"Keep walking away from me," he challenges, voice a low rumble. "And I'll have you bent over right here." ~~~~~ Jeon Jungkook 𝟏𝟖𝟎𝟎'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔. Royal. Witty. Dark Romance. Enemies to enemies to enemies, then finally, after a few light years--to lovers. started: december 2024 finished: july 2025 © bubbletaeu 2025

"You think I'm short?" I ask, smirking up at him through my lashes. "Then put some inches in me, why don't you?" ~~~~~~~ Jeon Jungkook 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐔 + Enemies to lovers (hardcore enemies) + Romcom Cover image by lvssx.69 on tiktok **images in the book are not owned by me-credits to rightful owners started: march 2024 finished: december 2024 © bubbletaeu 2024

"Full throttle isn't just for the tracks, darling." Jeon Jungkook Rich RACER x Maid AU.

"𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕," "𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔?" 𝑰 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒎 𝒍𝒊𝒑. "𝑺𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒆," ◌ ⋅ • ☽ 𖥸 ☾• ⋅ ◌ 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 🔞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: • ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ • ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ • ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ • ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀꜱꜱᴀᴜʟᴛ ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ • ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 ✓

{𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘒 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘠} Ria Romano knew hurt like the back of her hand. She was dealt her fair share of bad cards, more than anyone so young should have to face. A cynical girl riddled with the remnants of her past, a shattered sort of soul. She concealed like it was second nature; her instinct being to suppress. She'd offer you a cigarette with a shrug while you were crying because she never was too great with affection. She didn't smile so often but when she did and it was directed at you, you'd never feel such satisfaction. I was told Aria preferred to be alone, isolated; clouding her mind with inhales of her cigarette and drowning it in alcohol. Until she was dealt her good card, out of the pack of bad. They had a love beautiful enough to last a lifetime, the type directors desire to capture and authors aspire to write. Two souls, shattered by the cruelty of the world time and time again with flames that rekindled each others. They were each other's oxygen. They breathed life back into each other, those two insomniacs. <3

"𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫." ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Maikel Marquez was one of the most reputable students in Cleveland College. Known for having an extremely outgoing personality but also being a straight up heartbreaker. Everything is going well but that all changes when his younger sister, Carmen, joins. Carmen is the definition of beauty and brains but also completely innocent and clueless. She doesn't drink, never goes out and has been sheltered her whole life by her family's wealth; meaning Carmen has never gotten a taste of the real world by herself. What happens when she falls into the hands of the wrong person? Damian Galanis. Playboy, heartbreaker and also Maikel's best friend. He is the opposite of Maikel in every way. Yet despite the pair being entirely different to each other, they get along like two peas in the pod. Maikel and Damian support whatever one another decided to do however there was always one thing that was off limits for Damian. Maikel's little sister, Carmen. Damian had never seen Carmen before but as soon as he sets his sight on the wholesome girl, he can't stop thinking about her. Damian has always been handed everything in his life and has never been told the word "no", due to his prosperous parents giving him everything he has ever wanted and more on a silver platter. The problem is, he wants the one thing he can't have. Will things go smoothly between the pair, or will lust and temptation get the best of them? 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 & 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 Revenge Countless souls have fallen prey to its grasp, their lives shattered as deeply as those they sought to harm, if not more so. For most, mere death isn't the end It's not enough to satiate their thirst They crave retribution, wish for something beyond the grave. They want misery upon those who've wronged them. Long for the torment of those who've wounded them But at the end of the day, it's merely a wish, A burning desire for- well, nothing realistic, really For they are weak. Powerless Some may even deem them useless But then, there exist the select few- those who refuse to settle for anything less than the worst, denying death's grasp to unleash a living hell upon their enemies, Those who take matters into their own hands, seizing control & becoming the architects of their own vengeance, Now those, those are dangerous. For in their eyes, the concept of contentment is a foreign notion, replaced by a searing ache for more- More agony, despair. More misery, more wails. More destruction, chaos. People like him, they feed off of fear, thrive in causing pain. They're cunning, calculating, heartless But frankly, even the most twisted of them seem like harmless amateurs in comparison to him. He reeks of death Exudes darkness, sorrow Death is all that shadows his steps, making his existence a reminder of the inevitable fate that awaits his victims. And whispers in the Russian underworld speak of him as Mors- The god of death So, what happens when a girl, who abandoned her family, her life & the very empire bestowed upon her- just to escape the sight of death, catches the eyes of the reaper? What happens when he pulls her into the abyss of his world, intent on destroying all she has fought to be in pursuit of vengeance? And what happens when, as the day wanes, the embodiment of her deepest fear captures her eyes as well?

Walking away felt like its own kind of pain, and hope had long since lost its meaning. In the chill of the evening, every step weighed on me-bones aching, skin stinging, as if each movement tore something loose inside. My tears burned against the cold wind, searing rather than soothing. "Please," I whispered, the word slipping out like a fragile, fading prayer. "Do you want me to touch you like this, Daisy?" Each step drags, my feet heavy against the ground, every footprint feeling like I'm leaving a piece of myself behind-like my soul is slipping away with each one. My senses dull, my energy drains, until all that's left is a hollow, aching emptiness. But hasn't it been this way for the past three years without him? "Have anyone made you feel like this? Wet like this?" I don't know if I'll survive this time-but I'm still asking for one more chance. "Just one... and I'll make everything right." But why do I have to beg for it? Why am I the only one fighting? Why is it always on me to fix what's broken? "Do me Jungkook, p-please." Love-so simple, yet impossibly complicated. No matter what he's done, no matter the hurt or the distance, I'm still in love with him. And I want to fight for us one last time. I need to see how it ends, even if it breaks me. Just one final try. "With all the pleasure. I will fuck you, only fuck you with everything I have Daisy." There's no point in hoping, is there? He isn't here. He isn't coming. So, there's no chance at a happy ending for me now... is there? The sun sinks lower, shadows stretching as night draws near. With a heavy heart, I force my feet forward, each step pulling me farther from the possibility of him-of us. I knew this from the start. I should have known better, should never have let myself fall for someone like Jungkook, someone who doesn't believe in love. NOTE: This book was completed in 2020 and is being rewritten this year. All Rights Reserved ©2026 ©narahkris #wattys2019

Hana's only solace from her awful co-worker is Overwatch. "Does anybody know about it?" She asked hesitantly; if he was struggling with this 'thing', she didn't want to say something wrong and potentially make it worse. "This is the first time I've said anything to anybody," he admitted, "For some reason, I feel extremely comfortable talking to you. More so than anybody else." A blush tinted Hana's cheeks at his confession. Realistically, she felt the same, only because they didn't really know each other. She could tell him all of her secrets, and it wouldn't matter, because he didn't know who she was. Honors #1 - Bangtan

In which an eighteen-year-old succumbs to an older man . . . "I can't resist him, even though I tried. Call me weak, pathetic, my ears are deaf except if it's his voice they're listening to. Because no matter what, just one touch and I'm at his mercy."