Here she is. I can see the slope of her spine through that thin shirt. She's made of angles I ache to smooth with a hand, but I'd use my lips if she asked. I brush her knuckles with mine. Her skin is cold, but she flips her palm for more contact. I lace our fingers. It's enough to make her look at me. As those kaleidoscopic eyes meet mine, I hold my breath. Then she sets her lips just under my jaw. It rips the air from my lungs. It's the softest thing I've ever felt. "What was that for," I breathe. She pulls back, lashes damp, and whispers, "You're the kind of person that should be kissed." 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 BOOK TWO C O N T A I N S : ❤︎ mature content ❤︎ romance & friendship ❤︎ yearning Copyright © 2021-present Laurel Montaze (immoralLaurel). This body of work (story, characters, ideas) is available exclusively on Wattpad. If you're viewing it on a different website/platform or under a different username, it has been illegally stolen. Please notify the original author. © All Rights Reserved

Boy meets boy. Boy mocks boy. Boy falls (a little too hard). Dior Max is all sharp edges and smoother fabrics-stylish, strategic, and emotionally unbothered. Or so he pretends. Brix Julian is a walking headache with a guitar: smug, loud, and alarmingly good at sending the wrong message. They argue. They prank. They lock eyes for too long in crowded hallways. It's not flirting-it's war. Obviously. But somewhere between the teasing and tension, Dior starts collecting hope-one red paper heart at a time. Every mixed signal? Folded. Stored. Counted. He'll confess when the jar is full. Because maybe, just maybe, Brix means it. SPOILER ALERT: he doesn't. Turns out the signals were smoke, the crush was one-sided, and the heartbreak? Custom-tailored. Chords vs. Collars. Gloss meets grit. A stylish slow-burn that stings where it shouldn't. Because the cruelest crushes don't break-they hum. ___________// ⚠ gentle heads-up! This story explores sensitive themes such as homophobia, emotional trauma, misunderstandings, and the use of strong language. Please read with care and kindness to yourself. Your heart and well-being matter most. ♡ (Note: This story is currently a work in progress and may include typos or little grammar hiccups. Thank you for your patience and love!) 🧵🎸 just a tiny disclaimer: This story is fictional. Some scenes are inspired by real moments I experienced in junior high, and a few characters are loosely based on old friends. But everything else names, places, events is purely imagined. Any similarities are purely coincidental. This is a personal story, a metaphor for a forbidden love I once had. If it feels familiar or cliché, that's not intentional. This story is mine. 🫶🏻

---------- "You think you're different to me, don't you?" I tilt my head, staring at each other's lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly stands, making him in control with the advantage in height. I'm the one looking up at him now. "And you think I'm easy right?" He leans down close to my face, my back hitting the counter. "Does it turn you on the way I speak to you? Every time I say I hate you, do you clench those thighs? Do you think you're special to me because you're the only pretty girl I touch like this?" He whispers, his grip tightening more. My chest rises up and down at the proximity. I was expecting a reaction but not one like this. This is exactly what I wanted. To see him like this, the side of him no one else got to see. "You think I'm pretty?" I lean closer to him but his force on me doesn't let me get closer. ------------------ Annalise Martin is the IT girl, attracting attention everywhere she goes. From perfect looks to perfect grades, people are always watching her, wanting to be her. Jude Fitz is a moody guy and isn't caught speaking to anyone ever. Never being noticed by her. He goes unnoticed and untouched until Annalise gets her eyes on him. Total opposites but something between the two makes sense..

"Why do you always look like that?" "Like what?" "Like you hate every person in this room." "That's because I do." "Why? What did these people do to you?" "Nothing. Yet." "You're a pessimist. Every morning you come in, order black coffee, and glare at every single person in the room." "I don't glare at you," he paused. "Most of the time." "We'll that's because I tell good jokes. It'd be criminal to be rude." I could have sworn that I saw him smile. ~~~ Evelyn has a smile that lights up every room. The very ground she walks on seems to come to life from her touch alone. She sees beauty in the things most others dismiss. Michael not so secretly hopes that everyone on Earth dies in the fiery pits of hell. There's never been a single person he's met that makes him believe in the good of humanity. Except Evelyn.

He's rich, famous, and disgustingly handsome. Also allergic to girls. Especially the clingy, squeaky, fainting kind. Too bad I'm not one of them. I accidentally (okay, not accidentally) insulted Zayn Raheja-the country's most loved heartthrob with those cursed heterochromia eyes. The man whose smirk makes fangirls lose brain cells. Zayn Raheja, Superstar. Billionaire. Heartthrob. One smirk from him and girls forget how to breathe. Too bad I've got better things to do-like sleep. But instead of hating me... He's obsessed. Which is ironic. Because I've been ignoring boys since third grade. And I've never met someone who made it so easy. He's cold, rude, and 100% not my type. So, why is he staring at me like I'm the only puzzle he can't solve? Oops. Plot twist: He fell first. And harder. He's used to girls chasing him. I'm used to avoiding trash. So, no thanks. Our first meeting? He blocked the hallway like he owned oxygen. I told him to move. Politely. (Okay, not politely.) Now he can't stop looking at me like I'm a Rubik's cube he can't solve. And I can't stop wondering why this Greek god keeps showing up where I am. I'm not one of his fangirls. I don't faint, I roast. He should've hated me. Instead... He fell. 💌 Tropes: Enemies-to-Lovers He Fell First Sarcastic Girl × Cold Boy Fangirls Everywhere Except Her Slow Burn, Fast Roasts Rich × Normal Girl Forced Proximity (Eventually!) Celebrity × Civilian Misunderstandings & Mutual Pining Soft Boy Under Layers of Ice He Fell First (and hates it) Not Like Other Girls (literally doesn't care) Banter-to-Love Rich Famous Boy × Normal Sarcastic Girl "I hate girls" × "Cool, I'm not one of them" Enemies-to-Lovers (but she's not even trying) Fangirl-Proof Heroine Emotionally Constipated Boy Hard. And first.

Leo doesn't care about school. He doesn't care about teachers, classmates, or rules. He's rude, cold, and the last person anyone wants to mess with. His name is whispered in the hallways, and no one dares to cross him. No one... except her. Cupcake. His brat. His obsession. The only one who makes him lose control in ways no fight ever could. She's the only one who can talk back to him, tease him until he's flustered, and calm him down when his temper gets the best of him. She loves making him jealous, knowing he'll remind the whole world exactly who she belongs to. Leo fights for her. Leo argues with teachers for her. Leo sneaks into empty classrooms just to have a moment alone with her. And the school? They've learned by now-Cupcake may be tiny, but she's the only one who can tame the beast. ---

There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.

BEWARE: the writing in this is from when I was younger, and is extremely cringey and cliche. I advise you not to read this because the writing in this is no longer a representation of my writing, and I think reflects very poorly on me. Instead, I'd love it if you tried out my newer book, which is in my opinion, much better than this. Just a suggestion, but either way, it's your choice. You've been warned. They strived to make their love perfect. To make their love into an illusion of what could've been perfection. But they were beaten and bruised. And so was their love. HIGHEST RANKINGS: - #1 in DARK - #1 in DARKROMANCE - #1 in BOYXGIRL - #2 in BADBOYXGOODGIRL - #7 in POSSESSIVE - #8 in BULLY - #10 in TEENROMANCE - #18 in TEENLOVE - #26 in GANGLEADER - #27 in BADBOYINLOVE - #109 in GANGS - #124 in GOODGIRL - #202 in TEENFICTION - #810 in HIGHSCHOOL - #823 in PROJECTBADBOYS - #910 in ROMANCE - WARNING: mild language, violence and other dark themes ahead - PREVIOUSLY TITLED "Untamed Bad Boy" - BOOK INSPIRED BY: @_Tiaraqueen_'s discontinued book, "The Untamed boy" - COPYRIGHT © 2020 by @groovygia. All Rights Reserved

"Almost, Always" 🍁🌹 Some people enter your life like whispers...soft, sudden, and gone before you can hold on. She didn't expect to see him again. Not after years, not like this. Not when she had finally learned how to forget the boy who never truly left her mind. But fate isn't loud..it's quiet, casual... cruel. In a classroom filled with noise, their glances screamed stories. A slow-burn connection, unsaid words, and almosts that could've been everything. This is not a fairytale. This is a memory rewritten..with the ending she deserved.