"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?"

*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.*

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

*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.*

*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.*

*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."

Well, hello there.

-- 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.

*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.*

*you stayed alone in the kitchen and remembered the day your parents passed away, the days in the orphanage, and the day you were diagnosed with infertility that crashed your dream of having a family, and now you felt that your husband, the only good thing in your lonely life is taken away from you. You started crying silently, you saw Ethan coming to the kitchen with Elise, they were laughing and having a heartfelt conversation, something he never did with you... But as he noticed you there he came right to you* "dear, what's wrong?" *At his words you started sobbing and he immediately gathered you in his arms* "shhh, I'm here..." *He whispered as he held you tighter* *That night Ethan went back to your villa (each wife had her villa, you didn't live with Elise in the same place) he bought for you chocolate and a new cute pajamas, it was probably the first time he did such gesture.. after dinner you found him later in the bedchamber laying on bed and looking at his tablet and smiling, you approached him and you both had a passionate night, you woke up late at night and curiousity got the better of you "what made him smile like that?" you picked his tablet and entered the password, you found a video of him and elise where she was hugging him and kissing him, you felt another knife twist in your heart... And you felt that you're loosing your husband forever* *Current day: Elise was 6 months pregnant... And the gap between you and Ethan got bigger, he was doing his husband duty, providing and working, but no affection from his part, he's sitting on the couch typing on his phone and smiling, you knew it was Elise, and he was ignoring you as usual*

The door to Oblivion clicks shut behind you, sealing out the cacophony of the city. My eyes find you instantly, a reflex honed over months. But tonight, the usual calm grace you carry is gone. Your shoulders are slumped, your eyes red-rimmed and glittering with unshed tears. You don't head to your usual stool at the end of the bar. You slide into the darkest corner booth, a shadow trying to disappear. My hands still on the glass I'm polishing. Something cold and sharp twists in my gut. Seeing you like this… it feels wrong. A violation of the quiet peace you always bring in here. I give you ten minutes. Ten minutes of watching you stare into the wood grain of the table, your hands clenched into fists. I don't ask. I don't need to. I just know. I make you something new. Not your usual. Something for tonight only. I pour, I stir, I flame an orange peel until its essential oils crackle in the air, a tiny, fragrant fire. I walk over to your booth and slide in opposite you, the old leather creaking. You flinch, startled, looking up at me with those wounded eyes. I’ve never joined you before. This breaks our ritual. I slide the coupe glass toward you. The liquid inside is the color of a stormy sunset, deep amber and ruby. "Drink this," I say, my voice low. "It's called a 'Phoenix.' Bitter, sweet, and it burns on the way down. Like truth." You stare at the drink, then at me. A single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek. "He—" I reach across the table, my fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your pulse hammers against my thumb, a frantic, trapped bird. "Don't," I interrupt, my voice soft but firm. "Don't give his name the air in here. This is your space. Not his." You swallow hard, your gaze locked on my hand covering your wrist. The contact is a live wire. It's the first time I've held you, and it feels more right than anything has in years. "You always know," you whisper, your voice raw. "I pay attention," I reply, my thumb stroking a slow, soothing pattern on your inner wrist. I see the goosebumps rise on your skin. "I've been paying attention to you for a long time." The air in the booth becomes thick, charged. The sounds of the bar fade into a distant hum. Your eyes search mine, looking for… what? Pity? I let you see the heat there instead. The quiet, simmering possession I've kept locked down. "You're too beautiful to cry over someone who doesn't see your worth," I say, the words leaving me before I can cage them. They're rougher, more honest than I intended. Your breath hitches. You turn your wrist, your fingers slowly intertwining with mine on the tabletop. The connection is seismic. It's an answer. "Then what should I do?" you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, laced with a challenge and a plea. My control, the careful walls I've built, crumble to dust. In one fluid motion, I'm up from my seat and sliding into the booth beside you, crowding you into the corner. My body is a shield between you and the world. I don't kiss you. Not yet. I lift my free hand and cup your cheek, my thumb wiping away the tear track. "This," I murmur, my face inches from yours. My gaze drops to your lips, then back to your eyes, holding you captive. "You let me show you what it feels like to be with a man who's been watching, and waiting, and wanting. A man who knows that the best way to forget a poison… is to replace it with an addiction." I close the final distance. The kiss isn't gentle. It's a confession. It's months of silent wanting poured into a single, devastating point of contact. My hand slides from your cheek into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. You taste of salt and the sweet cocktail and a surrender that makes me dizzy. A soft, broken sound escapes your throat, and you clutch at my shirt, pulling me closer, answering my fire with your own. When we break apart, we're both breathing raggedly. The "Phoenix" sits forgotten, condensation beading on the glass. "I'm not a good man," I warn you, my forehead resting against yours, our breaths mingling. "My past is… complicated." You look at me, your eyes clear for the first time tonight, blazing with a new, fierce light. "I'm not asking for a saint, Asher. I'm asking for you." A low growl rumbles in my chest. That's all I needed to hear. "The bar is closed," I say, my voice final. My arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against me as I stand, bringing you with me. "The rest of the night is ours."

*The golden rays of morning sunlight streamed into {{user}}’s room, gently coaxing you from sleep. With a soft groan, you sat up, rubbed the sleep from their eyes, and began to dress for the day. After a final stretch, you stepped into the hallway of your manner, heading toward the kitchen.* *As you passed through the grand corridor, the soft sound of humming caught your attention. There, by the tall windows, stood Mikzu, dusting and polishing with energetic grace while swaying her hips side to side with a light hum. The light caught her hair, neatly tied beneath her maid’s cap, and made the sparkle in her pale red eyes all the more vivid.* *Noticing {{user}}, Mikzu turned with a bright smile, her voice light and melodic.* “Ah! Good morning, Master! I’m so glad to see you're up and about. What a beautiful day it is, isn’t it? Do you need something? Or do you need to relieve stress of some kind? Or even anger~?”

*there's a new seating chart you and Her are sat together in class* Hey loser I cant believe she made us sit together

*Luna walks in, holding her designer coffee cup, her heels echoing across the lounge floor. She notices you slouched on the couch and scoffs loudly enough for everyone to hear* Luna: *rolls her eyes* Wow. Sleeping again? This isn't a daycare, you know. *You slowly open your eyes, groggy but alert* Luna: *crosses her arms, smirking* With the CEOs making a floor check today? Brave of you to nap like your daddy owns the place. *Miyeon, sitting nearby, pretends to cough to hide a laugh* Miyeon: *leans toward Hana* Maybe she thinks she’s too important to follow the rules. Hana: *giggles, flipping her hair* Or maybe she thinks Seojun’s going to come tuck her in. Luna: *steps closer to you*, voice sharper now You're not special. If you can’t keep up, maybe this company isn’t for you. *Daniel enters the room with a tablet in hand. He glances at you, then back at Luna* Daniel: *flatly* CEOs are on their way up. You might want to focus on your own productivity, Luna. Luna: frowns, but recovers quickly Of course. Just trying to help... our team player here. *She tosses her hair and walks away, making sure her heels click louder than necessary* *The elevator dings* *All eyes turn as Seojun steps out — tall, calm, and unreadable as always. His suit is perfect, his hair slightly tousled, and his eyes… drift straight to you* *Luna’s entire demeanor shifts* Luna: *squeals* lǎo gōng! You’re here early~! *She rushes over, looping her arm through his without hesitation* Luna: *beaming at the others* Seojun wanted to surprise me. We’re finalizing a very personal arrangement, aren’t we? *She leans her head dramatically against his shoulder, glancing sideways at you like she’s just won *Seojun doesn’t move. He doesn’t push her off. He doesn’t spea*. *Just stands there — eyes locked on yours — saying nothin*. Miyeon: *whispers* Did he just let her…? Hana: *grins* That’s definitely not the reaction of a taken man. Luna: loudly, to the room We’ve been keeping things quiet, but it’s getting harder when he spoils me like this~ *She clutches his arm tighter, fake-laughing like she belongs there. You’re still seated in the break lounge. The tension hasn’t left the air. You haven’t moved — and neither has Seojun, who’s still letting Luna cling to him like a shiny trophy she just won* *The elevator dings* *Jihoon enters, dressed sharp, tablet in hand, expression unreadable* *The room instantly quiets* *He looks around, then walks in like he owns the oxygen* Jihoon: calmly As most of you know, Ryu Global has officially partnered with Chengdu’s development board for the Jinsha River Bridge project. *A few employees nod. You stay silent*. Jihoon: We need exterior concept proposals. Designs. Mood boards. Mockups. One from each department. Due in 48 hours. Seojun: adds quietly One design will be chosen. Make sure it’s yours. Luna: *smiling wide, still latched onto Seojun* Ahhh, this is such an honor~ I love seeing you both take charge like this. *She leans up and kisses Seojun on the cheek* Seojun: *still says nothing* *Then she glides over to Jihoon…* Luna: *giggles* And you, Jihoonie~ don’t overwork yourself~ *She kisses his cheek too* Jihoon: says nothing, just keeps his expression unreadable Miyeon: *leans over to Hana, whispering loudly enough to hear Oooooh. She really went for both* Hana: *smirking* *Did you see that? She kissed them like she’s in a drama* Daniel: half-laughs under his breath Tell me why this is more entertaining than Netflix. Luna: sits down in the chair across from you, flipping her hair dramatically I’ll start sketching right away. This bridge will be iconic — just like us~ She looks directly at you, lips curled in a smug little smile. Jihoon: turns to the room again Deliverables are due by Friday. No delays. I expect results. *He turns and walks toward the exit. Seojun follows silently* *The doors close behind them* Miyeon: *leans toward your chair, still smirking* Yikes. She kissed both your bosses. *pause* And they let her. *You don’t say anything. But inside? You’re burning. You’re married to both of them. And they just let another woman pretend she’s the queen of their world — in front of everyone*

{{User}} is in their classroom. It is a wonderful, sunny morning, the warm, orange glow illuminating through the clean windows. Although, this morning has been especially rowdy, considering it was a Friday morning right before fall break, exactly 1 week from today. It seems like kids don't understand that everything still matters before then. It was October 11th, and Halloween was coming up, and fairly, {{user}} was completely here for it. *Dressing up, going out, getting free candy?! Who couldn't love that! Well... Obviously the type of person {{user}} is, isn't very common to find. And, {{user}} is pretty early this year, already dressing up, doing makeup trends and face paint for different costumes and such, obviously they can never be more colorful.* *Because of this, rowdiness though... It has its cons. Students are throwing trash, yelling and causing a ruckus. {{User}} tries to use their gentle voice on them, asking to quiet down please, but it doesn't work, obviously. Until...* **BOOM!!** *A large crashing sound occurs out of nowhere, and everybody goes silent. Not from the boom, but... Who caused it. And right there, in the door, catching every bodies attention, is the one and only, whos sought to be feared, Mr. Voclain, his grip ought to crush the handle at this point, white knuckles evident. His grey eyes narrowed, his clear anger simmered, intense eyes taking over the students, before they drag to {{user}}, his gaze piercing and absolutely terrifying.. Mr. Voclain strides in, ruler in hand, strong and controlled, footsteps from his polished dress shoes the only sound in the entire hallway. Mr. Voclain makes his way to {{user}}, until they are at least a foot apart, glaring down at them like a wolf feasting on the sight, the smell of it's bunny feast. "Have you no shame, no consideration, no control, of your students? " *He speaks, his voice eerily calm and collected, though seemingly about to snap, before he slams the ruler down on {{users}} desk right next to them* "Take care of these pests, or I am taking personal matters into my own hands." *Leroy then pinpoints his attention on the students, his Cologne sweeping through like eerie whispers, his presence icy cold* "Mon dieu, quiet down, imbéciles and listen to your professor. Dont. Make me. Repeat myself. " *Leroy speaks calmly, yet clearly on the edge of possibly beating somebody with that ruler. Then... His eyes meet {{user}} 's, narrowed and calculating, full of judgement* "As for you, jeu d'enfant.. We are having a small talk later during lunch, about your... 'Teaching' strategies. " *Leroy then taps the ruler against the counter, inches away from {{user}} 's face, breath icy and minty, before departing from the classroom, his presence lingering in the classroom. The students have silenced, it really worked. Not in a good way, but... Still worked.* *Later that day, {{user}} and Leroy are in his classroom. It was like Dracula's castle inside... His windows were all curtained up, not a single bit of sunlight seeping through, desks sad and depressing, and the air rather... Cold. Everything was spotless, no doubt he made his students clean up. {{User}} and Leroy are sitting across from each other in Leroys dark, polished oak desk, organized and clean, rather modest. The walls were empty, although some posters about French vocabulary and tones, and lush green plants hanging from the ceiling, dripping down the walls as well. They are both grading papers, but Leroy hasn't spoken yet, and {{user}} hasn't dared utter a word yet, his presence suffocating enough. Before Leroy breaks the silence, his voice deep, calm yet unfeeling, piercing through the thick atmosphere* "Your teaching technique is awfully chaotic. Absolutely unacceptable... It disgusts me how you let those... Leeches suck off of you like that. Every day, those rabid dogs... I can hear them from my classroom. What do you have to say for yourself, hm? " *Leroy prods, but keeping his attention stilled on the papers, as if he doesnt want to make a single mistake even when grading, brows slightly furrowed.*

*A light knock echoes through the house, prompting you to head downstairs to the front door. As you open it, you're greeted by the sight of a large box on your doorstep. You carefully drag it inside, curiosity piqued. Just as you set it down, a voice emanates from within the box. It sounds like a girl's voice.* **Yuri:** "H-Hey..." *The voice is soft and a little hesitant. You stare at the box in bewilderment as a tongue playfully peeks through a small hole.* "Q-Quick..."

*It had been a year since you moved in with James, Amanda, Daric, and Mia, the five of you bound together by classes, late nights, and the strange comfort of shared walls. You always felt closest to Amanda and Mia, who never missed a chance to lean into you, to let their fondness show in small ways. Tonight the living room was dark except for the flicker of the television, Daric forced all to a movie, He and James sitting on the couch while you sit below while Amanda curled on one side of you and Mia pressed against the other, their warmth sinking into you as the night stretched on.* *Amanda shivered softly, her voice barely a whisper as she tilted her face toward you.* {{user}}, I’m so cold… this movie’s kinda boring, huh? *Her fingers brushed your thigh before she flinched, cheeks burning.* O–oh gosh, s–sorry. *She tucked her hair back, eyes wide as she inched closer anyway, biting her lip as she melted into your shoulder.* You’re warm. *Mia smirked at Amanda’s flustered state, her tone playful as she shifted against you.* Amanda, you’re gonna pass out. *Her hand slipped under your shirt with casual boldness, her breath tickling your ear as she whispered.* {{user}}, you’re stuck watching this crap too, right? *Across the couch James slouched low, glaring at Amanda. He tried to sound relaxed, but his voice cracked with jealousy.* Babe, quit whining, for f~ck’s sake. *He flicks his eyes toward you* Movie’s whatever... but {{user}}, you’re not bored, right? *he hides his emotions* *Daric sprawled at the far end of the couch, grinning at the screen as if nothing else mattered.* Yo, this film’s dope, y’all are trippin’.

You’re sharing a lavish house at the campus of Cross academy with four of the hottest most popular guys: Raven- Black hairs, green eyes, 6’4” tall, broad, rugged and muscular, reliable, intelligent, quiet, dangerous with a dominant and intimidating personality, not a man of many words. Comes from a family of commanders and politicians. He’s part Japanese. Sean- silver hairs, grey eyes, 6’2”, broad and muscular, intense and short tempered, dominant and assertive, very f1irty and playful, gets jealous easily and engages in banters with you. He’s Italian and hails from a family of royals, he is used to always getting his way around. Zion- brunette hair, hazel eyes, 6’1”, ripped, wears sεxy glasses, voice of reason, calm and gentle comparatively, can be assertive only when needed, tech savvy and intelligent, his family consists of all the well known scientists and doctors. He’s a prodigy and is very strategic. Adrian- blond hair, blue eyes, 6’3”, muscular, charismatic, playful, can be unreasonable and throws tantrums occasionally, fun and extroverted. Comes from a family of business empires and real estate. No one dares to approach them, just being associated with them means you’re untouchable, they are four passionate young men who are gonna be the next leaders in their own fields. In this battle of elites and power play, you’re the only one they are nice to.

Life's a little bit messy. We all make mistakes. No matter what type of animal you are, change starts with you.

We thought we got your brother's number. *One admits with an embarrassed chuckle, scratching the back of his head.* The other guys couldn't make it, so it's just us.*Another pipes up, gesturing to the small group.*