Pliant Like A Bamboo

“If you don’t want me to fuck the hell out of you,” he whispered, “you should leave. Right now.” I tilted my head, caught his gaze, and let the words roll off my tongue like a dare. “Scopami allora.” (Fuck me then.) When Elena caught her fiancé in bed with her twin sister, betrayal wasn’t even the worst part—it was the humiliation. The cruel words. The way they laughed while shattering her heart. But Elena isn’t weak anymore. Not when Lucian Moretti, her ex’s ruthless rival, steps out of the shadows with an offer she can’t refuse: be his lover, even if only pretend, and together they’ll destroy the people who broke her. He’s cold, commanding, and dangerously addictive. His touch promises damnation, his kiss is a weapon, and his presence leaves her trembling between rage and desire. She knows he’s using her. He knows she’s playing with fire. But when revenge tastes like sin, when hate feels like heat—how do you stop yourself from falling?

With his hair as white as snow, blue eyes carrying weight as deep as the ocean and porcelain skin that looks almost translucent under the sun, Gavin has become his pack's subject of ridicule and abuse. At first it was just because of his appearance, and then he presented as an omega, the lowest of ranks, and it just only became worse. On top of that, he’s the only one who couldn’t even shift, a disgrace of a shifter who cannot even embrace their wolf. Living his whole life like this, he has come to accept it, and acknowledged that maybe this is really just his fate.A news of a pack visiting to look for their pack alpha’s son’s mate spreads like wild fire and soon after, everyone in his pack prepared of it. Everyone waited with bated breaths only for them to be beyond disappointed when the alpha’s eyes landed on Gavin, eyes glinting gold. With both packs unhappy with the turn of events, how would Gavin’s life turn out now? If only they knew who he really is, if only he knew, would he have allowed them to look down on him like this?In between disapproving looks and attempts to get rid of him, Gavin finds love whom he had ever only heard of before, the kind of love that people wrote and sang about, cried for, and died for.“Has anyone ever told you that you resemble snow? Your voice reminds me of it, gentle, almost crooning, but still cold. Even your scent, cinnamon and a bit like molasses. You greatly remind me of winter.”“Really? That’s lovely to hear. I love winter.”He smiles.“So do I.”

Tate flirts with danger the same way he flirts with men. Recklessly. So when his father’s debts land him in the hands of Enzo Moretti, a cold-blooded mafia boss with a smile as sharp as his threats, Tate should be terrified. Instead, he flirts harder, hiding sharp eyes behind thick glasses like he doesn’t see the monster watching him. But he does. He always did. Enzo is no ordinary criminal. He’s a werewolf with a body built to break, a past soaked in blood, and a temper barely kept in check. Tate is supposed to be collateral—silent, obedient, forgotten. But Tate? He’s loud, shameless, stubborn enough to make Enzo feel. For months, they circle each other—clashing, teasing, burning. Enzo should’ve killed him, but instead, he steals him. Holds him. Breaks him open until their craving for each other twists between punishment and pleasure, until need feels like worship, and pain starts to taste like love. Then, when Tate thinks he’s escaped, when he thinks he’s free—Enzo lets him go. When someone else tries to take what’s already his, Enzo doesn’t hesitate. He drags Tate back, and now the boy wears his name, carries his ring, and sleeps in his bed. Maybe Tate should hate him. But he doesn’t. Because he never wanted gentle. He never wanted safe. He wanted this—blinding, consuming desire. And Enzo? He doesn’t let go. Not when he’s tasted him. Marked him. Owned him. Because monsters like him don’t share. Not even with their own blood.

My son has a high fever, so I call my husband. However, he thinks I'm using our child to get his attention. Then, he takes his true love's son to the hospital when he's only scratched his finger. I look at my son, whose face is pale. I ask, "Do you want another father?" He nods. "Yeah. Dad doesn't like me, so I don't want to like him anymore." Later, I find him another father. That's when my husband objects.

I wanted a start over, somewhere quiet. That is why I agreed to move to a new town with mom. The haunting memories were too much to handle. I felt like I couldn't breathe anymore. Entry into a new home should be rewarding, refreshing even. But is It? Why does it feel like I've run into a place that has me question every noise, people and even my own dreams? Something lurks in the deep parts of the forest, it's calling my name- a summon. 'It's You!' That's what I heard. But I never realised that my very own existence, was what GRIPPED the secrets of the moon.

I was running away. Away from an abusive husband…a family that didn’t care what he did to me. Friends who told me that I should be grateful. He has money, so I should just listen and live my life not working about being paycheck to paycheck like I had been. What I didn’t know was that with finding my way into a small town, I would catch the attention of a family. This family is different though…and I don’t know if I like their attention or not. But ever time I am with them I tend to do impulsive things.

“I’ll keep you safe, Anya. Even if I have to lock you away.” * * Her brother kept her away from the Bratva’s bloody world. But the night he was killed, Anya Vasiliev was thrown into it. Straight into the arms of his best friend, Roman Sokolov. Now the new Pakhan, Roman swears she’s safest with him. But his protection feels like a prison… and his obsession, like chains tightening around her throat. He says he’ll burn Moscow to the ground for her. But will she ever escape the man who swore she’ll belong to him? No matter the cost?

By the second year of my marriage to Quentin Lambert, we had a son. Fast forward five years, and I was basically a human cookbook, agonizing over every pinch of salt like it was rocket science. One night, Quentin tossed out, "Too much salt." And our son? He didn't even blink—he dumped the whole pot down the drain right in front of me. That's when it hit me—pure exhaustion, like a tidal wave. I told Quentin I wanted a divorce. He didn't even bother looking up. "Is that really necessary?" I nodded, my voice flat. "It is."

Elaina Bree Mostoles is a happy-go-lucky girl who happens to have a crush to the campus bad boy---Brent Manu Chadwick. * * To have a crush is just a light-hearted and slight juvenile way to express a strong affection to someone, that's at least what Bree knows. And being a brave girl, she plans to confess her feelings by doing some crazy stuffs. Like cheering him up while playing basketball and many more. At first she was just determined to get his attention, but as the time passes by, it seems like there's a sudden change with her feelings. And things getting more complicated when she found out Brent's true identity.

 “Humans like you always beg in the end and it’s pathetic.” "I am going to fuck you like a whore and later beg to be killed", NOT REJECTED BUT UNWANTED  My world cracked open in an instant. “No!” I screamed, but the alley swallowed it. My legs gave out, but his grip held me up, forcing me to watch. Alex—was he—? His body twitched. Once. Twice. Then... nothing. “You’ll join him soon enough,” he whispered, but did he mean it? Was I next? Before I could process, his hand lashed out. My vision went black. Was this the end?