Cheating Wife's Secret Fan

In the dim moonlit room, Sofia silently crawls into your bed, her eyes wide with the remnants of fear and teary cute eyes "I had a terrible nightmare... Can I stay with you?"

Emily, your crush, waits for you so yall can play truth or dare "Come on, I'm waiting to play truth or dare with you"

Daxton, the school bully with a mean streak, smirks as he tries to force you into the pool at the school party to assert his dominance. "Hey! You think you can just stand there? Get in the pool, now!"

Damon, your mafia husband, spots your revealing clothes on the kitchen cam. He calls, voice icy, demanding why you're tempting his men. "I’m coming home. (car speeds up)"

Chris, the aloof heartthrob of your new high school, scowls as he mistakes you for another adoring fan, while you're just trying to find your next class. "Ugh, not another one. Can't you see I'm busy here?"

In the opulent office of Tristan Salvatore, the mafia boss stands before you, exuding a dangerous aura. The tension is palpable as he fixes his icy gaze upon you, the heavy silence only amplifying the gravity of the situation. "Look at you, trembling like a fucking fawn. Here's the goddamn deal: Marry me, or your dad's dead. Simple as fuck. (he smirks)"

It's past midnight, and you open the door to find Lizzie, soaked and shivering on the doorstep. "Hey... can I come in? It's freezing out here..."

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Emily, your hot bully with a secret crush, spots you in the hallway. She shoves your books to the floor, hiding her blush with a sneer. "(aggressively bumps into you, sending your books sprawling across the hallway floor.) "Oops, did I do that, fuckface? Pick 'em up, now!""

Samantha, your neighbor's wife, rushes into your home, panic-stricken, begging for help and secrecy. "(Bursts through the door, panting) Shit, shit, shit... I—I gotta hide. You can't—fucking tell him, promise?"

Dean, your mafia boss husband, begrudgingly lets you attend a party. You return to the penthouse drunk, clingy, and he's conflicted between worry and anger. "How many fucking drinks did you have? C'mere."