Iu Marshmallow Novels & Stories

Her gaze fell on the man's attractive thin lips, and she suddenly remembered the deep kiss they had just shared. She felt a little anxious and guilty, and she busily lowered her head. After finishing their meal, Russell took them to a cotton candy shop. Layne looked at the various shapes of marshmallows and opened her eyes wide with surprise. "It looks so delicious!" Russell squatted down and said, "Each color has a flavor, just like this orange one, it tastes like orange. The red one tastes like strawberry. The green one tastes like matcha." Layne looked at the marshmallows shaped like little animals such as cats, dogs, and hippos. He licked his lips and said, "Then I'll have this hippo! It

I like them toasty and golden, not charred," she confessed. "Take mine," he said, offering it to her gallantly She looked at the perfect browned marshmallow on the of his stick, and smiled like a naughty little girl as she took it. She bit into it, and foaming white goo poured out like sweet lava. The sight of her little pink tongue eagerly lapping at it made his whole body tighten with excitement. He stuck the blackened marshmallow into his mouth and chewed it without tasting it

“We had bonfires every night. You kept burning all the marshmallows. I wasn’t sad about it because I love them when they’re all charred.” He nudged her, “why do you think I was burning them? I hate marshmallow.” “What?” “I don’t like marshmallow, especially melted marshmallow. The texture is weird to me, and it is way too sweet. You on the other hand love burnt melty gooey marshmallow so I kept burning them on purpose to give them to you.” “Huh.” “I have a framed photo from that trip in my condo.” “What?”

Open-mouthed, I stared at Elena as she discarded her fourth marshmallow. “I can’t dooooo it!” she whined, throwing the toasting stick on the blanket. “Hang on.” I scootted over until I was behind her and rested my legs on either side of her body. “Get a marshmallow.” “Can’t I stick to chips and wine?” “No.” She huffed, but pulled a marshmallow from the bag and placed it on the prongs. I curled my fingers around hers and leaned forward, making sure the fluffy candy was right over the fire.

I asked. Marley smiled at me. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Do you have anything other than tea?” “Hmm, I have coffee. But no decaf. Oh, wait. I can make hot cocoa,” I offered. She bit her lip. “Do you have marshmallows?” Her sweetness was so endearing. “I do, fancy ones, in fact.” “Fancy ones? What are fancy marshmallows?” “Ones made with vanilla beans for the really bougie clients,” I said through a chuckle. “So, hot cocoa with fancy marshmallows?”

In the Mafia world, you didn't survive by being polite. "No thanks, I brought my own," I declined, reaching into my bag for my silver tumbler. I took a small, careful sip to clear my throat. Across the room, Rebekah watched me, a smug, dark satisfaction settling over her features. Just as the marshals called my name, a sudden, white-hot pain tore through my abdomen. I doubled over, my vision blurring for a split second. Someone had spiked my water. But how? The tumbler had been in my bag. I bit my lip until I tasted copper, forcing the pain down. I hadn’t drunk much—just one sip—but the toxin was already clawing at my gut. I had to push through.

The media franchise of the Marshmello Printing Press had been running beauty campaigns for one of the most expensive luxury brands in the United States. One would think that the company got the advert placement based on merit alone. Sure, they may have gotten it a little off of merit. People like Isioma stay heartbroken every day just so that the company would have enough heartbreak stories to churn out every single year, but there was something more that most people did not know about. Dr. Skims was one of the most popular companies in the whole United States. They sold beauty products to women in all shapes and forms. They had a brand for their liquid wash, their moisturizers, and their su

Her little hand went for my ponytail and she pulled it painfully. I hissed. “I guess you like my ponytail more than me.” Marshmallow giggled again, as if affirming my statement. “Don’t lean on her like that or else you will have no hair left.” Jannet said as she held one-year old Eva on her lap. Guess what? I wasted no time and married Jannet. Then she gave birth to a beautiful marshmallow and that’s why I kept her name Marshmallow. Marshmallow loves her Dad.

White-blonde hair sprouting in a ponytail from the top of her head, Ariel beamed at her with a gap-toothed grin. Anna forced a smile. "Alright, you know the drill. Get what you need." As the guests chatted amiably, she feigned utter focus as the little girl worked to place a fluffy white marshmallow onto a steel toasting fork and hold it clumsily over the fire. But she listened for his deep brogue. "Oh, no!" Ariel cried out as her marshmallow burst into flame. "I burned it." "It's okay," Angus said kindly. "I like it that way. It's how I do it m'self."