Jung Kook Bts Fifa Sound Dreamers Lyrics

His reputation stretches far and wide and is darker than his dark suits and ties. After Lauren's first encounter with her father's killer, she realizes he’s just as dangerous as he is handsome. She doesn’t like the man or anything he stands for, though that doesn’t stop her heart from wanting to jump out of her chest like an excited rabbit when he’s near, nor the shiver that ghosts down her spine at the sound of his voice. And he’s always near. Telling her what to do. Dragged into his world in a contract marriage that'd benefit the dark lord and satisfy her thirst for revenge against her mother's enemies, her life and heart goes towards a downward spiral. Lauren may be a sweet girl on the outside, but she’s beginning to learn she has a taste for the darkness, for rough hands on her neck, cigarettes, and emerald-colored eyes.

“Don't! My body is a temple of the Lord!” I shivered at the sound and raid in my voice as I held his gaze. He let out a small chuckle, a smirk slowly crawling to his lips. “Your body belongs to me–” he grabbed my naked ass, forcefully pulling me to make contact with his hardened body. “I, Vermont Cardonisss, am now your Lord, little pet. Bend over!” *** It is better to be a slave to a mafia than to be a sex toy of your very own father. On this account, Grace agrees to pay the debts of her father to the sexy and brutal mafia, Vermont Cardoniss. It becomes a bloody entanglement of two incessant individuals where Vermont seems too ruthless to repent and Grace, too religious to be laid. Would it be a case of a good girl turned naughty or the redemption of a cold-blooded mafia? [Content Guidance: This book is intended for adult as it contains explicit sexual and violence scenes]

“You can feel it right? The burning attraction.” Giovanni whispers, trapping her by the wall. He rests his palm beside her head, lowering his head to her height. Mia swallows her spit as she automatically clasps her thighs together trying to soothe the ache down there. “No– I don't feel anything.” she says trying to sound firm, but her voice betrays her coming out in a breathy whisper. He smirks, trailing his fingers down her cheeks tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Deny all you want. You. Are. Mine!!!” he growls, slamming his lips down on hers hard. ~~~~ Mia Neomi didn't know what she dragged herself into when she innocently saved a mafia lord from death in a dark alley one night. Thinking everything was going to be fine after she woke to an empty bed, life shows her it's more fucked up than she thinks when they meet in the most uncanny way ever. The man she saved turns out to be her cold, ruthless, and merciless boss at her office, Mr Giovanni Antonio. A cold blooded killer, the Capo of the Italian Mafia. A man whose sole purpose is to ruin everything he touches. He hates her because he can't stop thinking about her while she hates him because he makes her life hell. But when the attraction overtakes the hatred. Mia soon discovers that the man she is attracted to isn't who he says he is, and the woman he is attracted to isn't who he thinks she is. Lies, secrets, and betrayal threatens to tear them apart. Will their attraction conquer it all? Or will they be consumed in the web that entangles them together? I mean is attraction even worth fighting for?

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

She lives on her own terms. He’s living on borrowed time. Neither of them planned on falling—especially not for each other. Blue has made a life out of leaving. Her summer is all dusty boots, soft sunsets, and smoky guitar covers shared with millions of followers from the back of her boho van. Portland was supposed to be a quick visit—just her best friend, a short-term gig harvesting,, and a little time to breathe.But then there’s Teddy.He’s the brooding, blue-eyed lead singer of No Name, the local grunge band with a sound that hits like a bruise and a smile that makes her forget how to breathe. He’s wild onstage and guarded off of it, carrying secrets behind that slow-burning gaze. He’s everything she never wanted: complicated, magnetic, dangerous in a way that feels too good to ignore.What starts as stolen glances and flirtation under stage lights turns into something hotter, deeper, harder to walk away from.They come from different worlds—but under the heat of a summer that feels endless, they collide in all the wrong ways that somehow feel right.And the only thing harder than falling for him… is trusting he won’t break her.

My body hurt—badly. The bruises from Logan’s fists were fresh, my ankle throbbed from where he kicked me, and one of my eyes was nearly swollen shut. But I still limped down the hallway with a cold pack in hand, desperate for something… maybe comfort, maybe just his attention. I didn’t know. Then I heard it—low groans, heavy breathing, the unmistakable sound of skin against skin. Sweaty. Lustful. Raw. I opened the door and my heart shattered. There he was—Logan Hart. My husband. The man I loved more than myself. And with him? Tessa Black—his girlfriend, his mistress, the perfect model everyone adored. They were tangled in the sheets, bodies slick, eyes wild, too lost in each other to even care that I stood there. I couldn’t breathe. I screamed. And Logan… he didn’t even flinch. He didn’t apologize. Didn’t care. “Get out,” he said coldly. “I’m in the middle of something.” That was it. That was the moment I broke. I ran. Limping, shaking, crying—I ran and didn’t look back. What I didn’t know was… that heartbreak would be the beginning of everything.

Kyla is arranged to be married to Vixen, a powerful mafia boss with an unbroken reputation. To the outside world, he's cold, hard, ruthless, and merciless. She's kind, tender-hearted, beautiful, and caring. Given Vixen's reputation, Kyla doesn't want to fall in love, but soon, she learns that even the coldest hearts have a soft spot, and Vixen's just might be her. And although she doesn't like to admit it, hers might be him. Will they ever find love, or will this be a loveless marriage after all? ------- He raises his fist and I could swear I made a whimpering sound. I turn away and I look at the window as Vixen gets quiet. "Kyla." he says, his cold, hard mask still intact. I look at him, not saying anything, and he shifts in his seat, well aware of why I reacted that way. "Who did it?" he asks. I look down at my hands and I don't reply. "Was it those assholes at the university?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Kyla?" he says, his fingers brushing against my arm. I jump at his contact and suddenly a tear falls from my eyes. "God." he says as I begin to cry. I can tell he's not used to emotion.... "How was your first day sweetheart?" she asks sincerely. "A couple of frats tried getting in her panties in broad daylight and everyone around was gonna let it happen. How's that sound?" Vixen says, obviously still pissed.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

"Who is she?" My voice came out weak, foreign to my own ears. I despised the way it sounded--like a scared child-and I hated how he made me feel so small, so powerless. He let his breath out in a noisy sigh-a low, suffering sound, as if he was putting up with something beneath him. "Are we really doing this?" His voice was low now, tined with irritation. "It's not what you think. And even if it was, what are you going to do about it? You blind bat?" I froze, as tears slid down my face. I was just blind to him. A burden.

“Please Sir, don't divorce me. I will do whatever you want, but not a divorce.” Carolyn pleaded desperately with the man that everything about him was screaming danger.  She was taken aback by the coldness the man was exuding when he turned to face her. His eyes held so much darkness that she flinched. All her senses awoke blaring alarm bells in her head to get away, but to where? She had been walking helplessly in the street after she discovered her aunt's cruel intentions towards her on her wedding day. Until that young man mistook her as the bride of this man and brought her to the altar to marry this man who is scaring the living daylights out of her. He took a slow stride to her, held her chin with his index finger making her eyes meet his, and said. “Little bunny, you did not only trick my assistant into believing you're my bride, but you're also asking for a favor?“ “I'd like to sound a note of warning. Being my wife means you're ready to stay in my hell. You seem too fragile to be in my abyss, you might die, and there's no going back once you're in. Are you still willing?". He asked. “Yes, I am willing. In exchange, you'll have to protect me from my aunt and her goons.” She boldly declared. The man squirted his eyes at the little bunny in front of him for whatever reason, she was the most audacious woman he had ever come across and a devilish smile curled up his lips and said. “STRIP AND PLEASURE YOURSELF WIFEY.” And Carolyn's jaws dropped. Did she make the right decision by entering into a deal with the devil?  Will she regret her actions? READ TO FIND OUT.