Runaway |Larry|

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"I'm not like these people." He whispered. "I believe in Love." I stared in shock before leaning closer to him. 
"That makes two." I hum. "Let's be like the Runaways then." I smile.
At that's what we became.Todos los derechos reservados

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|Chapter one|
lun, jul 20, 2015

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|Chapter one|
lun, jul 20, 2015

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Manic Crush (Book #1 Crush Series) de hea4all

Every girl has 'that' crush. You know what I'm talking about. The one boy who's the first thought on your mind when you wake up, and the last thought before you go to sleep. The one you carefully select your clothes for, don your best makeup, and style your hair perfectly for. I had 'that' crush. Brock was hot; he was sexy and alpha, with dark smoldering eyes and tattoos that littered his rock-hard body. My poor seventeen-year-old heart had no clue how to handle it, because my badass crush wasn't a boy. He was a man; a nightclub owning married man, who also happened to be my best friend's stepdad. I wasn't the only one who was crushing on Emma's stepdad. He knew it too, but the best part about Brock was that he looked like a badass, he acted like a badass, but he treated every single teenage girl in his home with the utmost respect. He had plenty of admirers, but Emma hated anyone who flaunted their shit in front of him. He'd taken her dad's place. He'd moved in not two months after she'd lost him and had tried to 'parent' her. We hated him together; but secretly I adored him. I spent almost three years in a hoodie, scowling at the hottest man in L.A. The day he left Emma's mom was the happiest and saddest day of my life. If you're going to lose your crush, though, ripping it off like a band-aid is the best way to do it. One day he was there and the next he was gone. And now, seven years later, I'm about to walk into his nightclub and audition for him. He's not the man I remember. He's sexier, more intense, and has connections that are not exactly as wholesome as I assumed. But that only makes me want him more....

The Handsome three ( COMPLETED) de ceblack

"Hey! She already said she was sorry. What more do you want?!" I screamed loudly in his face. His face turned from angry to shocked. No one had ever yelled at him that way at school before. He narrowed his eyes at me."She ruined a very expensive shirt so she needs to be punished for it," he responded, his green eyes lit with hate and anger. "So?! You probably have a million other shirts just like it. You spoiled rich boys have no respect for others. You think you're better than everyone else. Well, let me tell you, you are the worst of the worst." I said. I couldn't believe what I had just said. I realized I had given myself a death sentence as the words flew out my mouth. Duke was quiet for a few moments then he finally replied. "You better watch what you say girly," he said as he brushed past my shoulder. His two buddies following him from behind. I couldn't believe what I just did. It felt so invigorating. I felt as though I had an adrenalin rush. I knew that this feeling would not last for long though because I just gave the H3 a new target. Me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rosette just wanted to have a nice and quiet high school life, however, high school life at Highland High Private school is anything but nice and quiet. Rosette was able to go to this school because she received a scholarship however, the school is run by three rich boys named the H3 (Handsome three). They go around just bullying everybody and anybody who makes them mad. What is worse is when a person is targeted at the school the whole school bully's them as well. One day Rosette decided it was enough and confronted Duke, the leader of the H3. After that, her whole life began to change.

Understanding a Storm de operationmissfortune

I despise socializing with a passion. It's a fact: I'm terrible at it. Like the useless person I am with everything else except for academics. It makes me wonder if there was ever such a time when I didn't suck at it so badly. Oh yeah, the time when I haven't met my good old friend, anxiety. Along with it's most honorable sidekick, depression. I hate talking- more than necessary. I can't stand being touched- even if it's just a friendly hug. I, Aisha Storm, in general, don't like people. Years have passed and I'm doing just fine. Alone. That's what I was. Until some guy who I will never admit I found attractive showed up in my life. His smile sends pleasant chills down my spine. The ocean blue color of his eyes capture my attention. His muscular frame emit power, yet he's so gentle I find myself caving into his touch. Most of all, he's capable of stripping the wall I brought up to shun me from civilization with little to no effort. ☆☆☆ Second Book from the Obsession series ☆☆☆ (As always, you are not required to read my other books to prepare yourself for this one. It can be read as it's own. And don't be an asshole who steals my ideas. Love you all <3)

I walked on the nearly empty bus in New York City, which was very rare. It was the middle of the night and this was the last train going around the tracks. It was only me in the car for a few stops. I was hiding my face with a hoodie. I had my headphones in when he walked in. I looked up and our eyes met. He looked familiar and I quickly looked away. He's probably a fan and followed me. I probably met him at a meet and greet, at least that's what I thought. I felt a presence next to me and looked up to see the green/blue eyes that were so familiar. I took one of my earbuds out. "Hi?" I asked. "Hey. If you don't mind me asking, but where are you from?" He asked. "Let me know your name first." I said still cautious. I paused my music and wrapped the earbuds around my phone and put it in my pocket. "Denzel Weller." He said holding out his hand. "Rose Pitcher." I told him taking his hand. He looked so familiar. His name tried to break through a wall in my memories. I looked around us to see that there was one person left on the train besides us. I took my hood off revealing my turquoise hair. I just got it done and that's what I'm going to my hotel from. "So, where are you from?" He asked me. "We say where we're from at the same time." I told him. He nodded. "1.....2.......3!" I said. "LA." We said at the same time. I looked at him surprised. I took a closer look at him. He looked like he was around the same age as me, 21-22. I studied his features. He had smaller than average ears, an average sized nose, a strong jaw line, short medium brown hair, and then his eyes. I stared into his eyes and saw that they held familiarity.

She lures men into the bedroom, promising good fun, but instead threatens them with a knife. No alpha male is safe around her. One might think she's a psychopath, but if someone delves into the dark story of her childhood, they might see her differently. He needs her to get out of financial trouble. To do this, he must cunningly take her against her will to meet a mysterious businessman, and time is running out. Both feel attracted to each other... The guy, whose name had long slipped my mind, squeezed my buttocks tighter and mumbled something in Spanish, but so indistinctly that I couldn't tell what, and then he lifted me up from my knees and pulled me towards the bed. - What's wrong? - he asked, his gaze wandering distractedly over my face and décolletage. - Do you prefer me to come inside you? In response, I shook my head, raising one corner of my mouth in a mischievous smile. Ah, men. So powerful, yet so simple and predictable. - I don't want you to come at all - I murmured, smiling devilishly. Confusion appeared on the Spaniard's face. - What?! Then why did you start? I couldn't help but smile, seeing his dumbfounded expression. - Just to see your face now - I replied with a sickeningly sweet voice, staring at him with icy eyes, still smiling. Chaos erupted in the Spaniard's eyes, so much so that if it was a reflection of what was happening in his head right now, I could congratulate myself on my success. The little voice inside me was jumping for joy. - What?! - the guy exclaimed, getting up abruptly. - Are you crazy?! Stop fooling around and finish what you started. He approached me and groped me, guiding my hand back to his manhood. I didn't resist. I didn't feel like prolonging this game. I was already tired today. I took out a small surgical scalpel from the hem of my frilly skirt, which I practically never parted with, and pressed it against the first available spot on his body that caught my eye. It landed on his lower abdomen.

-"Why are you crying?" What, I didn't know I was crying. -"Come on." He offers a hand to help me up. -"Stay away... from me." I get up on my own a grunt escaping my lips when I feel pain in my knees. -"Your knees!" He crouches down to look at them up close. -"Oh don't act as if you care." I look down and see he has wet hair, which is reasonable since he came out of the bathroom. *Swoop* He scoops me up, my injured knees on his left and my head rests on his right shoulder. I hitch as he picks me up. -"What do you think you're doing? Put me down this instant!" I try to wiggle out of his arms, but it's useless, he holds me tighter to his chest. He gently places me on the bed, and I sit on the edge, I instantly throw my hand to his face intending to slap him. As if it were muscle memory he blocks my hand and gently holds it. He crouches down not breaking eye contact. -"Stella, I'm... sorry. I acted out on you." I know Jacob, and that probably was hard for him to admit. -"Let me treat your knees." He places a gentle hand over my wound. ~ ~ ~ ~ Her Dad was murdered fighting for what was right, her mom didn't love her dad all that much...or her, she plans to follow her dad's footsteps even though that might lead her to death. Her parents had a planed marriage, her mom was more on the medium class while her dad was lower, that said, he needed money to help some important people and ended up marrying a women he didn't love. She has an awful opinion of men. She loved her dad, but she was still mad at him, for his decisions. A little something might happen in her life to change that perspective.

Maybe Us. (Vance Hopper x FEM! Reader) de heorri

You had been attending the same school for over 15 years, obviously because you were born in the small town in North Carolina. You were living a pretty normal life, till all of the abductions started happening in 1977. But lets go back a bit. Lets go back to the year 1976. You had been on a night shift on November 18th, 1976. There were many more people than your previous shift. Really the only people there were dropouts, druggies, drug dealers, freaks, and alcoholics. All around the ages 14-22. Everybody was pretty chill with eachother, except for a few people, but that was just the minority. You had been zoned out while staring at the clock, then suddenly heard a DING! Some kid wanted to buy some cigarettes again. You looked at him and he said "Jesus kid, you in a mental insitute or something? Snap out of it." you ringed him up after he asked you for a pack of camels, and then looked at a familiar guy playing pinball. The same blonde that got over 100,000 his last time he came. Everybody started hyping him up, so he's trying to beat 100,000. You remember the mess you had to clean up after some kid accidently knocked over a bunch of beer. You like to not think about how it ruined your favorite pair of shoes. He messed up again, and kicked the machine. You yelled out to him "That thing costs money you know." then he looked at you. His face almost looked angelic. But he had been the jerk of your highschool, so he couldn't be that angelic. He looked away and picked at his pockets. He pulled out nothing. He started walking up to you and started asking for a dime. "Come on, I feed you guys this money all the damn time. Plus you will just get it back." "Then maybe don't waste all your money on pinball. We've gained around $200 with you coming here almost everyday. Thanks for that." and then you smiled while picking up your book. He looked at you in anger, then you looked back up at him. He looked like he was in a bad mood. "Here's a dime." you said handing him a dime.

Why don't you get it? I can never be good for you! I am worthless" I said trying to hold in my tears. There was no way he was going to see me cry. "They are beautiful to me. I don't see a single reason why you should hate them" he said moving his wheel chair closer to where I stood. "This" he said bringing my hand where I had some faint scars and kissing them. "Would always be a story to me of how you survived." He looked at me. There were no lies in them, just his pure truth. "I love you Aren" he said. For the first time since anyone said that to me, I believed it.

COMPLETED!!! here's a snip bit ! "Hey Belle" he said with a cheeky smile. I look up and give him the fakest smile i can put on "did my constant harasser also become my stalker?" i said referring to him saying my name before looking back at my computer. He sat down next to me. "Not a stalker or a harasser just an acquaintance" he said before continuing "also i got your name from your friend, also let her know i do not want her please and thank you" he said before getting up "she doesn't want you either" i responded not moving my eyes from the screen "definitely not what she said last night" he said flashing me a smile which i rolled my eyes to. I was sincerely praying he was grabbing his stuff to go so i wouldn't have another interaction with him, but of course not. His friend left and he came back and sat by me. "I'm trying to do homework can you please go somewhere else" i said in a heavily annoyed tone. "See i would, but one i think you like me too much to actually want me to leave" he said before i cut him off "i don't" he laughed before continuing "this next part is really gonna suck then" he said pausing obviously waiting for a reaction out of me which i don't give him. "fine. you're no fun. we have to schedule our tutoring times" he said before nudging me "i'm your first student to tutor surprise!" he said in a tone that i can only describe as annoying because that's all he is, is annoying. I look up at his face that's gleaming with joy purely because i'm annoyed.

"Alright, it's 12 noon. Deal or not?" I couldn't look at him, so I stared at the beauty in front of me. Somehow I knew he was watching it too. I felt like we were characters of a famous story, standing side by side, gazing ahead. I hesitated, my heart was beating fast, I was almost afraid that he's going to hear it too. But for the first time in my life, I trusted my heart and told my brain to go to hell. The girl lead in this story was going to do what she wanted, and won't fear the consequences. "Let's do this." I said and turned towards him. We remained silent for a couple of moments, absorbing the meaning of the deal we just agreed to. And then I saw his lips turned upwards just enough for me to notice. He turned to me and held my hand. I felt several emotions just by touching him. Nervousness, excitement, fear, happiness all at once. I pushed them all aside, and smiled ear to ear. He held his hand up, counting down to three, my heart racing with every finger he raised. And just as he finished, we jumped off the cliff.

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Slide 1 of 10

Manic Crush (Book #1 Crush Series) cover

Maybe Us. (Vance Hopper x FEM! Reader) cover

Manic Crush (Book #1 Crush Series)

Every girl has 'that' crush. You know what I'm talking about. The one boy who's the first thought on your mind when you wake up, and the last thought before you go to sleep. The one you carefully select your clothes for, don your best makeup, and style your hair perfectly for. I had 'that' crush. Brock was hot; he was sexy and alpha, with dark smoldering eyes and tattoos that littered his rock-hard body. My poor seventeen-year-old heart had no clue how to handle it, because my badass crush wasn't a boy. He was a man; a nightclub owning married man, who also happened to be my best friend's stepdad. I wasn't the only one who was crushing on Emma's stepdad. He knew it too, but the best part about Brock was that he looked like a badass, he acted like a badass, but he treated every single teenage girl in his home with the utmost respect. He had plenty of admirers, but Emma hated anyone who flaunted their shit in front of him. He'd taken her dad's place. He'd moved in not two months after she'd lost him and had tried to 'parent' her. We hated him together; but secretly I adored him. I spent almost three years in a hoodie, scowling at the hottest man in L.A. The day he left Emma's mom was the happiest and saddest day of my life. If you're going to lose your crush, though, ripping it off like a band-aid is the best way to do it. One day he was there and the next he was gone. And now, seven years later, I'm about to walk into his nightclub and audition for him. He's not the man I remember. He's sexier, more intense, and has connections that are not exactly as wholesome as I assumed. But that only makes me want him more....

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