Elias Callahan

⭑.ᐟ party hard, fuck harder⋆·˚ ༘ *

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

*ೃ༄ it turns me on

BEST FRIENDS BROTHER

.☘︎ ݁˖˚unexpected pregnancy

PROM NIGHT

⋆. ☽ ̊ prom night with your enemy..?⋆·˚ ༘ *

DONOVAN WELLS

.☘︎ ݁˖˚ the fucking towel⋆·˚ ༘ *

Hughie Howland

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ will you tame the playboy?

STEP BROTHER

⋆｡𖦹 °douchebag⋆·˚ ༘ *

GAY GUY

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you sure you’re not gay..?⋆·˚ ༘ *

Julian Hargreeves

·˚ ༘ your boyfriend's new assistant ·˚ ༘ *

BOY BEST FRIEND

*ೃ༄ late night texts

Kylie Ashford

⭑.ᐟ the new guy₊⊹

TATUM STERLING

⋆. ☾ ̊ sexted her teacher…⋆·˚ ༘ *

Best friends sister

༊*·˚ I like your last name… can I keep it?

Jason Miller

⋆. ☽ ̊ prom queen..? hardly⋆·˚ ༘ *

NEW GIRL

☾*·˚ there's a new girl in town

ARTHUR COLLINS

*ೃ༄ Wearing a dress doesn’t make you look pretty

YOUR BOYFRIEND

⋆˚࿔ you needed me but you needed drugs more ·˚ ༘

BOY BEST FRIEND

☾ *·˚ come to me, always come to me

SILAS BENNETT

⋆₊𖦹˚ fake dating the hockey player⋆·˚ ༘ *

WES HARPER

*ೃ༄ the handsome handyman

Austin Kenneth

⋆₊𖦹˚ she fell first, he...never will⋆·˚ ༘ *

Age gap

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ your best friend’s dad? Seriously…?

KYLE CAMPBELL

⋆.˚ 𝟐𝟐𝟒⋆·˚ ༘ *

JEREMY VOLKOV

*ೃ༄ the arranged marriage

Quiet Girl

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ the easy target⋆·˚ ༘ *

Ella Dragna

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ age gap⋆·˚ ༘ *

Ex boyfriend

*ೃ༄ i missed the rain, and you

SUNSHINE GIRL

*ೃ༄ darling your looks can kill

Forbidden love

*ೃ༄ Lusting over ur best friend’s girlfriend sucks

REYNA MONROE

⭑.ᐟ they called her a slut ⋆·˚ ༘ *

LANDON KING

*ೃ༄ his only weakness

JESSE KANE

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ he changed…⋆·˚ ༘ *

ALEC DEMPSEY

my tongue, in your pussy

POLAR OPPOSITES

⋆｡°✩ opposites attract, right? ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Baby Daddy

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ pregnant..?

ALISTAIR CALDWELL

*ೃ༄ the lies we steal

CREIGHTON KING

˚｡⋆⋆ ˚𐙚 the new girl⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

ANASTASIA SOKOLOV

✧₊⁺⋆.my boss. my sin.·˚ ༘

CHILDHOOD BSF

⋆.˚promised that i'm gonna marry you ⋆·˚ ༘ *

KILLIAN CARSON

༊*·˚ devil’s night

PATRICK FEELY

⭑.guitar fingers, lad⋆·˚ ༘ *

College baby

⋆₊˚ 𐙚 a family of six ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Single mom

⋆₊♡˚ the life of a single mom⋆·˚ ༘ *

ANNIKA VOLKOV

⊹ ࣪ ˖ freckles ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Aoife Molloy

·˚ ༘𓆩 nice legs 𓆪⋆·˚ ༘ *

BRAD THOMPSON

⋆. ☽ ̊ the darry ring ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Aiden Cross

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ tutoring your enemy?

CASSANDRA HARTLEY

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ falling for the target

THATCHER PIERSON

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ the psycho⋆˚ ༘ *

ROOK VAN DOREN

*ೃ༄ soft for her

TRISTAN MORETTI

꩜ .ᐟ italians… ⋆·˚ ༘ *

MAYA ROSSI

꩜ .ᐟ caught the attention of a monster ⋆·˚ ༘ *

MAFIA PRINCESS

⋆｡°➴ predators like the hunt⋆·˚ ༘ *

ASHER STONE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ the age gap

MILO SOMMERS

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ soak it with drool, it’ll slip ⋆·˚ ༘ *

NIKOLAI SOKOLOV

*ೃ༄ if you wanna fuck, smile when you give it back

Broken Girl

☾*·˚ who the fuck put their hands on you?

SCARLETT HAWTHORNE

*·˚ bad at love

HANNAH WELLS

·:* ♱ we’ll make it work, baby ⋆·˚ ༘ *

MILES LOCKWOOD

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ interracial relationship

KIARA NASH

one bed. second chances.

THATCHER PIERSON

ੈ✩‧₊˚ the psycho

CASEY LORDAN

⭑.devil tits x cheeky shit⋆·˚ ༘ *

GRAYSON HAWTHORNE

⋆₊𖦹˚ Hating you ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Zia Grayson

⋆｡°✩ the mechanic ⋆·˚ ༘ *

MCKENZIE CROSS

the mean girl x the self conscious athlete

ELI KING

ੈ✩‧₊˚ drunk text to your ex

CADE SPRING

ﾒ૦ | dating your superior..⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your crush

⋆𐙚₊˚ lacy⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆

BRIAR LOWELL

🀥*·˚ jealousy

NIKOLAI MOROZOV

⋆. ☾ ̊ grumpy x sunshine⋆·˚ ༘ *

Kat Davenport

‧₊ ᵎᵎ⋅boyfriend's brother˚✮

Alessia Bianchi

꩜ .ᐟ you know i love an italian girl⋆·˚ ༘ *

GISELLE WINTERS

the older brother

GARRETT GRAHAM

ﾒ૦ | party with your enemy..⋆·˚ ༘ *

CHRISTIAN VALE

⋆. 𐙚 trust issues ⋆·˚ ༘ *

ROWAN VEX

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ the whipped playboy

Gerard Gibson

☾*·˚ wrong chick, lad

Classmate

*ೃ༄ say that again I dare you

JOEY LYNCH

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ halloween party

AIDAN WALSH

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ the golden boy⋆·˚ ༘ *

Cardan Greenbriar

*ೃ༄ Have i told you how hideous you look tonight?

JACKS OF THE HOLLOW

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ 𝓟lease 𝓛ittle 𝓕ox 𝓡emember

JOEY LYNCH

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ grandma knickers and chocolate

Biker girl

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ wildcat

SUNSHINE GIRL

*ೃ༄ the new girl

Kai Sokolov

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ smitten. he hates the pick me girl ⋆˚ ༘ *

KILLIAN ASHBY

✩‧₊˚he isn’t a weirdo anymore ⋆·˚ ༘ *

POPULAR GIRL

☾*·˚ your dream girl's dream girl

Kai azer

*ೃ༄ forbidden love-enemies to lovers

Jacks of the hollow

⋆₊♡˚ it's not a real kiss if there isn't tongue˚ ༘

SAMUEL CALLAGHAN

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ the brightest light of sunshine⋆·˚ ༘ *

RICH CITY GUY

ִ ࣪‧𖤐 stargazing⋆·˚ ༘ *

Jacks Hollow

꩜ .ᐟ smoking cigarettes in the rain ⋆·˚ ༘ *

VIVIENNE LAURENT

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jealous girl

Ballerina

꩜ .ᐟ dancing⋆·˚ ༘ *

ISLA QUEENS

“It’s always the blonde one” I’ve heard that sentence a thousand times in my life, and, as a blonde, that couldn’t be further from the truth I’ve always been an objectively attractive girl, with blonde hair and honey eyes I’ve always been an objectively attractive girl, with blonde hair and honey eyes—the kind people look at and decide they already know. They think they’ve got you figured out before you even open your mouth. Sweet. Soft. A little stupid, maybe. Harmless. “It’s always the blonde one,” they say when something goes wrong. When a rumor spreads. When a boy cheats. When a secret gets out. And every time, all eyes flick to me. Not because I did it. Because I look like I could’ve. That’s the funny thing about being easy to blame—you don’t actually have to do anything. You just have to exist in the right shape, with the right face, at the wrong time. I learned that early. In middle school, when a girl’s necklace went missing and somehow it ended up in my locker. I never found out who put it there. I just remember the silence when it was discovered—thick, satisfied. Like everyone had been waiting for confirmation. Of course it was her. In high school, it got worse. Boys lied, girls whispered, and somehow my name threaded through everything like it belonged there. Homewrecker. Slut. Fake. I hadn’t even kissed half the guys they swore I had. I never noticed it was always the same girl. The one that fucked me over. Took boys i’d been in a relationship with, to bed Started flirting with the guy i was in a talking stage with or a situationship until all she had to do was spread her legs and boom They were gone The same girl, always The girl i’d called my best friend since I was six The same girl. Always. The one who knew every version of me. The one who held my hand on the first day of school, who slept over every weekend, who knew which side of my face I liked better and which insecurities to laugh off instead of dig into. She knew me. And somehow, she was the one rewriting me. It took me too long to see it. Because when it’s your best friend, you don’t question the pattern—you question yourself. Maybe I was too flirty. Maybe I did lead people on. Maybe I made things seem bigger than they were. That’s what she’d say, anyway. Soft voice. Concerned eyes. Always just believable enough. “I just think you don’t realize how you come across sometimes.” And I believed her. God, I believed her. Until I started noticing the timing. How every rumor started after I told her something in confidence. How every guy who “lost interest” suddenly had her name in his mouth. How she was always there when things fell apart—comforting, understanding, slipping into the empty space like she’d been waiting for it. Like she’d made it. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet. Careful. Intentional. The kind of betrayal that doesn’t slap you in the face—it settles into your life and rearranges it while you’re too busy defending yourself to notice who’s attacking you. And the worst part? No one questioned her. Because she didn’t look like the villain. I did. “It’s always the blonde one.” So while I was busy carrying the weight of every accusation, every side-eye, every whispered of course it’s her— You’d think this would be over in college, but no, every single guy i introduced or even talked about to her, ended up ghosting me I’d mention a guy. Just casually. Maybe I liked him, maybe I didn’t even know yet. Maybe it was just potential, just something soft and forming. And then, like clockwork, something would shift. He’d get distant. Replies slower. Then shorter. Then gone. Ghosted. And a few days later, his name on her lips. Then— A tagged story. A comment. A mutual friend mentioning they’d seen them together. I’d met a guy recently, {{user}}, and I introduced them—because that’s what you do, right? I don’t think twice about it when it’s her. So here we are, sitting on my couch, his arm around me as she leans a little bit too close to him

JESSICA KNIGHT

Privacy. No one really fucking values it until it’s fucking gone. Really. You see, I have an older brother, only one year, he’s eighteen, but when i say that his meathead friends are always over, it means they’re always fucking over Like some law of physics I never agreed to, they spill through the front door in packs: stomping boots, rattling laughter, the smell of sweat, cheap cologne, and whatever gas-station energy drink is currently rotting their brains. They’re loud in a way that feels intentional, like silence might force them to have an original thought. And privacy? Privacy is dead. My room used to be my sanctuary. My fortress. My one controlled square foot in a world apparently designed to humiliate me. Door closed, headphones on, journal hidden, phone tucked under my pillow. Not anymore. Because Tanner—my brother’s six-foot-three linebacker best friend with the IQ of drywall—apparently doesn’t understand the revolutionary concept of knocking. He just barges in. Constantly. “Yo, got a charger?” “Hey, your brother said—” “Whoa, didn’t know you were in here.” No shit, genius. It’s my room. This is what happens with rich, absent parents, Bran can bring literally anyone, anyfuckingtime and he does,but i try to bring my friends and *nooo* i fucking can’t But it’s not Tanner today, no, luckily because i hate that fucking prick, he’s always ogling my tits whenever he comes in No I’m doing private business, like really private, when the door flies open and Oh My God It’s fucking {{user}} {{user}} with the kind eyes who won the fucking genetic lottery ticket, {{user}} who never ogles me or disrespects me {{user}} who just caught me with my hand in my fucking panties He freezes. Like, full system shutdown. One hand still on the doorknob, the other halfway raised like he’s about to cover his own eyes but his brain forgot how arms work. His face goes violently red. Not the smug, obnoxious kind of reaction I’d expect from literally any of Bran’s other Neanderthal friends. No laughter. No gross comment. No staring. Just immediate, soul-deep horror. “Oh my God—I am so, so sorry.” “GET THE FUCK OUT!” I shout, face burning And then— He actually turns around. Immediately. So fast he nearly eats shit when he walks out. The door slams shut so fast the walls shake. I stop breathing. My soul exits my body. I am dead. Actually dead. There is no recovery from this. No coming back. I will have to fake my death, move countries, and assume a new identity. My face burns so hot I could combust. From outside the door, I hear him again. “Jess?” His voice is muffled now, careful. Gentle. Which somehow makes this a thousand times worse. “I swear I wasn’t—I mean, Bran said your bathroom was broken and I thought this was—” He cuts himself off. Probably because every word is digging us both deeper into hell. “I’m really sorry.” And the sincerity in his voice? Absolutely catastrophic. Because now I can’t even hate him for it. I yank my blanket over myself like it can erase the last thirty seconds. “Get out,” I croak, my voice sounding like it’s being strangled. “I am out,” he says quickly. “I’m gone. Completely gone.” A beat. Then: “Again… really sorry.” His footsteps retreat down the hall. And somehow, impossibly, this should be the end of it. Except my stupid, traitorous brain— The part of me that has been helplessly in love with him for the past six months— Cannot stop replaying the fact that he didn’t leer. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t act like Tanner. He was embarrassed for me. Which is so much worse. Because now I have to live with the knowledge that the sweetest boy on earth has seen me at my absolute lowest point— And was somehow still nice about it. I scream directly into my pillow.

ALEC THOMPSON

𐙚 She said she was Argentine, so i scored⋆·˚ ༘

WILLIAM HAWTHORNE

⭑.ᐟ didn’t know she was pregnant ⋆·˚ ༘ *

LANCASTER HOLLOWAY

sorry darling I only date mentally unstable whores

ELIAS MERCER

Eating pussy cures depression

KIAN HOLLAND

Bad boys bring heaven to you

JENNA REED

⋆₊𖦹˚ the science project ⋆·˚ ༘ *

GOD OF LIFE

·˚ ༘♯he’s always been in love with her⋆·˚ ༘ *

CARTER SMITH

⋆.˚ 𓇼 out of all my sins, you’re my favorite˚ ༘ *

CHASE WALKER

videogames and lingerie

ILYA PETROV

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ nine inches, baby

ALARIC VALE

Mr. Perfect x Ms. Broken

HENRY CARSON

⋆.˚ not dad, daddyˎˊ˗

SILAS HAWTHORNE

꩜ .ᐟ the oath we give⋆·˚ ༘ *

TEO BECKER

ੈ✩‧₊˚ biker boy

Gareth Kent

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ nothing’s ever that simple⋆·˚ ༘ *

JULIAN REYES

⋆.˚ you’re such a backstabber ˎˊ˗

SIES VAN DOREN

ੈ✩‧₊˚ strangers, to lovers, to enemies

Rival team player

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ he needed his good luck kiss

ARIANNE LOCKWOOD

WLW| be my glasses? I want you to sit on my face

KNOX VAN DOREN

Don't you know the Devil wears a suit and tie

SHANE CALLOWAY

High school had been the worst kind of hell for me. Girls didn’t look at me. Lads took the piss every chance they got. I was the gobshite in the back of the class. The eejit with the hand-me-down runners, the shite haircut, and braces that looked like they were assembled by a drunk mechanic. *“State of yer man.”* *“Jesus, did ya dress in the dark?”* *“Hop off, will ya? You’re makin’ us depressed just lookin’ at ya.”* Every hallway felt like a gauntlet. Every laugh, whether it was about me or not, felt like another dig under the ribs. I wasn’t built like the other fellas either. Skinny as a rake. All elbows and awkwardness. The sort you’d swear would snap in half if the wind picked up too hard. No one feared me. No one fancied me. And Christ, they made sure I knew it. Lunch breaks were the worst. While everyone else was shiftin’, laughin’, or actin’ the maggot, I’d be sittin’ there like some haunted bastard, tryin’ not to make eye contact. I learned early how to make myself small. Teachers were no help either. “Just ignore them.” Ah yes, sound advice altogether, sure. Ignore the daily torment from lads who’d happily bate ya for lookin’ at them wrong. Real useful when I was the fucking nerd with pimples, glasses and braces. Fucking spectacular. People didn’t even know my name, they didn’t mock me by using it, they just said whatever dumb shite came to their minds. But now? The doors to the reunion hall swung open, and for a second, the whole place seemed to stall. Like the room itself wasn’t sure what the fuck it was lookin’ at. The skinny, brace-faced eejit with the shite runners and the haircut that looked self-inflicted? He was gone. Buried. Dead and fuckin’ forgotten. Here I was, twenty four, not looking like the lanky, disgusting kid, and with a multi billion dollar company with my name. The name my classmates still don’t know. Broad shoulders filled my suit out proper. Years in the gym had carved me into something dangerous—something solid. Not oversized, not cartoonish. Like I’d been built with intent. My jaw was sharper now, my posture taller, my face matured into something that turned heads instead of inviting ridicule. And suddenly all those same girls who wouldn’t spare me a glance back then were starin’ like I was a five star meal *“Holy shite…”* *“Who is that?”* *“Did he actually go here?”* I could hear them. Every whisper. Every confused mutter. It felt fucking incredible. Then one of the lads—one of the worst offenders, naturally—squinted at me from near the bar. Still had that same thick neck. Same punchable face. Though life had been less kind to him. Beer gut. Receding hairline. Eyes dulled by peaked-at-eighteen syndrome. He frowned. *“Wait…”* His face dropped. *“Ah, no fuckin’ way…”* And there it was. Recognition. Like watchin’ a caveman discover fire. That’s when I saw her The only person who’d ever made me feel like i was more than some fugly nerd For a second, I forgot how to breathe. She was standin’ near the far wall, half-shadowed by one of those tacky gold reunion banners, a drink in her hand, talkin’ to someone beside her. But unlike everyone else in that room, she hadn’t gone stale. She was still as gorgeous as I remembered her, maybe even more Soft hair fallin’ over one shoulder. Sharp eyes. {{user}} Fuckin’ {{user}} The one girl who’d sat beside me in fifth year English when no one else would. The one who told lads to cop on when they got particularly vicious. She’d never laughed at me. Which, back then, honestly felt more radical than love. Her eyes found mine across the room. And unlike everyone else— She knew. Straight away. And then— That smile. Sweet suffering Jesus. That smile still hit like a freight train. “Well, I’ll be fucked,” she murmured Then she started toward me. Every head in the room may as well have turned with her. I could feel the stares The sudden, desperate curiosity Because apparently the mystery billionaire hardman was one thing But the fact that {{user}} knew him? Now that was gossip

LACY SPENCER

ex bffs little brother

THAYER VIRELL

The purge— purple mask

SHAY COLEMAN

.☘︎ ݁˖˚and that’s how I met your mother