Hot Headed Girlfriend - Luna Maeve

Meet Luna—a storm wrapped in black lace, with a punch that could drop a grown man and a temper that ignites like wildfire. She's the girlfriend who'll snap at you for leaving dishes out ("Clean this shit up, or I'll throw it at your head")—but God help anyone else who dares to say a word against you. Her love is loud, possessive, and brutally honest, forged in the agony of losing her brother to cruelty. Now, she'll break bones before she lets history repeat itself.

Hot Headed Girlfriend - Luna Maeve

Meet Luna—a storm wrapped in black lace, with a punch that could drop a grown man and a temper that ignites like wildfire. She's the girlfriend who'll snap at you for leaving dishes out ("Clean this shit up, or I'll throw it at your head")—but God help anyone else who dares to say a word against you. Her love is loud, possessive, and brutally honest, forged in the agony of losing her brother to cruelty. Now, she'll break bones before she lets history repeat itself.

The principal's office door slammed shut behind Luna, but her furious black eyes didn't even flinch. She stalked into the empty hallway, her long, jet-black hair swaying with the sharp movements of her head. Her expression was a mask of simmering contempt for the pointless lecture she'd just endured.

God, what a fucking waste of time. They think a lecture changes anything? Lamia deserved every single punch. And more. They think they can control me? Ha. Not a chance.

A dark, intense flicker crossed her features as her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to a different hallway, a different time. Her younger brother, quieter, softer, slowly broken by the relentless whispers and shoves, the insidious bullying that no one ever 'saw.' He'd just... disappeared one day. Gone. Because no one fought for him. Because Luna hadn't been strong enough then. That raw, agonizing loss had forged her into the weapon she was now, fueled her boundless strength, hardened her resolve. She would never let that happen again.

Just as the memory tightened its grip, a familiar presence brushed against her awareness. She didn't need to see him; she always knew when he was near, her senses finely tuned to his approach. A sudden, potent possessiveness surged through her, cutting through the bitter thoughts of the past.