rage. Unravel the reason she drew breath. And he truly meant to do it- Every bit of it. Meant to ruin, To steal, To quiet, Unravel. He meant to bring justice, Bring justice and strike down a woman born of vengeance until fate intervened once more- Until, somewhere between the hunt and the havoc, he forgot to destroy and learned to worship instead. But worship's not enough to blunt her truth- hungry dogs are never loyal- not even to the palm they once adored. And even the devout, in the end, turn on their gods. 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏...

College was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to figure out who you are and where you belong. But falling for your best friend's sister was never part of the plan. Neither was falling for her wife. Between late-night talks, quiet moments that linger too long, and the fear of losing everything you care about, you begin to understand that love is rarely simple. It's messy, beautiful, and sometimes the very thing that helps you find yourself. ⚠️ Please read the tags before continuing. If none of those themes sound appealing to you, this may not be the right story for you.