Cosmic Dust
- Leituras 15
- Votos 1
- Capítulos 12
You can leave a mark, even if you don't twist and turn the knife.
You can leave me bleeding, even if your weapon does not sparkle.
You left me dying, but whenever I gaze back at the memories I saw no fluctuations to our moments, for I loved every day that together we spent; but then again, our days were all about sprinkling glitter to the already vanishing feelings.
October 11 tears
Todos os Direitos Reservados
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Drawn To Ruin
We met in thorns sharp enough to pierce me from the very start. His words cut deep, leaving marks I couldn't ignore, and his dark eyes with the shade of red I swore I'd never fall into. He was the worst, the last person I ever wanted to hold on to. And yet, I did Because no matter how hard I tried, destiny kept pulling us back together And no matter how many times his thorns drew blood, I realized I'd rather bleed holding his rose . . . than watch it fade from my hands Isn't that what love is? Bleeding for the rose, just to see it bloom?
𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑹𝒆𝒚𝒏𝒂 (GXGXG)
BDSM 18+ "𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢. 𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥," 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘴. "𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺." 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴. "𝘐-𝘐..." "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱," 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬, "𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯?" 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘫𝘢𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬. Two obsessions. One girl.Concluída
𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘
𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲. 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫. (𝐧.) 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ; 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 • 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝜗𝜚Concluída
Unveiled Sessions
𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘺. 𝘕𝘦𝘳𝘥. 𝘗𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦. That's what everyone calls me while turning up their noses at me. Even if it's true, I don't care. I have a plan. Keep my head down and graduate from Huxley High to get into my dream university. Well, that was my plan. Until something shattered everything I had worked for. Until I started partnering up for an assignment with the daughter of the family who owns the town. She has the world at her feet. Popular, talented, out of everyone's league, with good looks to match. Everyone craves a piece of her and worships the ground she walks on. Except me. What begins with a school project starts invoking feelings in me, awaking something deep and irresistible in me. 𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦... I have never truly existed, until her. The things she makes me feel are filthy. Obscene. But, I soon start begging for more, begging to a degree that scares me as much as it excites me. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥? 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐄 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘦. 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩. I always had everything under control, nothing happened I didn't plan for. Until an unforeseen obligation turned my life upside down. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳. She barged into my life unannounced and stripped me down of all the defenses I had built. 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵. 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥. 𝘐𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦. A school assignment. A deadline. It should have been a piece of cake. I'm Bailey Steele after all, there is nothing I can't handle.
i like to burn things
im just a silhouette with a fading mind TRIGGER WARNING:; self harm, depression, suicide, mental illness etc.Concluída
𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄
❝𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧, 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭.❞ Two fashion students, 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈 and 𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐎𝐍. They recklessly hate each other. Their whole body fills up with rage with every eye contact, every reminiscence of the other, every touch. What will happen when they are assigned a project, and that project turns out to be a photoshoot? Maybe, they'll come to terms with the burning feeling that envelops their bodies wasn't 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝, overall. Copyright © 2022 deidarren™ No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended, pictures belong to the rightful owners.
Saint Attic The Girl
Write as much as you want, nothing will come of it. Describe whatever you'd like, nothing you want to glean from such triviality as abyssal moaning will become within your grasp. The only one who doesn't help you is you, that's what I've tried telling you. Still you lament.
The things we don't say
I wanted her to scream, "Because you make my heart bleed, when you look at me like that!" She'd say something like, "Why would you want your heart to bleed? If I'm causing you pain, what good am I too you?" Maybe I'd answer, "No one thing can be beautiful, without a little pain. You're not just pain, you're the one beautiful thing.. MY beautiful thing." Then we'd kiss, and the rain would start. But she didn't. She never will. It's the things we don't say.
We met in thorns sharp enough to pierce me from the very start. His words cut deep, leaving marks I couldn't ignore, and his dark eyes with the shade of red I swore I'd never fall into. He was the worst, the last person I ever wanted to hold on to. And yet, I did Because no matter how hard I tried, destiny kept pulling us back together And no matter how many times his thorns drew blood, I realized I'd rather bleed holding his rose . . . than watch it fade from my hands Isn't that what love is? Bleeding for the rose, just to see it bloom?
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