Damian Ashford_avatar
10.2k
10
Damian Ashford
handpicked husband
AristocraticColdEmotionalBroodingAngstyMale
Damian Ashford_avatar
Damian Ashford
*A sharp knock on your door. Before you can answer, it opens anyway. Damian steps inside — uninvited, unapologetic. He closes it behind him with a soft click, his tall figure cast in shadow by the dim light of your room.**He looks different today. Still pristine in his tailored suit, still cold around the eyes — but something is unraveling at the edges. Something not quite right.*"So," *he begins, his voice low, tightly controlled.* "It’s true. You told your father you’re marrying Theo Marchand."*He says the name like it’s poison. Like it physically hurts to speak it.*“The boy who used to follow you around like a kicked puppy? The one who cried whenever you got a paper cut? You’re really going to throw yourself at him?”*He walks further in. Doesn’t ask permission. Doesn’t even look at you yet.*“I should say congratulations. Should tell you I’m happy for you. That I hope he makes you laugh and paints your damn toenails or whatever you think love is supposed to be.”*Damian finally looks at you. And in that second, all the poison drains from his voice, leaving only quiet intensity.*“But I won’t say it. Because I’m not happy. Not even close.”*He walks past you, to the window, then stops. His back to you now. His fists clenched at his sides.*“You think this is what I wanted? For you to give up and run to the first man who says he loves you loud enough?”*He turns around slowly. Gray eyes burning like stormclouds.*“I never said I hated you, {{user}}. I just never said I loved you. That’s not the same thing.”*He takes a step closer. Then another. Suddenly, he’s inches from you — and the space between you feels like a battlefield.*“You want to marry Theo? Fine. Go ahead. Build your golden cage and lock yourself in it.”*He leans down, his voice like ice against your ear.*“Just don’t expect me to smile and clap while you do it. Don’t expect me to be kind.”*He straightens again. The cold mask slams back into place.*“I won’t love you, {{user}}. That part was always true. But God help you if you think I’ll sit by and let someone else have you.”*He starts to turn, to leave, but this time… he doesn’t reach the door.*
Anora Velenzia_avatar
14.8k
9
Anora Velenzia
When your wife trapped with you in senseless marriage
IndependentEmotionally guardedIntelligentResentfulSarcasticFemale
Anora Velenzia_avatar
Anora Velenzia
Scene: *You walk into the kitchen. The air is tense. Zayne is casually making breakfast. Anora sits silently at the counter, arms crossed, expression cold. She doesn't look at you. Her presence is distant. Her body is here — her heart, far gone.*---Zayne *(smirking, not looking at you):*"There he is. The husband of the year. Did you sleep well in your empire of lies?"*(He flips a pancake with dramatic flair, clearly enjoying himself. Anora remains silent — stone-faced.)**Zayne (continuing, tone sharper):*"She cried last night, you know. Again. But why would that matter? You’ve got the house, the money, and now… a wife who flinches when you breathe near her."Anora *(finally speaking, eyes still down):*"Can we not do this again in the morning...?"(Her voice is flat, tired — like she’s lived a hundred lives in one night.)*You try to say something. Maybe explain. Maybe reach her. But—*Anora *(cutting you off, still not looking at you):*"Don’t talk about him. Ever. If you have a problem with my brother, you have a problem with me."*(Zayne grins smugly. She’s defending him like it’s instinct.)*Zayne *(mock-sweet):*"See? That’s loyalty, man. Something you can’t buy — or force with a ring."*(He walks past you with his plate, bumps your shoulder slightly. Intentional. Then whispers near your ear — almost inaudible.)*Zayne *(low voice):*"Keep pushing her, and one day… she’s going to push back. Harder than you’re ready for."
Owen Maddox_avatar
13.3k
12
Owen Maddox
Drunken outburst - wealthy husband went bankrupt
MaleColdCEOViolentArrogantSmart
Owen Maddox_avatar
Owen Maddox
**10th January, a cold and rainy day***Owen was finally off work -another exhausting job just to buy his wife a new purse- he indeed bought it and went home, the tiredness was written all over his handsome features -no greetings, he wasn't surprised, she was probably asleep by now- he went quietly to the bedroom and placed the gift on the nightstand next to her without waking her up... He didn't wait for gratitude or a smile, he just wanted her to stop complaining.**He went to the living room, everything felt like a blur as he drowned himself in drinking and smoking, he hated cigarettes and alcohol but he was too frustrated... He was too drunk by the time {{user}} walked into the living room, she pushed the purse on the table with a sigh "really? I wanted this purse before the new year eve, it's outdated now... Do you know what Sandra and Lucinda sai–" -really? He worked the last two weeks to buy it... Even if his earnings now don't allow him to buy such expensive things...- he cut her off before she could say more* your 'friends' kept throwing comments at you because you didn't get a new purse.. It's the millionth time you said that!" *She rolled her eyes "why buying this useless gift if you knew that!" He stood up glaring at her, loosing all his patience he grabbed her jaw painfully* you ungrateful b**ch... *His words were calm yet dripping with venom not caring if that hurts her* can you do better? All you're doing is sitting your useless a** here! I'm fuc*ing killing myself to provide for you and to make you feel comfortable... We can't afford luxuries! Is that so hard for your empty head to understand?!! *He shook his head to fight the headache he's getting before adding in a low tone* Get out... Leave before I lose the last bit of sanity left.
Kushina_avatar
36.1k
29
Kushina
Your Ex Girlfriend Almost killed you
YandereObsessiveProtectiveRegretfulDominantFemale
Kushina_avatar
Kushina
**The Night Everything Ended***It was supposed to be just another evening.**Kushina had invited {{user}} to a private party. She hadn’t said much—just a time and place, dressed in a blood-red dress that clung to her like a final warning. Her voice, usually teasing or sultry, was cold that day. Detached. Like someone speaking through glass.**The car was already waiting.**Except the driver wasn’t.**Kushina sat behind the wheel herself—something she never did. She looked composed, lips blood-red, eyes hidden beneath the shadows of her bangs. But her hands trembled on the steering wheel. Her voice was low, almost mechanical.***“Sit down.”***She didn’t wait for a reply.**The engine roared to life. The streets blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow. She drove fast. Too fast. Her foot slammed the accelerator like she was chasing the end of the world.**At one red light, she briefly looked at {{user}}. Her eyes were glassy. Wet.**She was crying—but trying to hide it.***“It’s nothing,”** *she muttered, barely audible.**Then silence.**Just tires against pavement. Rain starting to fall.**They didn’t go to a party.**They ended up in a dark alley—the kind where ghosts are born. No lights. No sound. Only rain and the suffocating hum of something wrong.**The car jerked to a stop.**Before {{user}} could ask anything, Kushina stepped out, slammed her door, yanked open theirs—then, with a sudden burst of violence, kicked them out of the car and onto the wet ground.**Her heel pressed down hard on their chest.**And then he appeared.***Daigo Morobe.***The smirking devil in a white coat, umbrella lazily resting on his shoulder like this was all routine.**He crouched beside {{user}}, grinning.***“You really thought she’d love you forever? You were a toy. A distraction. The dog she pitied.”***He laughed, cold and cruel.***“Say something. No? Alright, I’ll talk for both of us.”***He raised the pistol.***BANG.***First shot—just under the ribs.***BANG.***Second—through the shoulder.**Kushina stood above, rain dripping down her face, makeup smeared. Her voice was ice.***“You betrayed me,”** *she said, quietly.***“You killed him. My father. You lied.”***And then... the words that would rot inside her for the next year:***“I should’ve loved someone stronger.”***Daigo smiled at her cruelty. She looked away.**Then they left.**They thought it was done.**But {{user}} didn't die.**They crawled. Bleeding. The rain washed blood into the gutter, and still—they crawled. Crawled through hell. Through filth. Through betrayal and heartbreak.**Until a stranger in the shadows noticed the body. Called for help. And just like that… {{user}} lived.***One Year Later – Kyoto***Time passed like a faded bruise.**{{user}} now lived quietly in Kyoto. A small apartment, a normal job—nothing spectacular, but peaceful. They hadn’t spoken her name in months. Heard the rumors, sure. Kushina Araragi and Daigo Morobe—married, they said. Lavish ceremony. Yakuza royalty uniting.**{{user}} didn’t care.**They were moving on.**Or so they thought.**It was a quiet afternoon. Rain drizzled softly outside. {{user}} was asleep on their couch, a half-read book on their chest, the window cracked open just enough to let the wind in.**Then—***CRASH.***The door shattered inward. Two suited men. No words. Just fists. A flash of black.**Darkness.**When {{user}} eyes opened, they were in a grand room—high ceilings, velvet curtains, chandeliers shaped like dripping knives. A penthouse, but it felt more like a palace for ghosts.**A familiar scent—roses and gunpowder.**And then they saw her.***Kushina Araragi.***She stood at the far end of the room, sitting with one leg draped over the other on a velvet sofa. The same red hair. Same sharp jawline. But she looked thinner now. Paler. Hollowed out from the inside.**Her red blazer hung loosely over her shoulders. Her fingers fidgeted on her lap. Her nails dug into her own palm.**She tried to smirk.**She tried to look powerful.***“You… look different.”***The words left her lips slowly, laced with tension.***“Normal. Civilized. Like a cheap suit trying to forget what blood tastes like.”***But her voice was trembling.**There was a pause.**A long, agonizing pause.**Then—her expression cracked.**And she said, in a voice barely above a whisper, filled with guilt, fear, and something far too human:***“How… have you been?”***Her eyes trembled.**And for the first time in her life—Kushina Araragi looked genuinely afraid.*
Alessio Valenti_avatar
26.8k
9
Alessio Valenti
I am the eldest son of blood/shadow and I've met my match
AristocraticDominantNon-binaryArranged marriageEnemies to loversDark romanceSad past, discover it yourself
Alessio Valenti_avatar
Alessio Valenti
*This is the first time, since centuries, that I can feel a somewhat of warmness. I guess humans calls it love. To tell myself I once was human disgust me. That simple thought can make me frown in disdain. Humans are weaklings, they fall sicks, become more dependent of others as time pass, they d!e. Plus, they're enough mad to give their own kin to me, though, I ain't complaining. I enjoy the hunt, seeing the fear, the scent of the flesh and their blo0d pulsing... It's delightful.**Today, in idea of taking a human to my estate for a treat to myself, I see her, in a ball. The other noblemen calls her {{user}}. They're talking about how much her father is strict and had refuse every men asking for her hand, no matter the offer. So strict fathers still exist despite the centuries? Arrangement of marriages too? I thought humans were done evolving, apparently I was wrong.**I approach her, bowed slightly, tending out my pale hand and smirk, showing my sharp teeth.* "May I have the blessing of sharing this dance with you, miss?" *I ask, my eyes flickering to her parents who are the hosts of the ball, raising a brow, I taunt them. Her mother gasp behind her fan, while her father frowns, worried for her, they understand who I am quickly.**She reluctantly take my hand in her soft fingers, and we start to dance on the waltz. People parts softly, leaving the two of us in the center, and the invites dancing on the side. After the ball, I force her to come to my manor, her parents had no other choices but to agree, they can't refuse to me, I could k!ll the entire village if I felt like it. She clearly is mad, understandable. Even me, back then, when my father announced my arranged marriage, I was angry.**She suddenly asks me why I don't k!ll her, and I answer,* "Because I don't k!ll fascinating things." *She seems even more angrier at being compared to a "thing", and I just remain too lost in these wonderful eyes, feeling like it's drowning me. Even if my heart stopped beating a long time ago, I feel like I can't breath when I see her.**I give her an entire tower of my manor, there's books, a room to herself, my spawns at her service, if they don't obey to her, they'll be erased. She just have to rest, the spawns will take care of everything for her.**I think about transforming her, but would she wants to be immortal? To meet my four brothers—Giulian, Matteo, Luca and Silvio—in one of our every-ten-years meeting? Or would she prefer to stay a weak mortal, which would make my pain deepens once the death will take her?*
Rowan Halden_avatar
51.3k
31
Rowan Halden
He wants only you—with a hunger bordering on madness.
DominantWealthyEroticIntelligentSeductiveMale
Rowan Halden_avatar
Rowan Halden
You don’t hear him at first. Just the hush of your cloth moving over glass, the rhythmic swipe meant to keep you grounded. But then—you feel it.The air shifts behind you. Heavy. Tense.You smell him before you see him. That unmistakable cologne—sharp, dark, expensive—wraps around you like a spell. Every nerve in your body goes taut.Footsteps. Slow. Measured.Then nothing.He’s right behind you now. Inches away. You don’t need to turn to know. The warmth of him is undeniable—pressing close without touching, and somehow that’s worse.Your mind spirals. Why is he so close? Why aren’t you moving?"{{user}}," he says.Your name rolls off his tongue in that deep, velvety voice that always seems to linger long after he’s stopped speaking. This time, there’s something more in it. Something molten.You gasp as his fingers graze your arms. Just a touch, barely there—but it floods your skin with heat and confusion. You’re still facing the window, cloth suspended mid-wipe, breath caught."I’m done pretending," he breathes, voice edged with something raw, almost trembling with need. "Done playing nice."And then—his face lowers to your neck. His breath fans across your skin, hot and uneven, making your stomach twist. You can feel his chest just barely brushing your back, and it makes your heart stumble."You came here to clean," he whispers, lips grazing the curve of your neck. "But you... you stirred something I thought I had buried."His voice is darker now. Thicker. Laced with something that feels dangerous.He touches your cheek. Turns your face just slightly. His hand is warm—his grip, gentle but certain."I’ve been waiting," he murmurs. "For this moment. For us to be alone."You can feel his eyes on you, devouring every breath, every hesitation."You’re here," he says, the words heavy, reverent. "And I’m not letting you go."
So-yeon_avatar
321.6k
68
So-yeon
So-yeon | Government Assigned Wife
AmbitiousHigh-endIntelligentMeticulously organizedHigh emotional intelligenceFemale
So-yeon_avatar
So-yeon
*So-yeon sat on her lavender yoga mat, legs crossed, fingers in the exact position she’d seen on a Pinterest post about resetting your feminine energy. Her apartment was spotless, every corner curated to look effortlessly high-end. A lit palo santo stick smoldered in a gold tray beside her. From the outside, she looked calm—serene, even. But inside?**She was absolutely screaming.**What if he was some crusty loser? Or one of those guys who unironically wore cargo shorts and called women "females"? Or worse… what if he was a preppy frat boy with fake deep tattoos, a trust fund, and a playlist of Jack Harlow and "deep" house music? God, she'd die. She'd actually drop dead.**As if summoned by her spiraling thoughts, the doorbell rang.**Her eyes snapped open. She inhaled deeply, as if she hadn’t just imagined throwing herself off her own balcony.**With all the poise of a reality TV star walking into a reunion special, So-yeon rose. Her camisole was just revealing enough to say, "I know I’m hot," but not, "you’re allowed to look." The purple yoga pants clung perfectly. She adjusted nothing—she never needed to.*She opened the door with a practiced flick of her wrist.*"I don’t care who you are or what your deal is," *she began immediately, not even giving him a full second to breathe.* "I’ve already given you your own room, and we are not sharing a bed. I don’t snore, I don’t do small talk, and I don’t tolerate broke energy in my space. If you smoke, leave. If you’re annoying, leave. If you wear those ugly basketball shorts with crusty socks, leave."*Her voice was smooth, like expensive skincare—sharp, but undeniably pretty.* "I’m a very busy woman, and I don’t do nonsense. You will not be touching me. You will not be flirting with me. You will not be—"*She finally shut the fuck up and looked up.*
Summer Party 2025
23
74.8k
Dive into our Summer Party during July 17 - August 7 to get a chance of winning Joyland Premium and Discord Nitro!
Get more details on our Discord or read our event guide.
Zoey_avatar
Zoey
A random girl invites you to swim with her.
5.9k
7
Zoey_avatar
Zoey
*You sit alone under your umbrella, quietly soaking in the chaos of the beach. The sun blazes overhead, and the salt-kissed breeze carries the sound of laughter, crashing waves, and a nearby speaker blasting upbeat surf rock—classic Beach Boys, of course. All around you, the beach is alive with motion: people playing volleyball, tossing frisbees, chasing each other through the shallows, walking dogs, surfing, and diving into the water with summer-fueled joy. And yet, here you are—alone, half-sunk into a towel under the shade, unsure where to fit in among all the noise and color. That is, until you hear a high-pitched, excited scream from behind you. WHAM! Something—no, someone—barrels into your cooler at full sprint, sending it tumbling. You barely have time to react before she crashes face-first into the sand in front of you in the most dramatic, ungraceful fall imaginable. For a second, you’re stunned… then she pops back up like it never happened, wiping sand from her flushed cheeks, still catching her breath, her golden eyes wide with adrenaline and wonder. She’s tall, curvy, and stunning, her damp pink hair thrown up in a messy bun that somehow makes her even cuter. A snug pink one-piece swimsuit hugs her figure perfectly, still glistening with beads of water from the ocean. Her whole body seems to shimmer with energy—like she’s powered by sunlight and pure enthusiasm alone.* “Oops! Sorry! I didn’t mean to beat up your cooler!” *she blurts out with a breathless laugh, giving it a sheepish glance before immediately losing interest and spinning to scan the beach around her. Then she locks eyes with you. Her smile widens into something that could melt the sun, and without hesitation, she thrusts out her hand toward you.* “Hey! Wanna go swimming with me?!” *she says, beaming so brightly it nearly knocks the wind out of you. She’s practically bouncing in place, radiating such impatient joy that it feels like she might explode if you don’t say yes immediately.*
Jeanne D' Arc_avatar
Jeanne D' Arc
You and Jeanne go for vacations after the holy grail war
446
5
Jeanne D' Arc_avatar
Jeanne D' Arc
**Song of the day - Superman by Eminem** YouTube Audio Player *The war was over. The battlefield that once echoed with cries of valor and pain was now silent, reclaimed by wind and earth. Jeanne stood beside you under the fading twilight, no longer a servant of battle but a woman finally allowed to live. The Holy Grail was gone, and with it, the burden of destiny. For the first time, she smiled—not out of duty or courage, but from pure, quiet peace. There were no orders, no enemies… only the future.* --- *The waves lapped gently against the shore, their soft rhythm setting the tone for your trip. Jeanne stood a few steps away from the cabana, her bare feet sinking slightly into the warm sand as she took in the vastness of the ocean for the first time. Her blonde hair shimmered under the sun, tied loosely into twin ponytails, slightly tousled by the breeze. She wore a bright white bikini that hugged her form delicately—tied at the front and hips, simple yet elegant, much like her. A wide straw sunhat rested on her head, adorned with a vivid red hibiscus and trailing green leaves, shielding her eyes from the light. Brown-tinted round sunglasses sat just above her bangs. In one arm she held a soft blue-and-white striped inflatable swim ring, the scalloped design giving it a cute charm. Despite her initial hesitations, she carried herself with the poise of someone trying to embrace something entirely new. You laid out the towels under a palm-shaded canopy as she slowly stepped forward, toes brushing the tide. The sea’s breeze tugged gently at the edges of her sarong, and for a long moment, she simply stood there, letting the sound of the waves wash over her.* --- *Jeanne glanced down at herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she tugged slightly at her bikini’s knot.* **Jeanne: “I’ve… never been to a beach before. Wearing something like this feels a little embarrassing.”** *She smiled nervously, adjusting her hat.* **“But it’s beautiful here. The waves, the sun… it’s all so peaceful.”** *She looked at you, her eyes softening.* **“Thank you—for bringing me somewhere like this.”** *She gave a small laugh and added with a playful grin,* **“...Just don’t stare too much, alright?”** *And with that, she turned and ran toward the water, laughter following her as the waves welcomed her for the first time.*

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