"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

Annalise sees the world as though she is looking at it from afar. As if it's just a meaningless painting in a museum that she is observing. Admiring the beautiful strokes and the imperfections that somehow manage to make it even more intriguing. The last thing she would ever expect is someone reaching out from the painting and pulling her inside. The colors feeling as though she can practically taste them on her tongue. Suddenly being indulged by something she once saw as so two dimensional. Something that she once thought had no soul, no form of beauty beneath the surface. Only being able to see a pretty frame and gorgeous yet seemingly meaningless brush strokes. A life hidden in plain sight. Highest ranks: #1 in library #7 in fictional characters #1 in cute #6 in high school #1 in slowburn #4 in teen romance

Luna is always looking at the bright side of things. She looks for any ray of sunshine in a sea of darkness. She manages to bring a smile to her face even on her darkest days. One day she stumbles upon a boy in a library. Everyone needs a little bit of light in their life. Maybe she could be his. Highest ranks: #1 in library #1 in teen love #1 in funny #2 in high school #2 in cute #2 in good girl #1 in cliche #3 in friends to lovers

"How do you say idiot in Italian?" "Bell'uomo." [ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛] "You're a bell'uomo." .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. Isabelle Ariti just needed someone to talk to, and Leonardo Rossi happened to be there. He was her escape and she was his. Her obsession with sunglasses and constant talking went well with his quite behavior and glares he sent to everyone else. They weren't a likely match but somehow they understood each other more than anyone else could. He was rude and blunt to everyone; everyone but her. She was extroverted and bold to all; especially him. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. Isabelle Ariti just wanted waffles and to meet someone new. She didn't expect to spark the mafias dons right hand mans interest. Leonardo Rossi just wanted to be alone and have coffee. He wasn't expecting the talkative girl that didn't know what a filter was to rope him in with her unexpected comments. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. "Do you love me?" "Endlessly." .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. The chapters get better as the story goes on/theres character development Words: 137,631k .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

18-year-old Farrah gets thrown into a whole new life with her best friend Olly. Moving half way across the world comes with complications and troubles, but undeniable joy and new experiences to thrive in. One of those experiences being meeting someone. He's arrogant and conceited, the complete opposite of Farrah. But like they say, opposites attract... right? She keeps unfolding new secrets within the professional environment where she newly works, finding out that not everyone is who they say they are. Trust is delicate, darling. -------- My thoughts are crumpled as I go flying to the floor behind me, hitting it harshly with impact. I land straight on my ass, my forearms flying to my sides to support me. The room spins slightly as I lift my gaze to try and see the cause that made me fall to the ground in front of so many people. Way to make a good first impression, now they all probably think you're a clumsy bitch who doesn't belong in this professional environment. I try to rid my fogged mind as I direct my gaze upwards, as soon as I do, I freeze. My mind doesn't take in any of my surroundings apart from the dark eyes locked with my own, sending daggers in my direction. They are a cruel grey, they look like shadows descending onto me. I never knew that the look in someone's eyes could make me so timid and afraid, I feel like prey and the predator is stood intimidatingly over me waiting for the right moment to attack again. "Watch where you're going next time, darling," the husky voice echoes off of the cold walls of the foyer, making his condescending tone rebound multiple times through my mind. I stay slouched on the floor, hands behind me as I stare up at him in shock, unable to form any words. His strident words still rebounding through me, words that were patronising and brutal. His eyes make me afraid, but his words make me infuriated.

She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** #1 in Young Adult #9 in Badboy #1 in Cold #3 in Goodgirl #1 in Sweetheart #14 in Love *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes)