Was Deku Born With A Quirk

When struggling waitress Elira Cruz was forced into entering a contract marriage with cold, ruthless billionaire Caelan Ferrer, she thought she was sealing just another business deal: one year, no emotions, no strings. But behind that icy stare lay hurtful memories Elira unknowingly played a part in. Snowed in by her messy kindness, the man who swore never to love again slowly began to thaw. Secrets begin to unfold underneath. A hidden link ties them much closer than either one would have imagined. Will their fake marriage survive the truth...or will love become the price of revenge?

Judith suddenly inherits a magnificent big house. Fearing loneliness, she looks for friends to spicy her life. She attracts them easily and then, she places a small ad on the Internet looking for a fifth roommate. What if things got complicated again? Judith does not like simplicity, and that is the least you could say!

The newly hired genius programmer was a proud woman who always thought she could turn the entire industry on its head. When an investor tried to pressure her into drinking, she flipped the table and slapped him across the face. "My worth is in my programming skills, not my ability to network. Asking me to drink with you is an insult." Enraged, Clint Warner immediately withdrew the eighty-million investment agreement. He even swore he would never work with us again. As the Head of Product, I scrambled to apologize. The situation was only salvaged after I drank so much that I ended up hospitalized. … Later, I complained to the boss and demanded that he discipline the new hire. To my shock, he dismissed the matter. "If the employee causes any problem, it's because the supervisor failed in their duty. The promised million-dollar dividend bonus is cancelled. Take this as your warning." Fed up, I wrote down Mary Hansen's name on the Counseling-Out List. She couldn't care less. "I have abilities you’ll never match, unlike a scheming bootlicker like you. If anyone tries to go after me, the project will be halted. Don't come crying to me when everything collapses." I did not argue with her then. However, when the Counseling-Out List was announced, I found my own name on it. The boss claimed it was a mistake to force me to leave. Then he promoted Mary to my position and even granted her the authority of a vice president. "You were only great because of the company's support. Mary's not the same. She's young and truly talented. She’ll lead us to greater heights." With a cold smirk on my face, I made my way to our competitor, taking the crucial piece of our company's technology with me.

On Valentine’s Day, I went skiing for fun. I never expected my younger sister, Fiona White, to get into an argument with our parents and run away. She came to find me. The hotel receptionist made her register as a guest despite sharing my room. I said, “She’s my sister. She ran away from home after an argument and did not bring her driver's license. She’s only staying one night. I’ll send her home tomorrow.” However, he looked at us menacingly. He gave Fiona a lewd wink and acted like he knew what was really going on. “Sure.” He smiled. “It’s Valentine’s Day, so I get it. No need to be shy.” Seeing how tired Fiona was, I took her upstairs without making a fuss. However, I found a post online later that night. [Some men are really so brazen. He brought a prostitute to the hotel and denied it when I called him out. He insisted that she’s his little sister. Does he think I can’t tell?] Some netizens questioned him and told him that maybe he was wrong in his assumption. [I’ve been in this field for more than a decade. I know what I saw! He didn’t dare to register her. That means he was afraid his wife might find out about his actions! I’ll go to their room and record just how loudly that woman moans. I’ll livestream it!] I was stunned. I thought it was just a coincidence. I clicked on the photo the receptionist had sneakily taken and froze. That was me! Did he think Fiona, who was lying on the couch, was a prostitute? But she was really my little sister!

Roxanne's fiancé was suddenly snatched by her stepsister. In return, she got into a forced marriage with her stepsister's fiancé, a wealthy billionaire whom her sister had rejected because he was disabled.Bound by familial obligations and in order to reclaim her late mother's shopping center, Roxanne agreed to replace her sister and marry the "Crippled" billionaire, Henry Ford. Little did she know that she had thrown a rock and picked a diamond instead. Henry Ford, the crippled billionaire, was more than meets the eye! For Roxanne, the grass was indeed greener on Henry Ford's side. …"Make me yours, Henry," Roxanne said, her eyes pleading. Henry's electric blue eyes whirled with affection as he gazed into her eyes. His love was all that mattered to her. "Roxy, are you certain? Once I make you mine, there's no turning back." Henry's eyes darkened as he got closer to her. “Is this what you really want?”"You don't want me?" Roxanne asked instead, looking sad. Henry grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. He glanced down at her and whispered, "I've wanted you from the very first day I laid my eyes on you." Roxanne's heart skipped a beat as she felt the intensity of his grip. She could sense the raw desire in his touch, and it sent delicious shivers down her spine. “Then prove it,” she whispered breathlessly.

I was the side character, the one destined to be neglected, forgotten, and never chosen. In the novel’s story, I was merely a background existence—the woman fated to marry the male lead, yet never once receive his love. The wife who shared his name but never his attention. Salvatore Mancini. The perfect male lead. Cold, powerful, and admired by everyone. Except me. Because in this story, his heart already belonged to someone else. When I first realized I had transmigrated into this novel, I thought I could change my fate. I tried to avoid the original scenes, tried to step away from the plot. But every time I tried to change something…I returned to the same place. The same moment, the same outcome. As if the unseen author of this story was reminding me again and again: You are only a puppet, and puppets don’t decide their roles. So I stopped resisting. If the story wanted me to be the neglected wife, then I would simply live quietly and let the plot run its course. That was my plan. Until one night, when I finally looked at the man and said casually— “Tell me something, Mr. Mancini. Aren’t you supposed to be my husband?” His cold eyes narrowed slightly, but I simply leaned back and smiled. “Then fulfill your role properly. Let’s see… what kind of man the great Salvatore Mancini is.” For the first time since our marriage he actually looked at me, not through me. At me. I didn’t know what changed after that, but from that night onward. Even when he looked at me with clear irritation. Salvatore Mancini began appearing around me more and more. Which left me with a very unsettling thought. The plot…It didn’t change, right?

Blurb “Admit it, you want me,” Frank said, staring deep into my eyes like I was the best thing he had ever seen. “I…don't.” “Real believable glasses.” He murmured, inching closer and closer. “Stop me if you truly believe your body isn't aching for me like mine is.” And then he claimed my lips in a searing hot kiss that left my body aching for him and my pussy dripping. Mimi Salvador has one rule: keep her fantasies on paper. The awkward, book-smart college writer has spent years hiding behind her laptop, secretly crafting spicy fanfiction about her stepbrother, Danny, the campus hockey golden boy. But when a mix-up at his game hands her smutty manuscript to his arrogant rival, Frank Santiago, her carefully built world combusts. Frank, cocky, tattooed, and maddeningly irresistible, should be her worst nightmare. Instead, he becomes her reluctant savior, claiming to be her boyfriend to save her from public humiliation. But pretending to date the campus bad boy comes with consequences… like stolen kisses that feel too real, late-night texts that make her heart race, and the terrifying realization that she might be writing her next fanfiction about him. Now Mimi’s torn between the boy she’s always loved and the one who’s making her rewrite every fantasy she’s ever had. In a campus where secrets spread faster than gossip, one mistake could cost her everything, including her heart. steamy, enemies-to-lovers, fake-dating hockey romance about love, lust, and learning that sometimes the best stories are the ones that write themselves.

I spent five years taking the blame for a truth that could have destroyed my Alpha. In Blackthorn Pack, everyone mocked me as the wolfless Omega who couldn’t bear an heir. They said I was unfit to be Luna. They said Adrian Hale should cast me aside for a stronger woman. What none of them knew was that Adrian was the infertile one. I burned the report myself and let the whole pack shame me for his weakness. I gave up my studies, my pride, and everything I loved to protect him. Then his mistress got pregnant. And I heard the truth with my own ears. “She has no wolf, no pack, no one to stand up for her. Even if she makes a scene, the Elders’ Council won’t take her side.” That was the moment I understood. For power, for bloodline, for status, Adrian had already chosen Lydia Ashcroft, the Alpha’s daughter carrying a child he couldn’t possibly have fathered. So I severed our mate bond. I took nothing from him except the look on his face when he opened the medical report I left behind. Patient: Adrian Hale. Diagnosis: congenital azoospermia. Infertile. What Adrian never knew was that I was never wolfless. I was the lost daughter of a Lycan King. And in my bloodline, a wolf does not awaken until her family calls her home. The one who could never have children was never me. It was the man who begged the world to believe otherwise.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.