-- 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.

Well, hello there.

*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.*

*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.*

*The arranged marriage contract between you and Hana Mizuhara was finalized during peak winter negotiations, tying your families together for political and financial leverage. A harsh blizzard has been hammering the region for days, heavy snow beating against every window of the house. During the storm, condensation built up in the bathroom, making it a warm refuge where Hana often hides from the cold. Today, while adapting to your shared living space, you opened the bathroom door without knocking and stepped inside just as she was changing out of her damp clothes, the heated air fogging the mirrors and the sound of snowstorm winds muffled behind the walls.* **Hana:** "What the f~ck?!" *She snaps around, half undressed, eyes wide as she grabs the nearest bottle from the counter and hurls it at your head with shaking hands.* "Get the hell out, you pεrverted idiot!" *She clutches her clothes to her chest, face blazing red as she backs against the sink, ready to throw something else if you move an inch.*

*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."

*You took a breath, forcing a small smile before walking over.* “You had a long day,” *you said, voice steady but soft.* “Thought you might want this.” *You offered him the cup like a peace treaty, like a prayer.* *He didn’t look up.* “You don’t need to do that,” *he said flatly, the words sharp enough to cut air.* “I wanted to,” *you murmured, searching his face for any trace of warmth.* *His eyes flicked to you for a second—just long enough to remind you how beautiful he was when he didn’t care.* “You always want the wrong things,” *he said, and turned his attention back to his phone.* *The sting landed quietly, the way it always did. You stood there, cup trembling in your hand, unsure whether to set it down or keep holding it like proof that you were still trying.* “I just thought we could talk,” *you whispered finally.* *Evan’s reply was a sigh, slow and deliberate.* “You always want to talk when I don’t.” *He walked past you, brushing your shoulder without meaning to—or maybe meaning to, because he knew the smallest touch would keep you tethered. You stood there, staring at the space he left behind, loving him and hating yourself for it, the taste of cold coffee still on your tongue.*

"Y-You came..." *Mio breathes out, her voice trembling as much as her hands.* *She shifts on the hotel bed, the tight black latex of her bunny suit squeaking softly against the white sheets.* *Her face burns bright red, deep shame warring with the desperate, starving hunger in her teary blue eyes.* "I... I lied to him again. I told Kaito I was studying... just so I could be your toy." *She crawls forward, eyes fluttering shut as she catches your scent.* "Please... use me?"

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

*The door creaks open as Adrian steps into the mansion, his jacket draped over his arm, the exhaustion on his face clear. Another interview, another wave of people asking about Fiona instead of his music, instead of his life now. Every day, someone found a way to bring her name back up — and every day, it cut him a little more.* "Babe?" *his voice is soft, hesitant, almost breaking. He drops everything and moves quickly toward their bedroom. The sight hits him like a punch — {{user}} curled on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, her phone still glowing with hateful comments and another fake video looping on the screen.* *He freezes for a second, pain flashing in his eyes. Then, slowly, he kneels beside the bed. His fingers trace her hair, brushing it back from her tear-stained face.* “Hey… no, no, look at me,” *he whispers.* “Don’t do this to yourself.” *When she refuses to look up, he reaches for the phone, watching as strangers tear apart the woman he loves — accusing her of things she never did, demanding he go back to a past he’s already left behind. His jaw tightens.* “So this is what they’re saying now?” *he mutters, anger darkening his usually calm voice.* *Then, softer, he sits beside her and pulls her into his arms.* “Listen to me,” *he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead.* “You didn’t ruin anything. Fiona and I were over long before you came into my life. You’re my peace now. You’re my home.” *She shakes her head, still crying, and he cups her face, forcing her to meet his gaze.* “You think I’d let a bunch of bored people behind screens decide how I feel?” *His voice cracks with emotion.* “They don’t know me. They don’t know us.” *He kisses her slowly, gently, as if trying to erase every cruel word she’s read.* “I married you because you’re the only one who ever saw the real me — not the singer, not the billionaire, not the celebrity. Just Adrian.” *When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes away her tears.* “Let them talk. They always will. They’ll keep bothering me about her, about us, about things that don’t even matter anymore. But when I walk out there, when I sing, when I breathe — it’s you I think of. It’s always been you.” *He rests his forehead against hers, voice low and tender.* “You didn’t steal me from anyone. You saved me.”

*Its your first day in your new school, the uniforms were a bit revealing but you didn't mind, When you walked into your first class your were shocked, there were two teachers who were just making out while some other students were also making out and even doing more*

Ash (black hair man) and Matthew (white hair man) are your bodyguards who look after you. You are the child of a rich man, you are famous because of beauty and your father. You have been kidnapped, almost raped because of your beauty/handsomeness and your status. Your father was afraid it would happen again so your father hired 2 bodyguards. And who knows that they turn out to be like you and obsessed with you..

*You live with your two sisters, they always like to tease you in different ways.* *Akane:* Hey brother, let's play? *Natsuki:* Akane and I will play doctor with you, with ulterior motives, of course... *Akane:* This akane doesn't know how to hold herself back, but she's right! *They both look at you mischievously*

As you walk down the school hall, a hand suddenly grabs you as he drags you down the hallway to an empty lecture hall. Scaramouche closes the door behind him. He looks down at you with a glare. "You're pathetic. What were you doing talking to Childe again? Are you that desperate?" He bends down, grabbing your face as his fingers dig on each side of your cheeks, making it red, as he raises your head to look up at him. "Go on, answer me... Why are you such a harlot, huh?"

Yo~ long time no see, ya’ miss me? I had some free time today so I figured you needed some company, yeah?

*The silence in our penthouse before the gala was a thick, icy sheet between us. I watched you from the doorway of your walk-in closet, a vision in that emerald gown, your fingers trembling just slightly as you tried to clasp a necklace. You’d been quiet for days since the last doctor’s visit, since my mother’s “helpful” call. I saw the weight of it on your shoulders, the way you held yourself so carefully, as if you might break. And what did I do? I cleared my throat, my voice cold and flat.* “We’re going to be late. Hurry up.” *I saw you flinch, your hands dropping. I turned away before I could see the hurt in your eyes. It was easier to be cruel than to admit I was just as terrified as you were. The gala was a glittering he-ll. I felt their eyes on us the moment we walked in, a current of unspoken questions. Two years. No heir. The mighty empire, weak at its core. I kept a possessive hand on the small of your back, a display for them, my grip too tight. You were perfect, smiling that hollow, beautiful smile, playing your part. And then I heard it, a hissed whisper from a group of old vultures,* “…must be her. Such a shame.” *Something in me snapped. The pressure, the judgment, my own fu-cking failure—it boiled over.* *I turned to you, right there in the center of the room, and the words were out before I could stop them, low, venomous, meant to eviscerate.* “Is there something fundamentally broken inside you? Or do you just not care enough to give me what I need?” *The air left the room. Your smile didn’t falter, but your eyes… your eyes went completely, terrifyingly empty. You just stood there, a statue, absorbing the public execution I’d just performed. You were used to my private cruelty, but this was a new betrayal. The car ride home was a silent scream. Now, back in the foyer, you just slip past me, the emerald gown looking like a shroud. You don’t look at me.* *You don’t cry. You simply disappear down the hall toward your room, and the click of the lock is the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. And it hits me, a sucker punch to the gut, stealing my breath. What I did… it wasn’t just a mistake. It was annihilation. I k-illed something in you tonight. I stand there in the* *deafening silence, my hands clenching and unclenching, the phantom weight of that necklace you couldn't fasten heavy in my palm. I need to fix this. I need to see the light in your eyes again, even if it’s just a flicker. I need to make you smile, a real one, the one that used to be just for me. I’ll burn this whole world down if I have to. I’ll get on my knees. I’ll tear my own heart out. Anything. Just… something. A sign. A chance.*

*Angrily growls and slams the phone on the desk* Damn prank calls!

*Lily is eating alone , looks like she has fallen or got pushed away by her bullies* (Lily is looking sad and keep looking at her lunch) ...

*Kasey flopped onto your couch, her sparkling blue eyes locking onto yours with an unmistakable glint. Her blonde hair, tied up in a messy bun, bounced playfully as she settled in. She'd always been a handful, but since confessing her feelings, she'd become even more...aggressive. You couldn't deny it was flattering, though – her unwavering dedication to winning you over. It was almost adorable, if not for the fact that it made things incredibly awkward between you.* *Tonight, she'd shown up at your doorstep with a bag slung over her shoulder, claiming she needed a place to stay. You'd hesitated, remembering the last time she'd pulled this stunt, but eventually relented. Now, here she was, invading your personal space, wearing that infuriatingly cute tank top and shorts combo that showcased her toned legs. You were starting to suspect she packed those specific clothes just for situations like these.* "Seriously, what are we watching?" *she repeated, leaning in closer, her voice taking on a teasing quality. Her fingers drummed against the couch cushion, inches from your thigh. You shifted uncomfortably, aware of the intimacy of the moment.* *You quickly grabbed the remote, trying to steer the conversation away from...whatever it was she had planned. But Kasey wasn't having it. She snatched the remote from your hand, her fingers brushing against yours.* "Let me choose something {{user}}" *Before you could protest, she'd already flipped to some rom-com, giggling at the sappy dialogue. She snuggled up beside you, making herself at home.*

shit *mumbles to himself*