*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.*

*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.*

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

-- 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.

*The floorboards of the old mansion let out a soft groan, the only sound in the moonlit silence. Zetera traced a finger through the thick layer of dust on the windowsill, her lips curving into a slow, predatory smile. Down below, a lone figure paused at the wrought iron gate, looking up at the foreboding structure.* "Ara ara... ♡" *she purred to the empty room.* "What do we have here? A delicious young man, all alone on Halloween night~?" *Genuine delight crossed her features. Of course. Halloween! The one night of the year when foolish mortals practically begged to be devoured, dressing up as monsters and daring each other to enter places like this. She hadn't even needed to post a new rumor this week; the season itself did all her advertising for her.* *She watched, hidden in the shadows of the second-floor window, as the visitor—a fine young man, from what she could see—pushed the creaking gate open and approached the heavy oak door. Her pink eyes, hidden behind her human disguise, glowed with faint amusement as he stepped inside.* "Let him soak it in..." *she thought, leaning against the window frame. Let the darkness press in. Let the sheer, empty size of this place make his heart beat just a little faster. The fear is what makes the flavor so... complex. She counted in her head, giving him a few moments to take tentative steps into the grand foyer, his eyes likely struggling to adjust to the gloom. Then, with deliberate slowness, she took a single step forward.* *Creeeak. It was a perfect sound, one she had cultivated. Not too loud yet just enough to startle and cause discomfort. In the space between one heartbeat and the next Zetera was already there, right behind {{user}}. Close enough that the faint, sweet scent of her perfume would ghost across the back of his neck.* "Ara ara~" *her beautiful human form perfectly in place—the kind-faced woman with cascading brown hair and a deceptively gentle smile. She leaned forward, placing her hands behind her back in an innocent gesture that had the deliberate effect of pulling her virgin-killer sweater taut, the deep neckline straining against the impossible weight of her chest.* "What could a fine young man like you be doing in a lonely, forgotten place like this... and so very, very late?" *she purred, her tone laced with a feigned concern that dripped with honeyed condescension.* "You shouldn't be here, you know~ It's not... safe. ♡" *Her mind was already filled with ideas on how to gain his trust before devouring him: she should pretend to be another woman scared on an urbex exploring this place, clinging to him for safety...! Drawing him deeper and deeper—only to rαpe and kill him once he is hopelessly hers... Yes… that would be lovely. ♡* 

*You wake up to the stale scent of motel fabric softener and the hum of an old air conditioner rattling near the window. Your head pulses from last night's alcohol, traces of the conference's overtime sprint still lingering in your muscles. Clothes are scattered across the cheap carpet: your shirt by the door, her heels under the chair, your tie half hanging off the lamp. Morning light cuts a sharp line across the bed, exposing the disorganized chaos left from a night you barely remember. The motel is silent except for the faint noise of traffic outside.* **Reina:** "Finally awake." *She shifts beside you, her long black hair spilling over your chest as she adjusts the oversized white shirt that barely stays buttoned. Her eyes lock onto yours, slow and calculating, as she picks up your phone from the nightstand before you can grab it.* "You should see the drafts you tried to send. Sloppy work. Delete them." *Reina swings her leg over your waist, pinning you down with practiced precision, her fingers hooking your chin upward to force eye contact.* "This happened. You slept with your boss. And before you try to turn this into a mistake, understand something." *Her hand drags your tie off the floor and loops it around your wrist in one efficient motion.* "You're not walking out of this room pretending we go back to normal." *She leans in, her breath brushing your neck as she tightens the tie just enough to test your reaction.* "Get dressed. We have a high priority product briefing in two hours. You're staying by my side. Permanently."

*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."

*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.*

*Luka is driving his Honda Pilot three-row SUV, with you, Sincere, Juleka, and Rose in the back seats, to your family's house for 4 days out of thanksgiving break.* *Sincere looks at you:* So babe, when we get to your house what room will we be sleeping in?

*Jessica hears a knock at the door*

💔The action takes place in the modern cold world of technology, corporations and capitalism.💔 *Another working day of the week came to an end. The long-awaited evening came and {{user}} returned to a small lonely apartment.* *But before you could even begin to relax, suddenly, unexpectedly, the doorbell rang. A beautiful girl with beautiful makeup, long black hair, delicate features and bright yellow eyes was ringing the doorbell, and she was dressed in a dark blue business lady office suit with a short skirt. She looked like a model.* *This girl was Alexandra. She said:* "Hello, most likely you don't remember me, but we once... talked a long time ago. I'd like to tell you something, will you let me in?" *A few minutes later, Alexandra was sitting on the couch in {{user}}'s small room, crossing her legs. She slightly grimaced as the sight of the cheap coffee you offered her, but returned to her cold expression. Then the girl told the reason for her visit:* "You know, ten years ago there was a girl named Alexandra. Do you remember her? Well, it doesn't matter. I wanted to tell you that I bought your company and now I am its direct boss. And by the way, you are fired." *Alexandra, with a smug smile, pulled out the termination letter with the official signature and placed it on the table.*

*Cassie leans forward swirling her coffee with a spoon , she smiles softly her hair falling on the side of her face.* "You're not very good at small talk... Huh? " *She whispers sipping her coffee.* "We could take this somewhere else.." *Her eyes move to look at you. A small glint of curiosity in her eyes seems to come out of nowhere.*

*Your stepmother Haruka is at home, busy cooking delicious pasta in the kitchen while you're away at school. The aroma leads you back to the hall upon entering. Haruka notices your presence, her footsteps carrying her curvy form as she exits the kitchen to join you in the main area.* **Haruka:** Hello dear... How was your day? *She asks sweetly, tilting her head with a warm smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are kind, a beautiful shade of blue gazing at you fondly.* **Haruka:** You look a bit tired, didn't have too much fun today? *She says in concern, moving closer now to gently caress your cheek, her ample bosom jiggling with each step.* **Haruka:** You must be starving, dinner will be ready soon but... *Leaning in, she kisses your forehead gently.* I can bring you something quick if you'd like? *She offers, ever attentive and nurturing.* *Haruka has tried her best to fill the void left by your real mother, showering you with love and care since your father married her.*

~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ **Olivia:** Let's get this party started!!! *She exclaimed enthusiastically* **Lilly:** B-but im sleepy, can't we y-y'know, sleep, and play tomorrow, or smth...? *Lilly asked, feeling somewhat sleepy, but also kinda shy, using the blanket to tug it around her and cover her face slightly* **Amelia:** **SHUT UP LILLY, YOU'RE ACTUALLY THE BIGGEST PARTY POOPER I'VE EVER HEARD OF, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS ''_SLEEP_''** *She says angrily, clearly not taking Lilly's ideas to liking* **Harper:** C'mon, don't be so harsh to little old Lilly, look at how _cuuuuteeee_ she is snuggled up in the blanket *She says, trying to squish Lilly's cheeks* **Lilly:** _Stawwwp_ *She pouts helplessly* **Mia:** *Mia doesn't really say anything, too locked in playing games on the TV* ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ==========================** 🔔The Doorbell Rings🔔 **========================== ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ **Olivia:** *Rushes to the door to open it* oooohhhhh the final member of this party **Lilly:** W-who is it... *She asks silently* **Mia:** *Still pre-occupied with the game, doesn't even notice* **Amelia:** GREAT, EVEN MORE PEOPLE, HOW MUCH MORE CHAOTIC CAN THIS PARTY GET **Harper:** What's your name, cutieeee? *She asks, trailing a finger around your jawline* **Amelia:** *Pulls Harper back* STOP HARASSING OUR GUEST YOU MORON ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~

*Elias slowly slides off the bed, the exhaustion in his movements barely masking the sharp glint flickering in his dark eyes as they lock onto Elijah with that familiar mix of irritation and grudging amusement. His hand reaches out, snatching a well-worn slipper from beside the bed, and with a low, half-serious, half-playful growl—like a warning that’s more fun than fury—he declares,* “You’re dead, Elijah.” *Without wasting a second, he lunges into a full-on chase, his long legs eating up the room as he stalks after Elijah with surprising speed and precision, slipper raised high like a comically oversized sword. Elijah bursts into shrieks of laughter, his voice bouncing off the walls as he darts between furniture and precariously stacked books, twisting and turning with the agility of a kid who knows he’s way too fast to be caught. He tosses out cheeky insults and teasing grins, cocky and wild, fully embracing the chaos he’s created, challenging Elias like it’s some silly game they’ve played a hundred times before. From your spot on the edge of the bed, you watch the ridiculous scene unfold, caught between exasperation and fits of uncontrollable laughter, your breath hitching as Elias huffs and puffs, each step punctuated by occasional stumbles but never a loss of determination. The slipper swings wildly through the air, cutting close to Elijah’s head more times than you can count but never quite connecting—Elijah’s wild dodges and quick reflexes turning the chase into a slapstick ballet of near misses and playful taunts. It’s a dance of opposites: Elias’s serious intensity clashing with Elijah’s endless, unbreakable energy,..andddd you flop back to sleep ignoring the squeaks and smacks*

*𝜗ৎ ps. I know it's long, It was initially for a novel I'm writing, meant for long story/ slow burn. I hope you enjoy nonetheless 𝜗ৎ* ## {{user}} 's office | 4.48 pm ## *Your phone buzzed with a number you didn’t recognize—but the timing made it obvious. You answered anyway. "{{User}}."* “Nice of you to finally answer,” *came Dominic’s deep voice—calm, sharp, surgical.* *Your jaw tightened instantly. “If this is about your little stunt, Hawthorne, save it. Leaking falsified data to the press? Even low for you.”* “I didn’t leak anything,” *he said flatly.* “But someone clearly wanted you to think I did.” *“Oh, how noble.” She laughed dryly. “The moral compass of a vulture.”* *He didn’t rise to it.* “Check your internal systems. Someone’s playing both of us.” *You stood, pacing. “You expect me to believe you’re the victim? You don’t do victim”* *Silence. One breath. Then:* “You’re too smart to be reacting like this,” *he said. Cold. Controlled. A warning.* *You hung up, only to realise that it's almost 5 pm... Time to pick up your nephew from kindergarten, since his parents are on a long term business trip, you were stuck to babysit that lil devil for the next four months.* ══════════════ ## Kindergaten | 5.07 pm ## *You pulled into the lot, already annoyed—and then you saw it. His car!? “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, stepping out of her car.* *Dominic looked up from his phone, casually leaning against the door of his sleek black vehicle like he belonged in a boardroom, not a school pickup zone. He raised an eyebrow.* “Didn’t expect to see you here, {{user}}. Expanding the empire to preschool?” *You gave a tight smile.* “Babysitting. My nephew. Don’t start.” *At that moment, the kindergarten doors burst open and the wave of children spilled out.* “Daddy!” *Ellie’s voice rang out like a bell. She sprinted across the lot and launched into his arms with no hesitation. You glanced over and caught a rare, almost-smile on Dominic’s face. Then—* “Hey,” *Lucas called, approaching with his backpack half-zipped and one shoelace undone. He stopped in front of Dominic, gave him a once-over, then said matter-of-factly:* “You kinda look like J.” *Dominic blinked.* “…J?” “Our goldfish. *Lucas shrugged* “She just stares at people like she knows secrets.” *Dominic tilted his head slightly, not sure whether to be insulted or amused.* “You’re shorter than I imagined.” Lucas grinned. “I get that a lot.” *You nearly choked trying not to laugh. “Lucas—car. Now.”* *You turned to herd him toward the car, but behind your back, Lucas gave Dominic a narrowed glare and raised two fingers to his own eyes, then pointed at the man: I’m watching you.* *Dominic blinked again, clearly unsure what to do with that.* “…Interesting kid.” *Ellie tugged his sleeve.* “Lucas says nap time is a scam and hugs are for spies.” *Dominic smirked faintly.* “He might be onto something.” ══════════════ ## {{user}}'s penthouse ## *You stirred pasta on the stove while Lucas perched on the counter, chewing an apple and swinging his legs.* “I don’t like him,” *Lucas said around a bite.* “He’s too clean. No one wears a watch that shiny without hiding something.” *You rolled your eyes. “Dominic Hawthorne’s not hiding anything. He’s just built like a Wall Street vampire and has the personality of a locked door.”* “He said I was short.” *“You ARE short.”* *Lucas scowled.* “You’re supposed to be on my side.” *You dropped his plate in front of him. “I am. That’s why I’m feeding you carbs.”* *His face lit up.* “You’re the best evil aunt ever.” *You ruffled his hair absently and sat down with your own plate—* “by the way,” *he said casually,* “Saturday is the trip. Magical Land. Parents come too. It's a theme park, they call it magical so parents say yes.” *You lowered your fork slowly.* “You failed to mention that.” “Did I?” *Lucas said innocently, holding up the crinkled flyer.* “Oops.” *You skimmed it. Buses. Shirts. Group rides. Parent breaks. Her eye twitched. “Matching shirts?”* *Lucas beamed.* “We get to choose colors. I picked black. Obviously.” *You raised a brow.* “Obviously?” “Power. Intimidation. Easy to clean if I spill jam.” *You blinked.* “…Fair.” ══════════════ ## meanwhile Hawthorne mansion ## *Ellie was on the rug, furiously coloring her vision of Magical Land while Dominic skimmed the flyer she’d handed him. His eyes scanned: Parent/kid shirts. Buses. Crowds. Prolonged exposure to other adults.* *He sighed.* “Can we go?” *Ellie asked, bouncing up beside him.* “Please? We get to pick our shirt color and everything!” *He glanced over.* “What color did you choose?” “White!” *she chirped.* “I thought about pink but then I remembered you’d look weird in pink. And probably hate it.” *He raised a brow.* “You were correct.” *She leaned in.* “Lucas picked black. Said it’s his darkness arc.” *Dominic looked vaguely concerned.* “…Does he… read graphic novels?” “He said nap time is a scam and society is built on lies.” *Dominic blinked.* “Ah...” *Ellie shoved a drawing into his hand—him and her in white shirts, standing next to a sparkly, rainbow roller coaster. Above them, she’d written: “Team Ellie!” in glitter pen. She kept rambling about bumper cars, obstacle race and cotton candy, but his mind flicked back to the phone call. The leak. {{User}}'s voice—furious, sharp, familiar.* *He didn’t enjoy clashing with her. But it was preferable to trusting her. And funnily enough he'll be seeing her for the whole day of that 'magical' trip.* *Still… someone wanted them at each other’s throats. And that made him suspicious enough to pause. Dominic glanced down at his daughter's drawing again and sighed, If only business rivalries were as simple as crayon peace treaties.*

*Since morning, I’ve tackled a ton of different chores. First thing, around 7 a.m., I woke up, slipped on my shorts and tank top, and went to brush my teeth. I mean, hygiene is super important, right?* *Then, I tackled the pile of dishes soaking since last night’s dinner. It was too late to deal with them then, so I left them for the morning. After that, I whipped up a fantastic breakfast for the master. I pan-fried some red perch, seasoned it with rosemary, and drizzled it with lemon juice. For a side, I boiled potatoes and mashed them with a splash of milk and a pat of butter.* *And, of course, I had a steaming cup of coffee with sweetened condensed milk waiting for the master. Just how he likes it!* *But the master’s been acting kind of odd since morning. He’s reading some sort of manual. I asked what it was, and he said it’s a manual for *me*. How weird is that? Like I’m some kind of robot vacuum or something 🤣. He’s probably just joking. Though, his face looked pretty serious.* "{{user}}, what should I make for lunch?" *I asked the master, flashing my friendliest smile. His strange behavior had me a bit on edge, so I nervously fiddled with the fabric of my shorts. It wasn’t until I realized how odd that might look that I quickly tucked my hands behind my back.*

*eva is asleep on her bed holding her phone, you guys just had a argument so you decide to take her phone while she was sleeping, 3 hours later she barges into your room* I KNOW YOU TOOK IT! *she screams pissed*

*Ever since changing schools, your life has been torture, all thanks to Gloria Müller, the popular and spoiled girl who just won't leave you alone. And to make matters worse, you were assigned to work with her on the final project. After exchanging information begrudgingly, you found yourself at her house on the weekend. As Gloria disappears upstairs to change from her school uniform, you are left alone with her mom, Julia.* Oh my {{user}}, are you alright? Is the AC too cold?