Pretty Woman Fanfiction

Judul: "Di Ambang Gila" Sinopsis: Ketika dua jiwa yang sama-sama rusak bertabrakan, dunia mereka meledak dalam badai emosi, obsesi, dan ketergantungan yang tak terhindarkan. Ares, seorang seniman jalanan yang hidup dari malam ke malam, bertemu dengan Elara-seorang ahli neurosains muda yang menyimpan trauma masa kecil yang tak pernah sembuh. Pertemuan mereka bukan kebetulan: Elara sedang meneliti efek hubungan ekstrem terhadap otak manusia, dan Ares adalah subjek sempurna-liar, tak terikat, dan penuh luka. Hubungan mereka berkembang menjadi simbiosis yang tak sehat: penuh gairah, pertengkaran brutal, dan momen-momen ketergantungan yang membuat mereka tak bisa hidup tanpa satu sama lain. Mereka saling menghancurkan dan membangun kembali, berulang kali, dalam siklus yang semakin intens. Di balik semua itu, ada rahasia besar yang mengikat mereka: eksperimen psikologis yang dijalankan Elara diam-diam, dan masa lalu Ares yang ternyata berhubungan langsung dengan trauma Elara sendiri. Fanfiction ini akan membawa pembaca menyelami: - 💥 Ketegangan emosional yang terus meningkat - 🧠 Eksplorasi psikologis tentang cinta obsesif dan trauma - 🔄 Hubungan yang berputar antara cinta, kebencian, dan ketergantungan - 🎭 Karakter-karakter kompleks yang terus berkembang dan berubah

I dropped by to help my younger sister revise her thesis, and while I was at it, I joined her research group for dinner. The moment I walked into the private dining room, a few girls blushed and called out to me. “Hey, handsome, are you single? Give us a shot!” My sister’s boyfriend, Eric Pensworth, looked at me with a faint smile. “Man, you look kind of familiar. You remind me of that pretty boy everyone’s been talking about on the forum. “They say you slept with Professor Alva Jackson and stole my direct-entry PhD spot.” I froze. The Alva Jackson he was talking about was the newly hired professor at Adams University, fresh back from overseas. Just as I was about to explain, he cut me off with an innocent look. “Maybe I got the wrong guy. You look way too respectable to be the kind of guy who lives off women. “But Professor Jackson’s nearly fifty. How could you even do it with her?” I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Since when had I become a fifty-year-old woman? Was there another Alva Jackson at Adams University besides me?

My best friend, Cassidy Braun, earned a modest monthly salary of 2,800 dollars, only to constantly trash her doting husband with an annual income of 600,000 dollars, labelling him a broke loser. “That incompetent husband of mine can’t even afford a 20-carat diamond ring! “I have the looks that can bag me a billionaire. I must have been out of my mind to marry that piece of trash.” I chimed in. “You’re right. You’re practically a goddess. Only a Greek God stands a chance with you.” Eventually, Cassidy left her husband and hooked up with a trust-fund kid, just as she wanted. A year later, she was scammed out of every penny she owned and diagnosed with cancer. Fragile and broken, she came to me. “I heard that ex-husband of mine remarried and that he’s loaded now. Judging by the way he used to worship the ground I walked on, I bet he’ll drop the woman in a heartbeat if I ask to get back together.” I gave a dismissive nod while running my fingers along the new Birkin bag my husband had bought. “Oh, absolutely. He’s pretty wealthy now.”

Young Immanuel Gonzales roamed the streets at age seven. His mother died when he was three years old, while his father was accused of killing his co-worker at a construction site. His relatives did not bother to take him but instead, made a vagabond out of him. Hungry and tired, he met a young girl who gave him food to eat. He was grateful and told himself that someday he would show his appreciation for the good deeds done to him. Living alone, he had encountered lots who had hurt him, but he continued to live came one person who had helped him finish his studies and he became a lawyer. One rainy night, he helped a woman who got scared from a homeless person. The first time they met, both felt that there was something that would bind them together which would make or break them apart. He was a lawyer who came from a poor family, handsome and smart, whose father was a victim of injustice....and she, a rich and pretty heiress, who had been engaged to be married to a wealthy person. Both fell into the abyss of deep affection....a love that caused them to be apart...living their lives with regret and loneliness

All Rina has ever wanted to do was do her research and live a peaceful life, switching places and pretending to be her twin sister wasn't on her agenda. It was just for two days, smile, be pretty and deceive her sister's mate and his family. It wasn't supposed to be hard. But the deception is suddenly becoming serious and Rina must decide what she wants to do with her life.

"So you're the famous journalist who goes around snooping out for information from celebrities, huh?" "Y..yes," I managed to utter. Apart from being the man I am going to be interviewing, no one knew he's the reason I've been getting wet dreams almost every night for the past five years. "Who do we have here, brother?" I quickly turned my gaze to the direction of the person who had just spoken, only to be met by three other guys, who looked exactly like the man in front of me. Rumour has it that he lived many lives, and that is exactly what I came to find out, but seeing these three other men looking like another him, I became confused to the point my knee suddenly gave up, instantly. "Hey, hold it in, pretty boy, we won't bite." One of them said, wrapping his arm around my waist just when I was about to fall to the ground. "E.. excuse me, w..who are you?" I asked while staring at all four of them. "You mean, I, or the four of us?" Turstin asked in a deep husky voice. "I think he's confused!" The one holding me said allowed. "Well, we are the Barclay brothers, pretty boy, and my name is Thale," the one holding me said. "Since you want to interview Turstin, we can make you the most famous journalist for free, by letting you interview the four of us," the one standing beside Turstin said. "But that comes with a price, Pretty boy." I took a quick glance at the last one who seemed like he was the youngest of all four. Gael has a secret, and so does the Barclay brothers. What will happen when these secrets find their way out in the open?

Lonely, sex-deprived, and horny could pretty much sum up the lives of Preshy. Preshy desired to be licked in places guys never knew existed. Preshy wanted all of her misery to be sexed away, while Liz was a girl that wanted to have fun. Mike is nothing more than a vivid fantasy that comes equipped when answering the calls of sex – starved, lonesome bodies needing attention.

After leaving a toxic relationship, Amelia has trouble trusting men. She becomes focused, goal driven and ambitious, not giving commitment or attention to any man. She starts her own chocolate pastry business and is doing pretty well. Then Stan, a well known successful Vintner comes along, and is convinced he would be the one to finally claim her. Would her love for chocolate and good wine make him succeed?

After my husband died in a car accident, I worked tirelessly running a small restaurant to raise my son, Henry. Right before Henry's wedding, I won eight million in the lottery. Thrilled, I decided to sell the restaurant and finally enjoy retirement. So, I called to tell Henry about selling the restaurant, his usually polite fiancée turned hostile. "You're not expecting us to support you, are you? We've barely started working!" She even warned Henry, "If you spend any of our money on your mom, the wedding's off!" Henry argued with her but then reassured me, promising, "You've worked hard enough, Mom. I'll take care of you." Feeling pretty good, I planned to give him two million to start a business. The next day, I got a call saying Henry had been in a serious car accident and urgently needed fifty thousand for surgery. I sent the money immediately, but afterward, Henry vanished. Desperate, I braved a storm to find him in his city, only to walk into a wedding at some fancy hotel. There's Henry, giving a toast and calling another woman "Mom." And, oh, sitting beside her? My "dead" husband from ten years ago.

In the fifth year of my marriage to Jordan West, he cheats on me with a blind woman. She's young, pretty, and demure. Jordan scours the best hospitals in the country to treat her eyes. In the end, he fixes his gaze on me and tells me he wants me to donate my corneas to her. "They're just a pair of eyes, Hazel. Please help her. Can you really stand by and watch as she withers away?"