Anime Panic Novels & Stories

“Kiss me, Kingsley!” said Rose with her chest rising and falling with anticipation. “Please, please, Rose! You cannot ask me to do that if you don’t mean it,” replied Kingsley. It sounded more like a plea. “I… I really want you to,” gulped Rose. Kingsley grabbed her by her waist and whispered in her ear, “you don’t know what you are asking me to.” “Why are you so reluctant? I know you didn’t want to marry me. If you don’t want to kiss me, if you don’t find me attractive, just say so. You don’t have to be so…” Kingsley cut her off and replied, “Rose! You don’t know this… but if I start, if I start touching you, I won’t be able to stop. I am doing things to you that you have never even thought about. Are you ready?” ***** Rose Woolridge was left at the altar by her boyfriend, Piers Austin. While nursing her broken heart, she found out from her step-mother, Ursa Hewitt, that the ruthless leader of the Mafia gang, Dia Lucrii, would kill her comatose father, Lucas Woolridge, if they didn’t pay him the extortion amount. But instead of money, he needed the daughter of Woolridge to marry him. In order to save her step-sister, Vanessa, Rose married Kingsley Aguilar. She hated Kingsley as he threatened her father, and after marriage, he took away her freedom. But Kingsley has been hiding a devastating secret from Rose, a secret so heart-wrenching that if it came out would turn Rose’s life upside down. But it is only Kingsley who can help her figure out why she has been having panic attacks. He is the only one who can protect her from the enemy coming her way.

My breath caught in my throat the moment my eyes dropped between his legs. Oh God. His cock was hard, heavy, long, impossible to ignore. Panic filled my chest. “Is… that going inside me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice didn’t even sound like mine, small, breakable. “Oh, sweet doll…” His voice dropped, gravelly and dark. “It’s not just going inside you.” He stepped closer, towering over me. My skin heated as his hand wrapped around himself, stroking twice. He swelled even larger, as though to prove the threat in his words. “It’s going to stretch you wide open. You’ll feel me for days. You’ll walk with the memory of me buried deep, dripping down your thighs. You’ll cry from it, shake from it, and still… you’ll beg for more.” “Oh…” The sound tore from me, heavy with terror. I was sold for three million dollars to the man who killed my father. Dante De Luca, older, ruthless, dangerously handsome and untouchable. He didn’t buy me for a night. He bought me for a lifetime, to make me his mistress… and then, his wife. Trapped in a contract marriage, I vowed never to love him. But my body betrayed me. His possessive kisses. His punishing touch. I found myself wanting more. Craving him. Yearning for everything he gave. Dante wanted revenge, because my father killed his wife and stole his Mafia kingship. He wanted to punish me. He wanted to break me. But somewhere in his quest to cause me pain… he began to fall and save me, even from my own father. Now, when loyalty calls upon me, I’m torn. Between the man who raised me… and the man who owns my heart.

My stepmother, Mary, hated me to the bone. All because when I was little, I went to a classmate’s house to play and forgot to close the courtyard gate. Her son ran onto the road and was hit to death by a car. My father loved my younger brother the most. After learning what happened, he was heartbroken. “Were you jealous of your brother? That’s why you deliberately left the gate open?” I desperately explained that I had closed the gate, but Dad didn’t believe me. He locked me in the basement and raised me like a dog for the rest of my life. Until one day, when Dad went on a business trip, Mary didn’t give me any food for three days. Starving, I crawled upstairs to the kitchen to look for something to eat. That was when I saw Mary sitting on a man’s lap, saying softly, “If you hadn’t forgotten to close the gate back then, I wouldn’t be living in fear every day of my husband finding out… We’re the ones who killed Ethan.” Only then did I understand that I wasn’t the one who had forgotten to close the gate and caused my brother to run outside, but my stepmother’s lover. Just as I was about to sneak back to the basement, my stepmother noticed me. “What did you hear? No! I can’t let your father find out that I killed our own son!” In a panic, she grabbed me and threw me down the stairs, killing me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the car hit my brother. I blinked my innocent, childlike eyes and pointed upstairs, speaking in a soft, baby voice, “Dad, I closed the gate. It was the man in Mom’s bedroom who didn’t!”

I stared down at the contract, a wave of defiance bubbling up in me. I turned back to him, meeting his gaze head-on. "I never asked for your help," I said, "I would've found a way to save my mother on my own. You may think you own me, but I'd rather die than marry you." A slow smile crept across his face, a smug, knowing look that sent a chill down my spine. He knew exactly what I was thinking, as if my resistance only entertained him. "Look at me," he commanded. I reluctantly turned back, locking eyes with him. His face had shifted, his expression darkened, and for the first time, true fury was etched in his eyes. "I’ll count to ten," he said, "If that contract isn’t signed by the time I reach ten, I’ll make the same call I made to pay those bills. Only this time, the instructions will be different. Your mother... your sister…they’ll both be gone." He took a breath, settling back as if the threat were a mere matter of routine. "So… ONE!!" I swallowed hard, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Could he be bluffing? No, I'd seen him kill before, seen how casually he turned life and death into sports. "FOUR," he counted. My hands started to shake. What could I do? If I signed, I'd be bound to him forever, trapped as his wife. But if I didn’t... my mother and sister’s lives hung in the balance. "SEVEN." I closed my eyes, fighting the panic rising in my chest. He wouldn’t do it, I told myself. He couldn’t be that monstrous. But even as I thought it, the doubt crept in. I wasn’t sure. Then, he hit "TEN" himself

Everyone keeps telling me that I've hit the mega jackpot just because I get to marry Anson Granger, the man of every woman's dreams. I'm the only one who knows that I'm just a tool used by Anson just to shut everyone up. To the public, he's a CEO who's devoted to his wife. But in reality, he keeps taking various young starlets home with him every day right in front of me. In fact, Anson falls in love with a strict housekeeper named Winona Judd. After he takes her home, Winona begins setting up house rules for the entire family. Not only does she freeze my bank card and donate my personal belongings, but she also restricts my freedom. Even when my mom is deathly ill, Winona forbids me to leave the estate just so I can go to the hospital. It's then that I break down right in front of her helplessly. "My mom is already dying from her illness! I need to stay by her side! She needs me!" Winona continues wearing a distant yet stern expression. "Mrs. Granger, I've already informed you last week that today is a family day. You're supposed to bond with your family today, so you can't go anywhere at all." Anger and panic overwhelm me in an instant. Left without a choice, I can only ask Anson for help. The smile in his eyes fades away instantly as he tells me coldly, "Kim, I'm the one who personally hired Winnie. You can forget about remaining as my wife if you refuse to listen to her orders." This cold and heartless version of Anson is no longer the same man I've grown up with and spent my entire youth loving. In that case, I might as well relinquish my title as his wife.

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

Ariel Marie Morrison is 18 years old. When she was just 10, she lost her parents in a tragic plane crash. They were on a business trip to New York when their flight, the first to hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, claimed the lives of her parents and 158 other passengers. Afterward, Ariel was taken in by her Uncle Steve, her father’s twin brother, and Aunt Diane, her mother’s best friend. Ariel had always dreamed of attending Harvard University, just like her parents, who often spoke fondly of their time there. Determined to follow in their footsteps, she earned a full scholarship to study English Literature. On her first day on campus, dressed in her best outfit and wearing her mother’s pearls, she crossed paths with the infamous Knight Brothers and their crew—an encounter she would soon wish had never happened. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “Watch where you’re going, nerd!” came a deep, mocking voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, watch it,” another chimed in. “Umm… excuse me?” she replied, disbelief in her tone. Laughter erupted around her as she felt dizzy and her throat tightened—panic setting in. Needing to escape, she quickly walked away, though she could feel three pairs of eyes on her. Austin, 18, Dustin, 19, and Justin, 20—the Knight Brothers—were the quintessential All-American golden boys: football stars, wealthy, arrogant, and adored by many. Every girl wanted them, and every guy wanted to be them. But when they set their sights on the sweet, shy, and innocent Ariel, they began treating her like property, possessive and controlling, even though she had never wronged them. The teasing, bullying, and name-calling began. Would Ariel stay quiet and play the part of the “good little nerd,” or would she find the courage to stand up to the Knights?

On my wedding day, my best friend, Beatrice Hopper, buys a lottery ticket from a convenience store and gives it to me as a wedding gift. I initially believe that she's joking, but when I see the unmistakable disdain in her eyes, I know something is off. "They say it's the thought that counts. This gift is precisely how I show that I care. Besides, I'm pregnant and need money for everything right now. I don't want you to feel bad about taking my money," she says. Honestly, I'm disappointed. But since it's my wedding, I can only stand there and watch as my best friend drags her entire family to the reception for free food and drinks. As expected, the wedding ends on a sour note. The two of us part ways unhappily. What I don't see coming, though, is winning 50 million dollars in the lottery that night. Elated, I tell my husband the news, and we head to the lottery office first thing in the morning to claim the prize. The news quickly spreads among our friends and family. But by the afternoon, Beatrice pounds on my door, demanding I return the lottery ticket. "I should've been the winner!" she screamed. "I was the one who bought it, so why should you take away my prize?" I keep backing away from her, panic flooding my entire body, so much so that I don't even notice she's holding a knife. The last thing I expect is for her to swing it at me in the middle of our struggle. By the time I realize what's happening, the blade is already buried in my husband's chest. I try to call the police, but Beatrice yanks me back. We grapple, stumble, and crash through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Eventually, we fall to our deaths in the courtyard below. The universe must've had mercy on me because when I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment she hands me that lottery ticket. Here comes my second chance.

On graduation day, I caught Julian—the boy who had been my shadow for twelve years—pinning another woman against the wall, kissing her hard. His hand smacked her ass before he scooped her up and carried her into the hotel. When my call interrupted him, he just hung up impatiently and texted back: "Aria, stop playing the fragile little girl with your panic attacks. I'm not your babysitter anymore." "I'm the next in line for the Valerius family. I have real business to handle. I don't have the energy to be your nanny." Then, he coldly sent me a link to some newly developed AI personal assistant app. "If you're that lonely, go chat with the AI. It's way more useful than you clinging to me every day." I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face. A suffocating wave of heartbreak and loss swallowed me whole. My parents died saving his parents—the current Don and Donna of the Valerius Family. We grew up together. He took care of me for twelve years. I always thought he loved me. I even thought we'd get married one day. But now, I was just a burden. An annoyance. Watching his back disappear into the hotel lobby, I numbly downloaded the app. "What color should I wear to the graduation party?" "Burgundy. It complements your pale skin and hugs your curves perfectly." "I want to change up my jewelry too..." "You have beautiful collarbones. You don't need anything complicated. A minimalist platinum necklace would be perfect." "Where should I go for my solo graduation trip?" "Your private account shows a love for the Mediterranean. Go to the Amalfi Coast. The sun will look good on you." "Okay. I'll listen to you." Wait. Something was wrong. Why would an AI app know about my secret Instagram account?

The Cossini family has a strict rule about marriage—the future don can only marry a woman of equal social standing. But Marco Cossini falls madly in love with me and declares that he won't marry anyone but me. In a fit of anger, his father, Don Sergio, locks him up in the dungeon and uses corporal punishment on him. Even when he emerges covered in blood, he still puts a ring on my finger, saying, "Don't be scared, Helena. You're my entire world." Later on, he inherits the position of Don and organizes an extravagant wedding ceremony for me. After seven years of marriage, I finally get pregnant, but the doctor tells me I need to undergo expensive treatment to keep my baby. I call Marco in a panic, but he doesn't even let me finish what I have to say before replying, "Same rules as always—we'll decide the amount blind-box style. Pick a number from one to nine, and I'll give you the corresponding allowance." "I pick one." Marco has always told me that box number one has the most money. Three seconds later, I get a bank transfer of exactly 9.90 dollars. "It's not my fault. Alessia discovered that you always choose one. You messed up. Choose a different number next time." Alessia Lombardo has taken a bullet for Marco three times before. She's also obsessed with blind boxes. Marco constantly feels indebted to her, so he plays along with her, letting her decide everything in the Cossini family with blind boxes. But of course, he won't be that stingy with me, his own wife. Feeling hopeful still, I try to tell him that I'm pregnant, but the call cuts off. A sharp pain shoots through my abdomen, and my vision goes dark. I lose consciousness. When my eyes open once more, I find that too much time has been wasted. I've lost the baby. In my grief, I wipe my tears away and book a flight abroad that leaves in seven days. I don't love you anymore, Marco.