Malika Danai is pressure. Friendly, social, and loved by all, Malika thrives in college and is often seen as a mirage - seemingly real and attainable but disappears when approached. She's a party girl to the core. Loves to drink, flirt, and explore with her best friends, Ayana and Isabella. Her beauty is undeniable. With curly black hair cascading over her shoulders and golden-brown skin that glows no matter where she's at, Malika's presence is impossible to ignore. Her dark brown eyes often sparks with mischief, and her full two-toned lips often curves into teasing grins that hints at secrets she rarely shares. Malika excels at a lot of things but she was never the study type. She prayed the night before exams and hoped that her grades would at least give her a passing score and somehow, that always worked. Until now... Her grades are barely holding on- good enough to pass, but not good enough for a sorority like the Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA). She wants to join. No she needs to. It's the only way she can prove to her mother that she's worth it. And she'll do whatever it takes. Even if it means casting her pride aside to get help from the boy who loathes her existence. Meanwhile... Theo Sinclair is a weapon. An academic weapon that nobody can beat. Coming from an old money family where the expectations and bars are set high, Theo surpasses them all and is often pushed towards greatness by his family. Yet he has a big flaw: boredom. Because of his uncaring attitude towards everything and everyone around him, Theo is often alone. Deliberately avoiding attention and validation from peers; he thrives in the silence and rhythm of his own scheduled routines. He has only one rule; 'Never let myself feel things I can't control.' To him, parties are ratchet and vile. An enigma vastly contrasting his reverence for solitude, silence, and carefully ordered thoughts. So when he's pushed into an unwanted arrangement, he resents the intrusion because slowly, his rule...

"So Professor Jones, does this mean that we are an actual thing now?" "Princess, calling me that will get you in trouble," he grunts. I smiled in response, because he liked it. He liked that I was calling him professor. I think this was what was so exciting about him and I. He was my professor and the idea of fucking each other is a turn on. There was also the fact I had Grayson as well, even though he was the more reserved one, but what's the harm in still having both of them. I moved my hands under his shirt and I felt soft patch of hair, but hard muscle. "Maybe I want to get in trouble," I teased. "I thought you were going to be a good girl?" Grayson interjects. "I never said I would be good all the time," I say, innocently.

Joelle Jordan is just trying to survive university and her life at home. Bryce Valentine is trying to survive everyone else. Projected first-round NFL draft pick. Campus celebrity. The most watched college athlete in the country. When the two strike a deal to trade study sessions for Bryce and personal training sessions for Joelle's little brother, everything seems simple enough. Then Bryce crosses the line. Now Joelle is trying to navigate a boy who is emotionally repressed, touch-starved, obsessively devoted, and surrounded by more pressure than any twenty-year-old should have to carry. Add the coaches, media attention, NIL deals, scouts, photo shoots, and Bryce's oppressive father. The pressure that comes with being attached to Bryce Valentine is something Joelle is not equipped for. Especially when she starts getting a little too comfortable with the fact that Bryce can't seem to leave her alone. [[Disclaimer: This story is comprised of drafts that have not been heavily edited]]

***18+ MATURE CONTENT INVOLVED INCLUDING SEX AND VIOLENCE*** "You're always fucking begging." His tone was almost mocking and his grip was getting slightly tighter. "Doesn't take much does it?" I was caught off guard by his change in dynamic but it turned me on at the same time. My breath hitched, my fingers tightening slightly against his arm. "I-" I faltered, heat rushing to my face. "I'm not-" "Don't argue with me," Toni growled. My mouth closed instantly and Toni softened his grip on my throat only a little. "Tell me what you want," Toni said. My voice shook slightly. "I want you." "Not good enough." There was a pause before I finally spoke. "I want you...to fuck me." Toni's expression shifted to a satisfied one. His thumb brushed lightly against my throat, holding me there. "Needy little thing," he added under his breath. 💋

Lee Do-hyun is South Korea's most famous actor-and its coldest. Quiet, intimidating, and fiercely protective of his one-year-old son, he's fired every nanny he's ever hired. Lyric Thompson, a bubbly foreign exchange student at Yonsei University, is just trying to survive Seoul with a part-time job and enough money to eat something besides ramen. After literally crashing into Do-hyun, she somehow ends up working as his son's nanny-the only person the child instantly loves. Now the grumpy actor and the sunshine college student are forced into each other's lives, where late nights, chaotic routines, and one adorable baby slowly turn cold walls into something warmer.

"Will it kill you to back the fuck up?" I snapped. "Yes, princess," he whispered sweetly against my ear, voice full of that sick affection. "It would. I would drop dead right here if I couldn't be next to you." "My lucky day," I muttered sarcastically.

I cupped her face, planting a soft kiss on her beautiful lips. "Don't ever run from me, baby," I said softly, letting my thumb trace her jaw. "I love the chase." Her jaw tightened, her hands coming up to try and move mine. "Stop calling me baby, Ezra," she snapped, eyes flashing. I couldn't help but grin, dropping my voice to something low and dark. "Ohhh, now my baby has a problem with me calling her baby?" She shot me a glare, but I just tucked her hair behind her ear, pressing another kiss to her lips-gentler this time, lingering. "You don't get to tell me what to call you, baby." I leaned in closer, brushing my nose against hers. "You're whatever the fuck I call you."

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐨. Rankings: #1 in teacher #1 in bwwm #1 in wmbw #1 in military #1 in french #1 in psychological #2 in nigerian #5 in obsession #7 in possessive #9 in dark romance

Fiona (Alias: Snowfall) is one of the top spies at the agency. There's no mission she hasn't completed and no target she hasn't taken down. She doesn't do attachments and she doesn't fuck around. Sebastian (Alias: Apollo) is also one of the agency's top spies. Though his methods may seem all over the place, he knows how to get the job done. And have fun while doing it. Fucking around is his speciality. When Sebastian and Fiona get re-stationed to the suburbs of Nevada, they don't expect to go undercover together. They definitely don't expect to get married. Now that they're deep in suburbia, they must complete their missions and play the role of a happy couple. Only issue is that they can't stand each other. Things only get more complicated when they decide to be frenemies with benefits. *Cover from Pinterest NOT MY OWN ART WORK* Trigger warning: Murder, verbal domestic abuse, drug addiction, and overdose

"Stop apologising." So I did. Then I apologised for stopping. I'm the girl who eats lunch alone and tells herself she chose it. A girl who's never been kissed, who hides behind books and oversized jumpers and a smile that says please don't look at me. Malakai Vashko looks at me anyway. Six foot seven, Russian, with knuckles that never heal and eyes the colour of something cold and far away. He fights men twice his size for money and walks out of rooms without explaining himself to anyone, and his enemies have learned not to come for him. They come for the people standing next to him instead. He told me he didn't need a friend, and to stop looking at him like he might be one. I should have listened. But I'd already caught him trying to buy flowers for someone who couldn't receive them anymore, and something in me understood him before my brain caught up. He hides with silence and fists. I hide with silence and books. I didn't fix him and he didn't save me, but the night I grabbed an underground boxer by the hoodie outside a corner shop and told him to stop, something started that neither of us knew how to end. "I don't do this," he told me. "I don't let people in." He still doesn't smile. But he stayed. ------------------ ⚠️ Mature themes: violence, dark content. No explicit sexual content.