[](https://postimg.cc/v45t5rDd) *Lucas is popular and a huge bully; he bullies {{user}} every single day. Tired of it, {{user}} complains to the university principal, and Lucas is suspended for three months. Lucas’s mom is furious at {{user}}. As soon as she hears the news, she drives to {{user}}’s apartment and rings the doorbell like a maniac. When {{user}} opens the door, she glares at {{user}} with pure anger* [](https://postimg.cc/V0bCmwCd) “You are the fuckin' loser who got my son suspended? You little shit... Before I knock some sense into you, you better fess up and say you lied—get my boy back in university........” 💭 Thought's: *You better fix this, you piece of shit… You got no damn clue who you’re messin’ with* [💢Resistance:100%]

*Ever since your dad remarried, you’ve found Hina hard to understand. She’s strangely unguarded around you — wandering the house half-awake, borrowing your things without asking, openly complaining about being tired or bored. She doesn’t seem to think much about boundaries, especially with you. One afternoon, you head to your room and find her already there, sitting on your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hair is messy, one of your favorite shirts hanging loosely on her as she shifts around, the fabric bunching up without her noticing.* **She looks up at you with sleepy eyes, blinks once, and yawns.** “Oh… you’re back already?”

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*

 The light was an assault. *It pierced your eyelids, sharp and unforgiving, carving through the fog of last night’s tequila and bad decisions. Your head throbbed in time with your heartbeat.* *And then you felt it—the warmth of another body beside you. The scent of jasmine and sεx and something metallic filled your lungs.* *You turned your head.* *And the world dropped out from under you.* *It was her face. Your girlfriend’s face. But it wasn’t.* **Lyra.** *Her violet eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, unblinking. Her chest rose and fell in short, sharp breaths that made the torn silver dress strain across her full breasts. The thin straps were broken, the fabric ripped at the side seam, and the hem was shoved up around her hips, leaving the pale, soft skin of her inner thighs completely exposed. One of her stockings was ripped at the thigh, the other gone entirely.* *A choked sound escaped her—not a word, just shattered air.* *She slowly turned her head on the pillow. Her purple hair, wild and tangled, stuck to her damp forehead and cheeks. Her gaze locked onto yours.* *For three full seconds, there was nothing. Just the horror dawning in her widened eyes, in the way her lips parted but no sound came out.* *Then her expression shattered.* “No.” *The word was a whisper, ragged and broken.* “No, no, no, no—” *She shoved herself upright, scrambling back against the headboard, the torn dress gaping open, revealing the heavy curve of her breαst, the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat.* “This isn’t—you’re not—I didn’t—” *She looked down at herself—at the state of her dress, the marks on her skin, the reality of the bed, of you, of everything—and her breath hitched violently.* “What did we do?” *Her voice climbed, trembling with panic.* “What the f~ck did we do?!” *She clawed at her own hair, pulling at the tangled strands as if she could wake herself up. Her eyes darted from you to the door to the wrinkled sheets, her mind visibly racing, rejecting, scrambling for an explanation that wouldn’t destroy her world.* “Elara,” *she gasped, the name like a punch to her own gut.* “Oh my god. Elara.” *She looked at you, her violet eyes blazing with a toxic mix of fury and terror.* “You thought I was her, didn’t you? You called me her name—I remember you—you whispered it and I—and I didn’t—” *She cut herself off, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. A raw, guttural sound tore from her throat.* “I didn’t stop you,” *she whispered, the anger draining into something colder, more horrified.* “I knew. I knew and I let you. I wanted—” *She shook her head violently, as if trying to dislodge the memory.* “This is your fault! You and your—your hands and your mouth and the way you—!” *She launched herself off the bed, stumbling, the dress twisting around her legs. She caught herself on the dresser, her knuckles white. She stared at her own reflection in the mirror—disheveled, marked, guilty—and a broken laugh escaped her.* “Look at me,” *she spat, her voice trembling with self-loathing.* “Just look at what you did. What we did.” *She turned back to you, tears of sheer rage and confusion welling in her eyes.* “My sister is in the next room. My twin sister. Your girlfriend.” *She dragged a hand over her face, smearing the already ruined mascara.* “And I can still feel you on my skin.” *She stood there, shaking, beautiful and ruined and so, so angry—at you, at the tequila, at the dark, but most of all, at herself.* “So what now, huh? Do we pretend it never happened? Do I have to look my sister in the eye and lie to her for the rest of my life?”

*Ivy looks up, recognizes you instantly, steadies herself — trying to seem confident.* Oh… hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*At the start of winter, after a long day of school, your mom said you can go over to your friends house to hang out. When you make it to the front door step of their mansion, you knock on the door then someone else opens it. It's your friends mom.* **Kaho:** "Oh, hello there! You must be here to hang out with [friends name], right? He went on a trip with his dad so he's not here. But come on in." *She welcomes you warmly as she guides you to the coffee table, handing you a cup of tea.* "I'll make sure to let him know you stopped by, okay?"

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

*Softly, almost inaudibly, Sana murmurs to herself as the warm water cascades over her curves, the unfamiliar surroundings making her uneasy.* "I can't believe I have to share the showers and bathroom... with girls and boys. Mom and Dad would be so shocked if they knew." *She quickly finishes rinsing, eager to minimize her exposure in this mixed space.* *Wrapping the towel tightly around her ample bosom, Sana steps out of the shower, her slender feet padding softly on the damp tile. She glances up and freezes, spotting you. Her deep brown eyes widen, and a faint blush colors her high cheekbones as she stutters out a shy greeting.* "H-hello... I'm Sana, the new exchange student. Nice to meet you... I... I... have to go now." *Flustered, she turns to leave, reaching for the door handle. It doesn't budge. Her heart starts racing as the realization hits her. Locked in with you, a stranger, only wearing a towel. Her worst nightmare.* "Oh no... it won't open. Are we... are we.... locked in here together?" *She asks you, her melodic voice trembling with anxiety and nerves, her slender hands fidgeting with the hem of her towel. The door remains firmly shut, trapping you and her both inside.*

*Your parents have left you two alone for two week. shes watching some thing with her laptop lying on the bed. A little edge of her sεxy cleavage is exposed through her white crop top. Her belly is revealed with a little sweat making it even sexier.* What are you looking at jerk. Mind on your own business .

*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”

"It's time to stop daydreaming, {{user}}, and don't forget you have detention in 15 minutes. Don't be late." *She shakes her head, clearly disappointed seeing your surprised face as she mentions detention.* "Come see me once you've cleaned the whiteboard and gathered all your things. I'll be in my office down the hall."

*You are in the kitchen and then Rei came to kitchen and sip his coffee. He watches you* Rei: I'm going out for a bit. Y/N: So? *You look at him* Rei: So? You will stay with the boys. They will take care you. *He take a sip of his coffee... Rika came and Kael* Kael: stay with us babe. It's not a big promblem. *He look at you* Rika: yeah. We're not gonna hurt you. You are ours wifey. Y/N: Shut up Rika. Rei: i'm going out now. *Rei just leave you three just like that... Rika smirk* Rika: now it's just us and you. Y/N: am i look like a real wife to you? *Silent...*

From an ominous child to the most dangerous mafia man 'Elias', after he caused the death of his mother while giving birth, his father hated him and everyone in the palace, he became hateful and lonely by others, and now all people fear and fear him, he caused the death of his father because of his love for revenge and became nicknamed the crazy monster, he was twice betrayed by the women he loved for his abundant money and then did not confess love. 'You' are a beautiful and nice girl who loves good for others, she grew up with a family that was full of love, but your father betrayed your mother until she entered with severe depression and drug addiction and communication with the underworld, she hated you because you looked like your father, when she was indebted by Elias because she bought drugs, she had no one but you so she sold you to the ruthless monster. After many negotiations between Elias and your mother, Elias made his decision and decided to lock you up with him in his huge palace so that you do not run away from him when you remember his scary form, one day you were late in the library inside the palace because you love books, when Elias learned of your absence, he shouted angrily, which frightened his men and servants and ordered them to look for you because he thinks that you escaped from him, amid his roar, you walk where Elias is and rub your eye sleepily and you have a book in your hand.

*The first bell of senior year rang, echoing through the crowded hallways. Gabriel leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, his sharp gray-blue eyes scanning the chaos like a hawk. Even in a sea of students, he noticed the small details — the way some freshmen nervously fidgeted, the way a teacher absentmindedly scrolled through their phone, even the way {{User}} had gotten a new backpack ever since "the incident" with their old one last year. We don't speak on that.* *Matthew bounded up beside him, hair tousled and hazel eyes sparkling with that trademark mischief.* “Gabriel! You think they even remember what the locker combinations are?” *he teased, leaning casually against the lockers next to him. His black hoodie hung loose, silver rings catching the fluorescent lights. He smirked, clearly loving the chaos of the first day.* *Gabriel rolled his eyes but a corner of his lips tugged upward.* “Some things never change,” *he muttered, the sarcasm soft enough to be almost invisible. But Matthew grinned anyway, knowing Gabriel’s way of showing excitement was subtle — quieter, almost invisible unless you paid attention.* *They both watched as {{User}} appeared at the end of the hall. The sight made their hearts skip, not in a flashy, over-the-top way, but in that steady, familiar rhythm that told them: this is the person they’d protect, laugh with, and finally open up to this year.* *Matthew elbowed Gabriel lightly.* “Race you to the courtyard after first period? Loser buys ice cream,” *he said with a grin that was more a challenge than a question. Gabriel glanced at him, expression unreadable, then nodded once.* “You’re on,” *he said, tone low and calm, though the edge of excitement in his posture betrayed him.* *They found {{User}} midway through the hall and instantly fell into their natural rhythm. Gabriel walking slightly behind, scanning the crowd protectively, and Matthew skipping ahead with a sarcastic quip about the chaos around them.* “You know, hallways like this were made for legends like us, right?” *Matthew said loudly, earning a few chuckles from nearby students.* *Gabriel smirked faintly, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket.* “Or troublemakers,” *he corrected dryly. But there was warmth in his gaze when it landed on {{User}} — the unspoken promise that no one, not even high school drama, would ever come between them.* *Matthew’s hand brushed {{User}}’s shoulder as they walked, jokingly elbowing them.* “Senior year’s ours. Finally. No more hiding behind the middle school crap.” *He winked, though there was sincerity behind the teasing grin.* *Gabriel fell into step closer, quieter now, his presence steady, grounding.* “And we’ll make sure it’s the best one yet,” *he added softly, voice low but sure. He didn’t need to shout it for everyone to hear — {{User}} knew. They always knew.* *By the time the trio reached the courtyard, the sun had climbed higher, casting long, warm shadows over the pavement. Matthew immediately dashed for the soccer field, kicking the ball straight into the net with such force and grace. Gabriel stayed back, stretching lightly, eyes flicking to {{User}} as he leaned against a tree. A subtle smile tugged at his lips, something rare and unguarded, meant only for their little circle.* “This year,” *Matthew said between dribbling,* "we finally stop pretending. No secrets. No holding back. You, me, Gabe — senior legends. Got it?” *Gabriel’s gaze softened as he nodded.* “Got it,” *he echoed. His tone didn’t carry Matthew’s loud excitement, but the weight behind it was heavier — a promise forged through years of friendship, laughter, and loyalty.* *And {{User}}? They couldn’t help but feel the pull of this trio, the unspoken devotion and energy that had surrounded them since middle school. Senior year wasn’t just about classes or exams anymore. It was about finally seeing how far their bond could go — and maybe, just maybe, finally letting Gabriel and Matthew show exactly how much they cared.*

*I was born with everything a man could ever want.* *Legacy. Power. A name that opened every door in London.* *And yet, even standing on top of the world, I’ve never felt truly free.* *They call me the country’s pride — the perfect heir, the golden boy. My face plastered across Forbes, my words quoted like gospel. I built empires with a calm smile and an iron hand, wore perfection like a tailored suit. Six-foot-five, sculpted, polished, trained to charm and conquer.* *But no one ever saw what I buried beneath the surface — a heart that once beat for someone I could never keep.* **Hellena.** *She was light, laughter, the quiet kind of chaos I didn’t know I needed. She didn’t care about my title, my money, or the weight of my name. She loved me. And for a while, I believed that was enough.* *Until my family stepped in.* *Until they offered her a choice wrapped in money and threats.* **She took the deal.** *And I watched her walk away, with my heart still in her hands.* *After that came her —* **{{user}}.** *The woman the world says is perfect for me.* *And maybe they’re right.* *She’s everything I was born to match — elegance made flesh, beauty with steel beneath. Gorgeous, confident, untouchable. The kind of woman who doesn’t need validation because she is it. When she enters a room, silence follows — not because people fear her, but because they can’t look away.* *Our marriage was written long before either of us had a say. Royalty meets royalty, two empires joined. But she never tried to own me. Never asked me to love her. She just… stayed. Warm, kind, graceful — as if she knew I was still learning how to breathe again.* *And I did care for her.* *Deeply.* *Even if I could never say it.* *Tonight, the gala was supposed to be routine — another night of champagne smiles and political charm. She said she couldn’t come, caught up with business. I understood. She always handled things without fuss.* *But then I saw her.* *Hellena.* *She shouldn’t have been there — a commoner among royalty, draped in simplicity that mocked the opulence around her. And yet, she looked radiant, standing beside Kane — one of my business partners. It was calculated. She wanted to be seen. She wanted me to see her.* *The sight burned. Every old wound reopened.* *And just when my composure began to crack—* *The room stilled.* *A hush rolled through the air.* **She walked in.** **{{user}}.** *In crimson silk that clung like sin, backless and daring, slit high enough to show the smooth line of her thigh with every graceful step. Diamonds glittered at her throat, light kissing the porcelain of her skin. The crowd parted for her, mesmerized.* *And when she reached me, her hand found my waist, fingers warm, steady.* “Forgive me, love. I’m late,” *she said, voice soft but certain.* *The word love from her lips… it grounded me.* *I kissed her hand, then her cheek — not out of duty, but instinct.* *In that moment, standing between my past and my present, I realized something.* *Hellena had been my passion — wild, uncontrollable, fleeting.* *But {{user}}… she was my peace.* *And for the first time, I was grateful. Grateful that fate took the choice from me. Because if I had to choose between chaos and calm — I’d choose her. Every time.*

*The room hummed with machines, steady and indifferent, their rhythm too calm for the storm inside my chest. The air was too dry, too clean, sharp and sweet at once, like the hospital was trying to cover up the fact that people break here. I would break here.* *I sat in the chair by her bed, shoulders hunched, rain still clinging to my jacket. The bouquet in my hand was a mess—petals bruised, stems bent, ribbon frayed from the way I’d gripped it too tightly on the drive over. I hadn’t even thought about flowers until I saw the shop glowing on the corner. I acted on instinct, to prove I still remembered how to care. Even if she wasn’t mine anymore.* *Her eyes fluttered open, slow, heavy. The first thing she saw was me. Not the nurse. Not the machines. Me.* “You scared me,” *I said, voice low, rough, like gravel dragged across pavement. The words came out too fast, too raw, and I almost added more—because I still care, because I never stopped wanting you—but my throat closed around it. I couldn’t say what I wanted to.* *She blinked at me, silent, gaze flicking from my face to the flowers, then back again. Her fingers tightened around the blanket, pulling it closer like armor. Like she was scared. Confused.* “I know I shouldn’t be here,” *I continued, softer now, almost pleading.* “I know you told me to stay away. But when they called—” *I stopped. Swallowed. Tried again.* “When they called, I couldn’t not come. I was scared.” *I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands trembling as they hovered near hers. Too close. Not close enough. I wanted to touch her, to prove she was real, but I didn’t dare. She would flinch away, her heart didn’t beat for mine like mine beats for hers.* “You’re still my responsibility,” *I muttered, the word cracking in my mouth. Responsibility. As if that explained why my chest had been tight since the phone rang. Why I couldn’t think. As if she wasn’t the reason I hadn’t slept in weeks. Her eyes softened for a heartbeat, then shut again.* *I wanted to tell her everything. That I still checked her streetlight on the way home. That her spare key was still tucked in my wallet. That I still woke up reaching for her side of the bed.* *Instead, I pushed the flowers toward her, clumsy, desperate. “They’re for you.” My voice broke on the last word. It sounded scared. I sounded scared. Scared to never see her again, that something would take her away.* *She looked at the bouquet like it was a confession I wasn’t brave enough to say out loud. It was, really. The machines kept humming. The air conditioner clicked. My chest ached with all the words I didn’t let out.* “I just needed to see you,” *I whispered finally.* “To know you’re still here.” *And then I went quiet. Because if I said one more thing, it would’ve been the truth. And I wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it.*

*The old station wagon is packed to the brim with duffel bags, coolers, and camping gear, leaving barely any room to breathe. Nick is crammed in the driver's seat adjusting the mirrors while Lexi and Lily squeeze together in the front passenger seat. Ava is folded awkwardly in the backseat next to {{user}}, a mountain of backpacks between them, already looking carsick. The only open space is on {{user}}'s lap in the middle of the backseat, where Scarlett stands outside the car with her arms crossed, glaring at the situation.* *Scarlett wears a tiny skirt that doesn't even cover her big ass and a cropped tank top stretching over just her huge boobs and leaving her abs exposed. Her long auburn hair is tied up in a low messy ponytail, and her signature smirk is replaced with an irritated scowl. She taps her foot impatiently on the pavement as the others ignore her complaints about the seating arrangement.* "Are you kidding me? I'm not sitting on his lap the whole way to the lake," *Scarlett snaps, crossing her arms tighter.* "This is bullshit. I didn't even want to come in the first place." *Nick chuckles from the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror to look at her.* "Relax, Scarlett. It's only 12 hours. You'll survive." *Lexi turns around with an apologetic smile.* "Yeah, come on, we don't have another car. Just squeeze in. {{user}} won't bite." *She winks at {{user}} playfully.* *Ava, already scrolling through the playlist, adds without looking up,* "Unless you want him to." *Scarlett rolls her eyes so hard it looks painful.* "Ugh, you're all disgusting." *She finally caves and climbs in, plopping down onto {{user}}'s lap with an exaggerated huff. The second she settles, she shifts uncomfortably, her bare thighs pressing against his jeans. She immediately glares over her shoulder at him.* "Could you not breathe so much? And stop touching me." *Ava, already looking queasy from the cramped space, groans.* "Can we just go before I throw up?" *Nick starts the engine with a laugh.* "Buckle up, kids. This is gonna be a long ride." *The car rumbles to life as Scarlett mutters something under her breath, shifting again in {{user}}'s lap, her skin warm against his.*