One Shot Fanfiction Novels & Stories

They were acting stupid! [I have to say, they really brought it on themselves.] [Mabel was telling the truth!] [Yeah, I really misunderstood her.] [We're sorry, Mabel!] [Everyone who insulted her earlier owes her an apology!] [This is insane. You all just cyberbullied someone who was already being bullied.] [They kicked her out on a bridge with no phone. Wait, did she walk all the way back?] That comment shot to the top. An officer draped a blanket over my shoulders and asked me the same question.

"I’m sleeping in Alana’s room! On the floor! With a stuffed bear! Nothing is happening!" Shannon cackled, clutching her stomach. "Oh, please. You’re both consenting adults. Alana falls asleep, you get 'thirsty' in the middle of the night, you wander into the kitchen... and there he is, shirtless, drinking milk straight from the carton. One look, one touch, and—" "There is no 'one touch'! You've watched way too many Hallmark movies and read too much smut!" I reached across and pinched her arm hard.

He took a somewhat worn-out wallet from the inner pocket of his black suit. In the wallet's lining was a yellowed photograph. In the photograph, I was fresh from my wolf awakening and was wearing a white dress. My eyes were shrunken up from smiling as I held a sunflower windmill. My background was the tree-lined path of the werewolf academy. It was taken on our first date. He kept it close to him but never admitted to me that he cared. He reached out his hand, covered in horribly scarred burns, to touch the inscription on the tombstone, but his fingertips trembled violently in mid-air.

Nicole looked at the clock in the room and said, “I’m kind of in a hurry so I’ll make my story brief and comprehensive. After breaking your heart, I owe you an explanation my darling Muhammad.” Muhammad tried switching on the radio on his belt, in hope that anyone on the other end could listen to the conversation if the signal was restored. If Maryam and he were going to die tonight, their death might as well not be in vain. The most important thing was revealing the real identity of The First One.

It weird or not surprising there’s a gun still lying beside this certain blurry frame……. 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 #TBC_ #Inspired by Mean girls A/N: am so sorry for late updates and so, am busy so busy I barely have my own time again. But don’t forget to review your thought and check out my other stories too on W*****d. Username: Davewhite182

(Office Lady 1) “That’s a gun shot wound!…clearly not a simple case of accident….poor that girl…2 shots, on her stomach and chest…she gone for sure..I guaranteed it…Also comment above +1..”. (Military Enthusiast) “The man looks like he was running for a dear life…though a bit sad..but still looks cool..is this a new K drama gimmick?…?.?”. (Drama Lover 90)

"I'm no longer the former fangirl," “Who freely gave everything that she had to me? Then all of a sudden everything that happened seemed to have nothing to her, even if I am the first man in her life?” Andrew said abruptly in a strong tone. Lana stared into the young man's eyes and then sighed. She didn’t expect the hatred she saw in the windows of his soul. "That's a one-night stand!" she said emphatically, even though the truth was, that was not what she wanted to say.

LIAM’S POV. “Oh!.” I groan under my breath as I stare down at the creature I had shot with the gun, lying still in front of me. Only this time, it isn’t a deer, as I think it is. It is a living being. Not just any living being but a female, one that lies there stark naked. “Oh!” I groan again and run my fingers through my thick Brown hair. My head is reeling with thoughts of things to do.

I don’t sleep with strangers. But because she looks like she won’t make it through the night unless someone does. And when I take her to my hotel-room… She comes apart like glass in my hands. One finger, then two. She’s all heat and need, lips parted around a sob she refuses to let out. I don’t kiss her. I don’t ask. I just give her the release she’s clawing toward like salvation. And when she shatters—writhing, gasping, clenching around me like I’m the only anchor she has left, head lolled back, hair stuck to sweat-damp skin—she looks like a goddamn angel ruined by war.