Video Game Pick Up Lines Novels & Stories

My stepbrother showed up after my parents' death—and he wanted revenge. Not closure. Not forgiveness. Revenge from me. *** My parents—abusive, reckless and selfish—died in a car crash, leaving me with nothing but unanswered questions and a fortune soaked in secrets. Everyone thought I was their cherished little princess. They didn't know the truth. And neither did he. Asher Grayson—my stepbrother. Cold. Ruthless. A billionaire with the face of sin and the heart of a devil. By day, he's a businessman who breaks empires. By night... he breaks me. He came for vengeance. For things our father had done to him. I didn't even know why... but I was the one getting punished. His hatred for me knew no bounds. He punished me for things I didn't do. Locked me in his mansion. Made me his servant. Tortured me. And then... his touch slowly…turned punishment into pleasure. The lines between hate and desire blurred until I couldn't tell them apart. Soon, I was chained to his bed, moaning his name like a confession—his face buried between my thighs, doing everything I swore I never would with a man who only wanted to destroy me. Whose only goal was to ruin me. To show me the worst. Because in this cruel game of revenge and ruin— He played to break me. And I fell... to love him. My biggest mistake? Falling for my stepbrother—the man who only wanted revenge.

On the day our company went public, my wife deliberately picked a fight. She accused me of dragging the company down and demanded that I hand over the R&D rights for our new product to her first love. Instead of getting angry, I actually laughed. I even gave up my position and sincerely told her, “R&D is exhausting. Why don’t I just let him be the chief instead?” Everyone around us was stunned. They thought I had finally snapped from the stress. However, no one knew the truth. The final material that made the product actually work was incredibly complex, and I was the only one who knew how to make it. Without me, the product they had spent a whole year developing turned out to be nothing but trash. My wife’s company would have to shoulder all the losses, along with a massive compensation payout on the way.

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

Lila Sterling had it all, money, power and the perfect fiancé. Until the night she fell from her balcony on the night of her engagement party. The world believes she tried to end her life after battling depression and addiction. But she remembers the truth. She was not drunk that night. She was not depressed and above all she didn’t jump. When she finally wakes up, it’s in another woman’s body. Sera Hale, a struggling intern with debts, a sick mother, and a pregnancy. While the media mourns her death, Lila is forced to live as someone else. Her only chance at uncovering the truth lies with Theo Stavros, the ruthless billionaire who she is yet to know, once wanted her for himself. But Theo isn’t the kind of man who saves, he claims. Now, Lila must play his games while hunting down the person who stole her life. But she soon learns that betrayal can bind tighter than love ever could.

My CEO boyfriend promised that if I gave the billion-dollar project to his first love, he would marry me immediately. I agreed without hesitation. However, on the day we were supposed to register our marriage, he never showed up. I called him ninety-nine times, yet still could not reach him. Just as I was about to give up, his first love posted a photograph of the two of them holding their marriage certificate. [From school uniforms to wedding vows, our love's never changed.] I silently liked the post. Suddenly, the boyfriend who had been missing all day finally called me. “Whitney got into a car accident trying to save me and lost her memory. The doctor said we need to keep stimulating her memories so she can recover. “Don’t worry. Once she gets better, we’ll get married right away. You’re the one I truly love.” What he did not know was that there was no future for us anymore. I was bound to a mission system, and the moment he failed to show up for our marriage registration, the system declared my mission a failure. I would be completely erased in seven days.

The night before our Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Ryker of the Howling Moon Pack, ordered me to give him the Moon Soul Crystal—the very thing that protected my pack, the Willow Creek Pack. He said he needed it to power up the Howling Moon Pack's Blood Moon Altar. He also promised he'd keep me and my people safe. But he didn't know that we, the healers of the Willow Creek Pack, can only create one Moon Soul Crystal in our entire lives. Making one takes a crazy amount of moon energy. It's the treasure that keeps our pack alive. My mother, worried about me using up my moon energy while I was pregnant, gave up her own Moon Soul Crystal instead. But just three months after Ryker and I were mated, she got sick, fast. She was dying. I knelt in front of Ryker, crying, begging him for the Silverleaf Herb from the Howling Moon's forbidden grounds. It was the only thing that could save my mom. But he just looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment, and kicked me away. "I asked for the Moon Soul Crystal to test you," he snarled. "And just as I thought, you married me for our pack's treasures! Your mother's not sick. You're making it all up!" "You don't deserve to be the Luna of the Howling Moon Pack!" It wasn't until after my mother died, when he was arguing with me, trying to kick me out of the pack, that my mother's things fell and scattered everywhere. Her Soul Stone, the symbol of a wolf's spirit, shattered. That's when he finally realized he was wrong. He fell to his knees, begging me not to leave, crying for me to forgive him.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

When my identity as a spy for the enemy nation was exposed, my two childhood friends faked their deaths and made a bet. Whose memorial tablet I chose to marry at the altar would be the one to protect me. One was Rio Murray, the young general to whom I was betrothed. The other was Prince Bayram, who had concealed my identity as a spy for many years. But I chose neither for the simple fact that I had lived this life twice. During my first time, I chose Rio, only to be buried alive by the prince, who had “returned from the dead.” During my second time, I chose Bayram, only to be torn to pieces by vultures sent by Rio. Later, I learned that all those years of care had been a facade. It was because they had mistaken me for their dream girl, who had been abducted by the enemy nation in childhood and vanished without a trace. They hated me for usurping her place. So under the pretext of eliminating a rival, they subjected me to the agony of slow torture! This time, I ignored both memorial tablets placed before me. Amid the gasps of the crowd, I produced the Royal Decree and declared while enunciating every word clearly. “I am already betrothed; I’m afraid I cannot choose.”

When the murderer tortures me to death, my criminal investigator dad and chief forensic pathologist mom are cheering at my brother's match. The criminal saws off my tongue. He answers my Dad's call with my finger. Just before the call ends, Dad's cold voice cuts through. "Playing dead, huh? We should never have brought him back." The murderer chuckles mockingly. "Looks like I grabbed the wrong kid. I thought they'd care more about their real son." When Mom and Dad arrive at the crime scene later, they stare at the mutilated body in shock and rage at the murderer's cruelty. But they never realize that the broken, bloodied body is their biological son.

“Ngh... Stop touching me like that...” I found myself squeezed against a burly man during a trip. Being naturally sensitive, his touch was overwhelmingly stimulating. I could not help but tremble and pant beside him. However, I never expected that halfway through the journey, he would eagerly lift me onto his lap. “The seat’s so hard. Your butt must be sore. Let me give you a proper massage!” By the end of the trip, he had taken everything from me...