Literaryfiction Stories

Life is like a rollercoaster. It has its ups and downs, but it's your choice whether to scream or enjoy the ride. What happens when life throws you off track completely? Do you scream... or do you hold on tighter? For Ira and Rudraksh, the journey is far from smooth. One is suffocating under the weight of failure, the other carrying the fragments of a shattered heart. Two strangers, caught in life's ugliest turns, where every step forward is a fight against invisible battles. This is not a story of being saved by each other, but of learning to live despite the wreckage, of finding the courage to stand when the ground never stops shaking. However, if their paths ever converge, will they find solace in each other... or will their differences pull them apart? ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ This is a character-driven literary fiction set in a contemporary world, where every character breathes fully and every emotion unfolds in its own time. It is the kind of story that feels less like something you read and more like something you live beside, watching the characters grow, falter, heal, and discover themselves at their own pace. If you have a moment, and a heart willing to feel deeply and quietly, I invite you into this universe of mine. And if you wish to know more, simply explore the tags. They hold the essence of what awaits you here... with a little something extra, like a cherry on top. Copyright © 2026 Jambudweep. This content is protected under applicable international copyright laws. Unauthorized reproduction, adaptation, translation, or redistribution on any platform without the author's explicit written permission is prohibited. Original publication: Wattpad.

A collection of emotional short stories filled with love, loss, family, regret, healing, and hope. From silent heartbreaks to unexpected second chances, each story captures the fragile emotions that make us human and the quiet moments that stay with us forever.

What if the person you trust the most... is also the one you know the least? A love story told entirely in poems. It begins like comfort. Like something safe finally existing without effort. But slowly, things don't add up the way they used to. Nothing changes visibly. Yet everything feels different. The same story keeps unfolding, but the meaning doesn't stay the same. And somewhere between love and realization, everything quietly changes shape.

The solar system is not a collection of rocks and gas. It is a court. Ancient. Immortal. And built around a secret that everyone knows except the one person it concerns. For four billion years, Jove - the largest force in the solar court - has been pulling every asteroid, every comet, every threat away from the third orbit. Away from Terra. Not because she asked. Not because anyone told him to. Because the moment the third orbit began trying to become something, he could not bring himself to let anything stop it. Terra has lived her entire existence inside a dome of protection she never knew existed. And Jove has spent four billion years in love with someone who didn't know he was there. Until now. Because she felt it. All those quiet evenings when the light turned gold and everything went still - that was him. She just didn't have a name for it. A story about the cost of loving without being asked. About protection and possession. About what happens when the most powerful force in the universe finally learns to open his hands.

Archie only meant to play one game. Then Chris logged in. What begins as late-night matches and routine conversations slowly becomes something harder to name - a friendship built in loading screens, Discord calls, and the quiet intimacy of always being there. But some people only meet you in the hours between loneliness and sleep. And some almosts are harder to survive than endings.

She never feared love. She feared disappearing inside it. She had seen it happen too many times - women who slowly shrank... women who softened until they became silent. Mothers. Aunties. Grandmothers. Strong women who became shadows in their own homes. She promised herself she would never be one of them. Independent. Intentional. Unapologetic. She built a life that belonged entirely to her. Then she met him. He didn't try to control her. He didn't try to cage her. He didn't demand obedience or submission. He simply stood there - calm, steady, observant. And somehow... that unsettled her more. Because what happens when the kind of love you prepared to fight against... is not a fight at all? This is not just a romance. It is about boundaries. It is about softness that refuses to shrink. It is about the kind of man who doesn't need to dominate to feel powerful. And the kind of woman who refuses to disappear. Coming soon.

Dale was left on convent steps with nothing but a name. He learned to be invisible-because survival demanded it. Min-shin was born with everything. Good looks. Popularity. The kind of attention most kids only dream of. But the one person who refused to look at him? That drove him mad. Jin inherited an empire built on cold calculations. He was taught that friends are weaknesses. Then he found a dusty stockroom. Red bean buns. And a boy who asked for nothing. One of them will burn too bright. One will disappear. And one will learn that protecting the people you love sometimes means letting them go. Spanning twenty years and two continents. Marked by a fire that leaves no one untouched-and a question none of them can outrun: What are you worth when the world isn't watching?

You wake up in your childhood bed with a bruise on your forehead and no memory of how you got home. The friends who celebrated you the night before all have different versions of what happened. The more you search for the truth, the worse the migraines become. Your mother warned you about them. Now you have to decide which is more dangerous: losing your memory or recovering it.

The story continues as the mysterious warden of Zig-Zig is eventually informed about Herschel's escape. Against every principle of his precious Dalmicir school, Lyeasrakardsul submits and asks the Knomes for help before finally receiving the dreaded p-wyrd. Herschel is arrested as a chicken thief and brought to the town Stagna where he has been prejudged as a p-e-r-v-e-r-t by popular opinion, and where he will have some of the most significant encounters in his life.

Some people were kind. Some were cruel. Most were only trying to survive days they did not fully understand. And among them - somewhere in the middle of it all - was him. His name was Arlen. On the morning of June 5, 2014, Arlen woke to the sound of birds outside his window. The sunlight was warm and familiar. The day smelled like cut grass and gasoline from the road. He dressed without thinking, ate without tasting, and stepped outside into a world that had no idea what was coming. Neither did he. At dusk, the man in the dark coat found him. Arlen never learned his name. He didn't need to. There are people whose nature announces itself before any introduction - in the way they move, in the coldness behind their eyes, in the particular silence that follows them like a shadow. This man was one of them. Tall, gaunt, dressed in a long dark coat that didn't suit the summer heat. His face was angular, almost carved, and his smile - when it came - held no warmth at all. Their confrontation began with words and ended with violence. Arlen didn't start the fight. But he didn't run from it either. Perhaps that was the good in him - the refusal to look away when something terrible stood right in front of him. Or perhaps it was pride. Or stupidity. The line between courage and foolishness is thinner than most people admit. They struggled - fists, desperation, the scrape of shoes on gravel. Arlen fought hard. He fought with everything he had. It wasn't enough. The pain came sharp and sudden - a blade he hadn't seen, slipping between his ribs like a whisper. The world tilted. The sky, which had been bruised with sunset, turned impossibly bright. He felt his knees hit the ground. He felt the warmth of his own blood spreading across his shirt. He tried to breathe and found that he couldn't. The man in the dark coat stood over him, watching with that empty smile. And then - darkness. Arlen woke up.

*A band on the run. Two souls lost between back roads, borrowed stages, and songs that seem to know them better than they know themselves.* A boy survives a killing, and a knife changes everything. Kid spends his life chasing freedom through every woman, every highway, every late-night song-believing love might finally quiet the voices inside him. Midnight whispers: *Leave. Be free.* Dawn answers: *Stay. Be known.* He wants both. He loses both. Chance only falls in love once, and it destroys him. He disappears into the road, the music, and the spaces between towns, trying to become something strong enough to survive the wreckage. But when their paths collide, love becomes heavier than desire. It becomes a cost neither man is ready to pay. Because on these roads, freedom never comes clean-and staying always asks for a piece of your soul. *The Dead Cowboys* is a slow-burn modern western blending magical realism, found family, ancestral myth, and the melancholy atmosphere of late-night Americana. For readers who love emotional healing dramas, lonely highways, music mythology, and stories that ache long after the last page. #slowburn #foundfamily #magicalrealism #music #americana #roadtrip #melancholy #characterdriven > "Some men learn. The rest become The Dead Cowboys."

A Little Life but make it 13 pages. At 18, Brie Alvarez inherits her brother's duffel bag. This isn't a story about death, it's about the weight of it and being the good kind of fraud. Updates: Sunday 11AM ET - some bags are just hard to put down so let's carry it together.

The Brennans don't do quiet! Five children. Two parents. One Bedford house that holds them all, and the kind of love that doesn't always find the right words, but always finds the room. Uncomplicated is a collection of slice-of-life vignettes from inside the Brennan family. The kitchens. The cars. The late-night conversations that don't end the world but quietly shape it. The moments between the seasons of a family's life; the ones that don't make the headlines but somehow hold everything together. These aren't the stories that break the Brennans. These are the ones that hold them. A companion collection to the Brennan Family Saga - Choice, Storm, Wanting... No prior reading required, these stand on their own. Contains adult content. Intended for mature readers.

She thought he ghosted her. He thought she didn't care. They were both wrong. Wildlife conservationist Noah meets actor Pedro at the worst possible moment -- right after throwing up on him. But instead of a disaster, it becomes the best weekend of her life. Beach walks, rainforest hikes, conversations that feel like coming home. She writes her number on a napkin. He promises to call. Ten months pass. Silence. Noah buries the hurt and throws herself into work. Pedro does the same, convinced the weekend meant nothing to her. Then they run into each other at a conservation center in Chile. The anger is immediate. So is the attraction. He lost her number. She thought he lied. Now they have three weeks to fix what broke -- or walk away from the connection they never stopped feeling. ── ⊹ ˖♡˖ ⊹ ── Hey guys! I'm almost done with this one, so I'll start posting more chapters soon. What do you think so far? Anything marked with a ♡ will have smut. There won't be much but just in case :)

The island of Kalydoros was never important enough to be remembered by history. A quiet Mediterranean administrative island of harbors, mountain villages, exhausted hotels, and inherited routines, it survives through tourism, bureaucracy, and the collective agreement that nothing truly changes there anymore. Then the standing begins. People stop in the streets without explanation. Conversations fracture mid-sentence. Entire districts fall silent for minutes at a time. Those affected return altered; calm, functional, and increasingly difficult to recognize beneath their ordinary behavior. As doctors, municipal officials, hotel workers, and residents struggle to understand what is spreading across the island, the structures meant to preserve order begin quietly reorganizing around something far older than panic. The Borrowed is a slow-burn literary mystery exploring isolation, institutional silence, memory, and the terrifying speed at which reality can become normal once enough people agree not to question it. New chapters released weekly. © 2026 Samuel Harry Lorian. All rights reserved.

They say, 'Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.' I never truly grasped the depth of this truth until I drew near and looked; it wasn't the face I knew that stared back, but my raging volcano-the one I thought my silence had finally extinguished. Behind every Sukat, lies a story that refuses to die out, and within that mirror... the confrontation begins. "This is a translation of my original Arabic novel, capturing the soul of a journey that transcends languages." Note: I am also the author of this story on Royal Road.

A collection of short stories varying from different themes. Joy to sadness. Grief to love. Twice a week- a new story. Estimate: Monday and Thursday (Under 200 words)

He was accused of rape and forced to marry a disabled English heiress. In 1948, the world is a map of fresh scars. In Nigeria, Chiedozie is the "bridge"-the chosen son of an ambitious family, sent across the Atlantic to master the white man's machines and bring the future home. But England is not the motherly embrace promised in colonial textbooks. It is a land of rationing, bone-chilling fog, and a "color bar" that feels like an invisible noose. Working as a laborer on the decaying Whittemore estate to fund his engineering degree, Edozie navigates a world where his accent is a curiosity and his skin is a threat. His life is a meticulous equation of survival-until Genevieve, the Magistrate's daughter, weaponizes a lie that shatters his world. Accused of a crime he did not commit, Edozie is faced with a choice that tastes of ash: the gallows and a ruined legacy, or a marriage of convenience to Elara Whittemore, the master's daughter. Elara is a prisoner of her own body and her father's greed. To the world, she is a "broken" heiress; to her father, she is a locked vault to an inheritance. To save himself, Edozie must become her guardian. To save herself, Elara must trust a man the world has told her to fear. In a house built of mahogany and secrets, two outcasts must find a way to live within a cage of silk and stone. But as the British Empire begins to crumble, they realize that the most dangerous thing in 1948 England isn't the law-it's the heart. AUTHOR'S NOTE "I wanted to write a story that felt like a lost classic-where the prose is as heavy as the Essex mud and as sharp as a Lagos sun. This is for the dreamers who found themselves in a world that wasn't built for them. Expect chapters that breathe, settings that bleed, and a romance that earns every single spark."

Raised on blood, secrets, and survival, Delia spent her childhood on her grandmother's pig farm but it's the place she swore she'd never return to. Now, ten years later, grief drags her back to the only home that ever truly claimed her. Delia returns to the farm after her grandmother's death, the last heir to a quiet legacy of rural vengeance. Isolated, grim, and fiercely loyal to the rules that shaped her, she intends to keep to herself. But word travels. And women start to come. Some desperate, some dangerous asking the question she thought was buried with the past: "Do you still take care of problems?" As Delia begins to clean up after men the law won't touch, she's forced to confront her inheritance both the brutal, clear-eyed justice her grandmother taught her and the deep, festering rot it's grown into. When a teenage girl begs to be taken in, and a persistent investigator starts circling, Delia must decide if she'll burn it all down or raise the next generation.

A Little Girl Named Sana ."Sana cannot see the colors of the sunset, but she can hear the rhythm of the river and smell the arrival of the rain. This is the world as she weaves it."