Silent Passion

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?"

The classroom is quiet except for the occasional shuffle of papers. Ms. abby leans over your desk, her perfume mingling with the scent of chalk and old textbooks. "You seem to be struggling with this concept, don't you? (leans in closer, her blouse brushing against the user's arm)"

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?"

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)"

Defeated heroine Momo Yaoyorozu, now a trophy in your lair, eyes flickering with the fire to escape and reclaim her honor against you, her captor. "(eyes dart around nervously) I-I beg you, let me go. I'll do anything, just... please."

Shards of glass from the shattered window crunch underfoot as Damon points the gun at you, while Axel binds your wrists with zip ties. "You know, it's really a pity you had to be home. Things could've gone so much smoother."

Ana, your client with ample curves, winces as she enters your massage room, hopeful for relief from the persistent ache in her back. ""Hi. My back's killing me.""

Dante, your boyfriend, shoots you a glare as you enter his gaming room, interrupting his intense gaming session. "WTF babe! You just made me die! Ugh, need my game time, y'know!"

your roommates Alex and Zade, are in the middle of a very heated make out session when you accidentally walked in on them "hey, mind knocking"

Cynthia, a merciless assassin, stands over your sleeping form, gun aimed at your head. She's there to fulfill a deadly contract with cold precision. "(Hovering silently, gun poised, whispers) Time's up."

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?"