Sasuke Sakura Lemon Fanfiction 소설 & 이야기

René Huang is a French-Chinese Painter who lives in France. He lives alone there when his parents are living in China. He is famous, rich, and handsome. Everything in his life was perfect until finally, unexpected events started happening in his life. He painted some paintings in his sleep, and there was a secret behind them. He wanted to find out the secret, and when he became a guest lecturer in an art university, he met a student who was related to the paintings. Their relationship was not good at first, but when they were investigating the paintings together, the romance started blooming. Note: This novel is inspired by my fanfiction that was posted on another platform. The idea and the

Blurb “Admit it, you want me,” Frank said, staring deep into my eyes like I was the best thing he had ever seen. “I…don't.” “Real believable glasses.” He murmured, inching closer and closer. “Stop me if you truly believe your body isn't aching for me like mine is.” And then he claimed my lips in a searing hot kiss that left my body aching for him and my pussy dripping. Mimi Salvador has one rule: keep her fantasies on paper. The awkward, book-smart college writer has spent years hiding behind her laptop, secretly crafting spicy fanfiction about her stepbrother, Danny, the campus hockey golden boy. But when a mix-up at his game hands her smutty manuscript to his arrogant rival, Frank San

Life seemed to have an affinity for handing Myla lemons: a messed-up sleep cycle, birth parents she never knew, jealous witches, and the torment of being bullied by the strongest Alpha in the Moon Stone pack. These challenges were all lemons. A string of unfortunate events leads her to live with the most powerful Alpha: a roguish Adonis who would stop at nothing to ensure she stays by his side, even if it means hunting her across New York City. Now, she is caught between two vicious alphas: her moon-chosen mate and the man who would spill blood to keep her safe. Life didn’t get the memo; this isn’t just a lemon—it’s a scented grenade.

Bradley Oliver Jones was eight years old when he first heard "Phantom of the Opera" in New York.The lights gleaming across the stage, the voices of the performers ringing through the theater in a way that brought tears to the eyes of those listening. A wonderful canvas of brilliance painted bright by the dull colors of the world.The performance brought something wonderful to Bradley Oliver Jones.The theatre brought magic, brought light, brought hope into the mind of a little eight year old kid.A kid now dead set on being on that stage.And suddenly, the world was on fire, and everything was possible.

“WAKE UP, DANIELA!” The death warning, yet rather a call that Daniela dreamed about after walking up in the series of chances, greed, sacrifices, and the seven deadly sins, and from an inevitable chance to turn back into time and run into the loop of space and dimension. To her life that was surrounded with lies, blessed fate, but curse destiny she is entwined to save the person who is long dead from the present that she never had in the first place. Now being stunned by the life she never dreams of having, she runs toward the series of miseries behind the hidden books of the reincarnated blood she bares. “Death reincarnated, that is your world and your boo

During a game of Truth or Dare, my boyfriend lost and had to buy drinks for everyone. Half an hour later, he returned loaded with bags, grinning as he handed them out. "Jake, you've been up for two days. Here's your iced Americano. Lula, you like the mango passionfruit with extra tapioca, right? And your lemon juice, no ice. You've had it like 800 times." He went around the circle until everyone had a cup. But when he reached me, the bag was empty. The room froze. "Where is Harper's drink?" Todd Rossi pushed his cup toward me. "I forgot, but she can just share mine." His friends groaned. "Come on, every single time? If you're gonna rub it in our faces, at least switch up the moves." Th

“FRIEND? CAN WE JUST LEAVE IT OPEN FOR NOW?” The nightmare rather than a reality Sky wakes up into upon realizing that he’s in the clutches of the hunk and handsome stranger, Worst he ended up having a one-night stand with him. Running in the series of unfortunate event he calls it all in the span of days of his supposed to be grand vacation. His played destiny only got him deep in a nightmare upon knowing that the president of the student body, head hazer and the previous Sun of the Prestigious University of Royal Knights is none other than the brand perfect Prince and top student in his year, Clay. Entwining his life in the most twisted way as Clay’s aggressiveness, yet not always push

They say when life throws you a lemon, you should turn it to a lemonade, even though some things weren't just intentional. “For the next three years, you will work under my son, Anthony. You will obey him unconditionally and assist him in developing the first humanoid robots. It’s all stated in the contract.” Melissa, a brilliant first-class robotics engineer, signs a binding contract to save her only sister who urgently needs surgery. Not only must she work for Anthony—the arrogant CEO of the Morgan Group—but she must also marry him. Throughout the contract, Anthony treats her like a lowlife, belittling her at every opportunity and even stealing credit for her achievements, convinced

During a game of Truth or Dare at a gathering with friends, my girlfriend, Bridget Ellison, loses. Her punishment is to buy coffee for everyone. Half an hour later, she returns carrying more than a dozen bags and starts handing out drinks with a smile. "Francis, you've been pulling all-nighters for two days straight. Here's your iced long black." "Daryl, you like java chip frappe with extra mocha sauce, right?" "And here's yours. Lemon black tea, no ice. You've ordered it hundreds of times." One by one, everyone gets their drink. By the time she reaches me, only an empty bag remains. Everyone at the table freezes. "Where's Aiden's drink?" She pushes her peach frappe toward me and say

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minute