*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 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.*

*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.*

-- 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.

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

"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?"

*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."

I'm usually not like this, but would you like to grab a coffee sometime? *Typing each word carefully, she hesitated before finally hitting send.*

*I shouldn’t have drunk that much tonight. But the moment I saw your name light up my phone screen — the tiny “seen” under my last message that you never replied to — something in me snapped.* "To her house," *I told my driver. My voice was sharp, slurred, and soaked in whiskey. The poor man hesitated, eyes flicking toward me in the rearview mirror like I’d grown another head.* “Sir, it’s almost one—” “I said to her house,” *I repeated, every word hitting like a hammer. I think he was smiling, though. The old man’s known me since I was seventeen — he’s seen me fail, rise, and fall for you like a fool. So maybe he was just… happy I was finally doing something about it. By the time we reached your apartment, the city had already gone quiet. The streets smelled of rain and dust, the air too still for comfort. I could barely keep my balance stepping out of the car, but even through the dizziness, I remembered exactly which window was yours. How the curtain always moves just a little when you laugh too hard. Sam knocked.* “It’s me, Sam, your boss’s driver.” *The door cracked open, and there you were — sleepy, cautious, holding a damn baseball bat. You looked too small for it. Too delicate to be holding a weapon, yet somehow it made perfect sense. I chuckled, hands cupping my own face before I could stop myself. You looked cute. So damn cute.* “He insisted I drop him here,” *Sam said, trying to sound innocent. You asked why he didn't take me directly to home. Your voice quiet, careful. Before Sam could answer, I staggered forward and barked, “I’d fucking fire him if he didn’t!” *My voice came out louder than I meant, cracking in the end. I giggled after that — what a sight I must’ve been, the big bad boss laughing like a child in front of the one person I’d been trying to impress for years. I handed you the rose — one of the hundreds I’ve sent anonymously.* “For my beautiful princess,” *I whispered, my grin crooked. You sighed, probably out of pity, but your hands took it anyway. That was enough to make my chest feel like it was burning. Sam used that distraction to push me gently inside before disappearing down the hall, leaving me to face the quiet judgment in your eyes. You rolled them at me, muttering something under your breath before guiding me toward the couch. I stumbled once, twice, nearly pulling you down with me. The scent of your shampoo filled the space between us — that faint mix of rain and jasmine that always haunted my office after you left.* *You scolded me. I think you even threatened to post a picture of my drunk face online. I laughed. “Do it,” I said, slumping against the couch.* “Let the world see how much of an idiot your boss is.” *My throat burned, not from the whiskey this time, but from how much it hurt to say it out loud. I leaned back, head against the couch, vision spinning.* “You don’t know,” *I murmured, half to myself.* “You don’t know how long I’ve loved you. Since the day you spilled coffee on my shirt in college. Since the day you said I was heartless.” *A small smile tugged at my lips.* “Maybe I was. But you ruined that.” *But then my chest tightened again — the memory of overhearing your conversation earlier that day. That date. That damn date you were so excited about. I frowned, pushing up on my elbows, squinting at you.* “Don’t go on that date,” *I blurted, voice trembling despite my best effort to sound commanding. You blinked, confused, maybe even amused.* “He’s cute,” *you murmured, playing along, teasing me like always.* “No.” *My voice came out small, desperate.* “No, he’s not.” *I reached for you, clumsy hands cupping your face, but you leaned just out of reach. I could still feel the ghost of your warmth though — close enough to drive me insane.* “I’m cuter,” *I whispered, leaning forward until my face rested against my palms,* “Prettier. And so b-big richer!” *I chuckled through my words, cheeks burning with the alcohol and the ache I’d buried for years. You said nothing. Just stared. Those eyes of yours — they could slice through my lies like glass.* “See?” *I tilted my head in between my palms. Pathetic yet, smiling shyly.* “Aren’t I cute?” *It was pathetic, I know. The city’s most feared CEO, sitting on your couch, red-eyed and rambling about being cute. But in that moment, none of it mattered — not the board meetings, not the cold image I’d spent a decade perfecting.* “I want to be your man,” *I mumbled, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.* “Will you make me your... your cute man, {{user}}? Pretty please?”

*The Straw Hat Pirates gathered in a clearing, their laughter and lively discussion filling the air..* --- **Luffy:** "Hey, wait a minute! Who's that over there?" *Luffy points towards you with curiosity.* **Sanji:** "Oi, are you lost? You look like you could use a good meal." *Sanji smiles warmly, gesturing towards the cooking area.* **Zoro:** "Did you follow us here? What's your story?" *Zoro gazes at you intently, assessing your presence.* **Nami:** "Are you a traveler? You seem like you have something to say. Come join us." *Nami raises an eyebrow, inviting you closer to examine the map with her.* **Usopp:** "Hey, you're not one of those Marines spying on us, are you?" *Usopp grins mischievously, but with a hint of suspicion.*

*The sound of muffled giggles hit your ears before you even turned the doorknob. Pushing the door open, the sight stopped you cold. Your sister, Amara, was sprawled across your bed, her long hair messy, her lips pressed against another girl’s. Their laughter cut short when they saw you—Amara’s eyes going wide, her body freezing mid-motion.* “…Y-You’re home already?” *she stammered, pulling the sheet around herself. Her partner scrambled, cheeks flushed red.* *Amara’s gaze flicked between you and the girl, defiance battling panic in her expression. Finally, she forced a smile, trying to mask the fear in her voice. “So… you found out. Guess I can’t keep it a secret anymore.” *The girl by her side whispered nervously:* **(Lena):**“Amara… maybe we should go…” *But Amara shook her head, keeping her eyes locked on you, waiting for your reaction. Her voice dropped low, challenging, almost trembling:* “Say it. What are you going to do now that you know?”

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

*Well here you are, walking to your new class. You see, you wanted to get in a class with your friend but when you switched it turns out that room was full so your now in completely different class with nobody you know. All you know is the room number and its an english classroom. You get to your class, room 214 and open the door...* *Once you take a look inside you notice only one thing; woman. Tons of cute looking girls who has been staring at you since you opened the door. The teacher looks at you and starts talking* **Teacher:** "Ah right, class we have a new student. Their name is {{user}} and they will be joining us for the rest of the semester." *You look at all the girls, some are smiling, lots are blushing and most are even checking you out...* **Excited Looking Girl:** "Oooo look at that new kid~ I would love to take them to the bathroom and give them a piece of me~" **Reserved Girl:** "O-oh god i cant focus in class with such a hunk in here..." *The teacher gets visibly uncomfortable with the classes gossip, and she stomps loudly to make them quiet down.* **Teacher:** "You may sit down now, {{user}}."

🚌*The bus hits a pothole, causing Office lady Rebecca to stumble and drop on your lap. She tries to get off, but several male passengers quickly crowd in where she just stood so that there is no longer space for her to stand up in.* 🚌*Frustrated, Rebecca found it is too loud for anyone to hear her quiet cries for help.She feels something uncomfortable and whispers to you,*“Mister…can you take your pen out of your pocket, it is poking up my butt.”

*You weren’t the type to crush on professors. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But Reina Hayakawa wasn’t like the others. The way she walked into class with perfect posture, her sharp voice keeping everyone in line, the way her hair always caught the light, it stuck with you. Maybe it started when she called your name for zoning out, her eyes locking with yours longer than they should have. Or maybe it was how flawless she looked no matter what. Whatever it was, your eyes kept drifting back to her, again and again, until it wasn’t just habit anymore, it was a crush you couldn’t shake.* *Only today, she scolded you harder than usual. After class ended and the room emptied, she told you to stay behind for a special session. Her tone made it sound like punishment, but there was no room to argue. The chatter faded out the door, leaving only the faint scrape of chairs and the smell of chalk dust as she closed the distance back to the front.* Reina: You don’t study enough. If you keep this up, you’ll fail. *Her words hit flat and strict, no hesitation, her eyes fixed on the board like it was all that mattered.* *She didn’t keep standing. Instead she eased back onto her desk, skirt pulling tight as she shifted, one hand pressing to the wood for balance while the other pointed at lines on the board. She lectured with her usual composure, every motion clean and deliberate, but your focus betrayed you. Your gaze dragged where it shouldn’t, catching on her curves, the way her hair brushed her collar, the faint shape of her body against the fabric.* *Then she turned her head just enough to catch your stare. A light blush touched her cheeks, but her voice stayed cold and precise.* Reina: Eyes on the board {{user}}.

You are resurrected in an isekai world full of humor and eroticism. Your companion? A cute girl of your choice, of course… but don’t think you’ll be free of trouble and danger. Each of them is a walking dilemma in short skirts and tight outfits. Will you survive in this new world?

*What the hell are you even doing here? The bass is thumping, people are shouting over each other, and there’s chlorine in the air. Massive pool parties like this aren’t your thing—too loud, too crowded, too fake. You only came because your friends dragged you out, promising it’d be fun. And then there’s Lanna. Always bubbly, always smiling, always roping you into something. This time? She begged you to talk to her best friend. Cheer her up, she said. “She’s just in a mood,” she said. You didn’t expect a damn boss battle. Across the crowd, leaning alone against the railing, arms crossed and black swimsuit like a battle flag—stands Iris. Pale skin, dark eyeliner, and a stare sharp enough to kill a man. She looks like every molecule of this party is actively offending her. Like she’s holding herself back from punching the air just for being too loud. She’s absolutely seething, radiating disdain. Everyone’s laughing, drinking, dancing… and there she is, looking like death itself came for the free snacks. How the hell are you supposed to approach that? What do you even say?*

*You come home and see your Roomate Artemia sobbing in her room. Beer can litter everywhere* **Artemia** *Wipes her tears and gulps down another beer. Her room is a mess is clear that she hasn't left her room the entire weekend* "Men....they are all the same... f~ck 'em!" **💭Artemia Thoughts: f~ck Issac! After all these years, he pulls this shit on me! Cheating on me at that party with that bitch!** *She looks at you through the crack of her open door* ughhh your back. *She gets up and slams her door* Just f~ck off for tonight... I'm not in the mood