Spongebob And Patrick Painting Novels & Stories

It's hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it.... "Why are you making it so difficult?" I screeched on top of my lungs. God, why does he have to make everything so difficult? "I'm your boss and you're responsible to follow my orders. You have no authority to defy me." He snarled, his hands balled into fists. "Are you even listening to your baseless blabbering?" "Shut the up!" He roared with pure antagonism and fisted his hand on the glass painting that hung by the wall. I gasped at the sight of glasses shattered into tiny pieces, droplets of blood oozing down his knuckles. His jaw was clenched as he shot daggers to my eyes, not because of the pain that was inflicted from the quick punch, but the remembrance of my betrayal. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Mystery. Romance. Deception. It's a famous saying that, hate is a strong emotion- so is love. You can only hate someone you place in high esteem since you care about what they think. Just when Evelyn Williams thought she could bring some light into her miserable life, destiny played its cruel game again, bringing her back to the place where she started. Five years later, she is forced to work with one and only Xavier Blake Knight, the one who remembers how Evelyn Williams has broken his heart. After what she did to him, would she be able to look into his eyes? Unbearable secrets will be revealed with a mixture of irresistible desires. Desires that Evelyn fears would only deepen her wounds, but somehow heal Xavier's.

Sloan Vale isn’t just a billionaire—he’s a king in a world built on whispered names, silk-bound power, and decadent sin. By day, he’s untouchable. Polished. Controlled. But by night, he rules The Crimson Order, a secret society where the elite indulge their darkest desires and make deals sealed with blood and pleasure. He’s never had a reason to break his own rules. Until her. Ivy Sinclair is a broke, brilliant art student just trying to survive. When she delivers a painting to an exclusive event, she stumbles into a hidden world she was never meant to see. Sloan’s world. The moment he lays eyes on her, he knows she doesn’t belong. Too innocent. Too pure. Too tempting. She should have run. He should have let her. But instead, he offers her a choice: walk away and forget what she saw… or surrender to him and learn just how deep the rabbit hole goes. Ivy agrees but she’s not as innocent as she seems. As Sloan draws her deeper into his dangerous orbit, he finds himself addicted to her softness, her fire, her secrets. She awakens something in him that’s been dormant far too long. Obsession. Protection. Lust. But Ivy didn’t stumble into his world by accident. She’s running from something darker. Something deadly. And when her past collides with his empire, both of them will have to decide what’s worth more: power or passion. Vengeance or love. In a world where everything comes with a price… will she be his salvation, or his ultimate ruin?

My adoptive brother, Don Cassian. I loved him. The rival family drugged him. He had me pinned down. His hands on my breasts. He was hard, his eyes filled with a desperate hunger for me. But I shoved him off. Ran out the door. And called my best friend, Camilla. "Cassian's in the master bedroom. Get here. Now." I locked myself in the bathroom, letting the cold water wash away the fire he’d started in me. I remembered the last time. In my past life, when Cassian kissed me, I didn't say no. We made love all night. I thought my ten-year crush was finally mine. Then came St. Patrick's Cathedral. The Vitelli family's sapphire ring, passed down for three generations. The blessing of the Elders. I had everything I ever wanted. But the day after the wedding, I got the news. My best friend, Camilla, was dead. An overdose of antidepressants in her apartment. I was on the phone, crying for her, when a knife went through my chest from behind. I turned. It was Cassian, his face twisted with hate. "If you hadn't blackmailed me with those ledgers—if you hadn't forced your way into my bed—Camilla would still be alive. You have to pay for this!" That's when I understood. He never married me for love. It was all because of a whisper from Camilla: "Aurora controls the family's money. She can ruin you with a phone call." And a warning from the Elders: "Don, you must marry her. She knows too much." So this time, I stepped aside. I let them have each other. But why? Why did he come after me, his eyes red, looking like he'd lost his mind? "Aurora," he begged. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

At the entrance of Marriott International, Kellan walked out of the revolving door in a white suit. The wind lifted a corner of his shirt, revealing the cufflinks of his custom-made shirt. This time it was a diamond-studded Suzaku, exactly the same as the one in the presidential suite five years ago. Eva's breath missed a beat until Rosie suddenly screamed, "Dad, you're so handsome!" The carriage froze instantly. Kellan raised his eyebrows and looked at the passenger seat. The little girl was clinging to the seat, her eyes shining like stars: "You look like the prince in my painting!" She had just drawn an "ideal dad" in kindergarten yesterday. In the crooked lines, there was a tall man wearing a neat suit, his cuffs gleaming. Eva's face flushed red, and she hurriedly explained, "The child is just talking nonsense..." But when she looked up, she met Kellan's eyes—he was staring at Rosie, and his dark eyes were filled with tenderness that he himself didn't even notice. This man who made the whole business world tremble, at this moment, raised the corner of his lips towards the child, although it was only a very shallow arc, but it made the temperature in the car rise quietly. When the car arrived at the destination, Kellan suddenly said before getting off the car: "Your daughter is very cute." *** Imagine your child calling a stranger “Daddy”… and neither of you realize he’s actually her real father — the man who got you pregnant years ago before fate tore you apart deciding you won't see his face or know him. Now he’s standing right in front of you, powerful, untouchable, and staring at your daughter with a tenderness he can’t explain....

"How can I marry a man I do not know?" "Your father is the one who decides what can happen." "Why do I have to marry him?" "Your father wants to do business with him, and it is so much that it would take us from top twenty to top ten." Nirelle’s fate is sealed. After a life of endless scrubbing, suffering, and silence, her father decides her worth lies in securing a business deal. A deal so massive, it promises to thrust their family into elite status—at the cost of her freedom. Married off to a man cloaked in more secrets than the night sky, Nirelle wants to run. But there's nowhere to go. With every ounce of strength she has left, she chooses to shift prisons—from her father’s oppressive home to her new husband’s mansion. Lucien Vexley is nothing like she expected. The name alone strikes fear on the streets, the rumours painting him as a shadowy, ruthless enigma. Yet the man sitting across from her at the dining table, caring for her in ways she’s never known, is nothing like the beast they described. Lucien is a mystery she can’t seem to solve, and worse, he is her father's enemy. "You are handsome?" "It seems you were expecting me to be a beast?" "Well, according to the rumours," "Am I not here as a scapegoat for something?" Nirelle doesn’t understand the warmth beginning to stir in her chest, the way her stomach flutters when he's near. But something is changing. Something deep. Something dangerous. And she can't help it when she wants to join hands with him to take her father down. Sold to My Father's Enemy is a revenge tale that would keep you at the edge of your seats.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

The night before the wedding, I'm about to share the news of my pregnancy with Chester Miller when I see Giselle Thorne sitting in his lap intimately. I'm about to storm in and confront them when I notice a man standing beside them. That man looks exactly like Chester, my boyfriend. I freeze, holding my breath as their voices carry clearly through the room. "Chester, this is ruthless. You actually proposed to her. From what I know, Miranda poured so much effort into this wedding," Giselle says. Chester snorts. "Giselle, she ruins your work and costs you the chance to win. I can't wait to see her, all dressed in her wedding gown and beaming with joy, only to watch me walk down the aisle holding your hand. Just thinking about it gives me a thrill." My eyes widen. It's clearly Giselle who has threatened me to hand over my work, and when she fails, she tears up her own painting in fear of losing the competition. Before I can react, the man who looks like Chester suddenly speaks. "Chester, who's walking down the aisle with her—you or me?" Chester chuckles. "Of course I am. Felix, have you forgotten? Miranda belongs to you only at night." In that instant, I finally understand why Chester Miller is cold by day and passionate by night. It turns out they aren't the same person at all. He and Felix are twin brothers. I clutch the pregnancy report tightly, pressing it against the doorframe as I glare at the three of them through the crack. "I won't let any of you get what you want," I vow silently.

⚠️ WARNING: THIS IS NOT A SYNOPSIS. IT’S A HINT SPOILER. ⚠️ This is the Story of FOUR HUGE MEN. (And let’s be clear—this is NOT a Reverse Harem.) These guys aren't heroes. They are roles played on four shattered women who didn't see them coming. FIRST UP: STEVE HAYES. The Gym Guy. He didn’t just meet Freya—he claimed her. Owned her. And her daughter? Yeah, they’re his now too. Honestly, you’re going to end up pitying Freya’s ex… because Steve is a literal beast. THINK STEVE IS INTENSE? MEET DIESEL. The Biker. Diesel usually hates shedding blood, he’s got rules. But when it comes to Daisy? Forget the rules. He won't even think twice before painting the pavement red for her. THEN THERE'S NICO. Seriously, Nico is… just come and meet him. He’s a Tattoo Artist, and Phina only went to his studio for one thing: to erase her loser ex’s name from her hand. Guess what Nico told her while he had that needle to her skin? “You can erase him from your hand, but what about your heart? You don't need a cover-up, Phina. You need a real man to make you forget he ever touched you.” She slapped him across the face for that. Hard. GUESS WHO IS SWEATING ON NICO’S BED NOW ASKING FOR IT HARDER? AND FINALLY… LUCA. I’m not even going to say much. Just. Meet. Him. 4 MEN. 4 SHATTERED WOMEN. THEY WERE ALL TEMPTED TO RUIN. COME MEET THEM ALL AND DROP WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT EACH! AS YOU ARE ABOUT TO OPEN EACH CHAPTER, TELL ME WHO YOU CAN’T WAIT TO MEET. (I already picked my dream guy, actually... let's see if you pick the same one.)

During the two months that I was away for a competition, my neighbors insulted me in the neighborhood’s common group chat. [The girl living on the ninth floor, you look like a decent girl. Why are you bringing so many men back home every day?] [Can you moan a little softer? I don’t care if you’re a sex worker, but if you keep making loud noises until midnight, don’t blame me for calling the police!] [Don’t call the police yet. I haven’t had my turn. How much are you charging, Charlene?] My heart sank. Before I left for my competition, I had asked my boyfriend, Jacob Smith, to take care of my luxury river-view apartment. That way, he could keep an eye on my expensive paintings. What was happening? I rushed home in confusion, but when I opened the door, I was further dumbfounded. My 3,000-square-foot apartment had been partitioned into 30 rooms. Meanwhile, Jacob’s childhood friend, Prissy Black, was holding a string of keys as she collected rent money. When they saw me, everyone started laughing. “What? Are you here to rent from Prissy after learning that she’s providing cheap rooms in such a pristine location? “Too bad everyone knows that you’re eyeing her boyfriend. You won’t be able to benefit from doing such a thing!” I was extremely furious as I approached Jacob to talk about it. However, he told me that it was Prissy’s dream to be a landlady. He asked me not to pay it any mind and to treat it as doing a good deed. “You’re rich anyway. Don’t be so calculative. Everyone’s happy now, so what’s wrong with that?” The keys tinkled in Prissy’s hand as if they were taunting me. “This house doesn’t welcome stray animals like you. You have yourself to blame for not having such a nice boyfriend.” The two of them acted all lovey-dovey in front of me, and I immediately called the police. “Someone’s trespassing on my property, and my painting that’s worth 15 million dollars has gone missing. What type of punishment would this entail?”