Solo Leveling Ind

Sampai saat ini aku masih menulis. Menulis semua tentangmu di lembar-lembar diary ku yang sudah usang, aku takut... Aku sangat takut... Aku takut ada orang lain membacanya, aku takut mereka akan jatuh cinta padamu, setelah membaca tulisanku. /// Ini adalah sebuah kisah dimana hati merasakan jatuh cinta untuk pertama kali, sebuah kisah cinta pertama yang tidak semua orang akan beruntung untuk memilikinya hingga kita menua dan mati. Perjalanan kita menemukan pasangan hidup memang panjang, namun cinta pertama adalah awal mula kita bisa merasakan bagaimana kita bisa mencintai seseorang dengan tulus, merasakan bahagia walaupun 'dia' si cinta pertama tidak kita bisa miliki.

I was just a student who couldn't afford tuition. For five years, I was also the secret lover of Mafia Don Dante Costello. Publicly, I was his personal art restorer. In private, he spent his nights making me his, holding me close and kissing me breathless. Then his family arranged his engagement. To Isabella Rossi. A princess from a rival family. At their engagement party, Isabella stabbed the back of my hand with a shard of broken glass. He made me apologize. To her. For making a scene. Fighting back tears, I bowed my head to Isabella. When Isabella lost a bet and had to play Russian Roulette—one bullet, six chambers—he made me take her place. My hand shook as I raised the gun to my head. "You saved my life once," I told him. "Now you can have it back." The moment I vanished from his world, the ruthless Mafia Don who had everything under control...completely lost his mind.

"You make it so difficult to keep my hands to myself." He snarled the words in a low husky tone, sending pleasurable sparks down to my core. Finding the words, a response finally comes out of me in a breathless whisper, "I didn't even do anything..." Halting, he takes two quick strides, covering the distance between us, he picks my hand from my side, straightening my fingers, he plasters them against the hardness in his pants. I let out a shocked and impressed gasp. "You only have to exist. This is what happens whenever I see you. But I don't want to rush it... I need you to enjoy it. And I make you this promise right now, once you can handle everything, the moment you are ready, I will fuck you." Director Abed Kersher has habored an unhealthy obsession for A-list actress Rachel Greene, she has been the subject of his fantasies for the longest time. An opportunity by means of her ruined career presents itself to him. This was Rachel's one chance to experience all of her hidden desires, her career had taken a nosedive, there was no way her life could get any worse. Except when mixed with a double contract, secrets, lies, and a dangerous hidden identity.. everything could go wrong.

Silvana adalah seorang mahasiswi akhir yang sedang dipusingkan oleh skripsi. Tapi, ada yang lebih memusingkan baginya yaitu uang untuk biaya wisudanya.Untuk membantu sang ayah dalam mencicil biaya kelulusannya, Silvana berusaha mencari pekerjaan sampingan untuk meringankan beban orang tuanya. Siapa sangka, bayangan mengasuh bocah kecil nan mungil dalam benaknya harus hancur berantakan saat yang diasuhnya adalah seorang bayi besar menyebalkan yang gemar memarahi dan membentaknya. Dia Max Elgort, sang penguasa yang mempunyai kekurangan di bagian mata.Sanggupkah Silvana bertahan saat benih cinta mulai bersemi di saat pria itu masih terpaku pada masa lalu?Lalu, apakah Max akan tetap mempertahankan janjinya pada sang mantan kekasih yang meninggal saat berkendara bersamanya yang juga menyebabkan Max buta?

The sun hit my face through the window as I woke up, and reality crashed in—I lost my virginity to a stranger. My mind spun back to last night, to what I overheard outside the VIP lounge. My boyfriend’s voice, Liam’s laugh, Maya’s mocking tone—burned into me. “I can’t believe she actually thinks you’d date her. Such an ugly duckling thinking she could be a princess,” Maya sneered. And Liam… the man I gave five years of my life to… laughed with her. “When I’m tired of playing, I’ll let you know. I love this game, even if it’s taken so long.” Two years chasing him, five years dating him—just a stupid game. My love was never love to him. One drink. One dizzy stumble back to my hotel room. One man who felt both familiar and like a stranger. And one night that changed everything. Now, I don’t know his face. But I can’t forget the way it felt.

Wrenley moves to Waindale, the place where her mother grew up and where her grandmother still lives. Between the pine trees and above the wet ground, she soon realizes that Waindale is anything but the perfect place she remembers it as. Dark things stalk the woods. Dark things are pulling her in. "I turn on the lamp that's sat on top of my dresser. The pink lampshade makes my room glow with a feminine warmth, and it shines through the glass of my window; a signal so he can find his way home. It's dark out there, so bone-chillingly dark that I nearly fear for him before realizing that he is the greatest danger in those woods."

This story is not a typical love story. It contains situations that young people often experience such as being awakened to reality, being overwhelmed with loneliness and being inlove. Meet Kanna, a highschool girl who chooses to distance herself from other people. She can be described as the typical weeb girl who prefer to be friends with fictional characters and spend her day infront of her computer. What if in the middle of her boring journey,she meets a man who awakens her spirit and curiosity? Let’s take a look at the love story of two personalities who met on an unexpected platform and wrong settings.

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.

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."

Nicole Evans never asked to be followed. She never asked for eyes in the dark, for a man like Vane to orbit her life with silence and devotion sharp enough to wound. But obsession doesn’t ask permission. It waits. It watches. It becomes inevitable. What began with missing men and shadows on rooftops soon unraveled into something far more intimate—an assassin who couldn’t let go, and a woman who, piece by piece, stopped trying to make him. As friends vanished and her world narrowed, Nicole found herself drawn toward the very thing she feared most—not out of love, but recognition. In his violence, there was something terrifyingly tender. In his silence, something that listened more closely than anyone else ever had. Theirs is not a love story in any ordinary sense. It’s a descent—a long, slow collapse into dependency, into surrender. A story told in bruises and shared tea, in blood and in stillness. A quiet unraveling that doesn’t end in escape, but in a house by the sea, where memory lingers and echoes never fade. Some stories don’t ask to be understood. Only remembered.