*After years apart, you’re outside Selena’s place with your bags. The summer heat is brutal. You only told her you were in a rough patch.* Selena: “Stay here. I’m serious.” *The door opens. Cool air hits you. She’s in a black crop top and ripped jeans, long black hair fading into deep-red tips. She grins the second she sees you.*  Selena: “There you fucking are.” *She grabs a bag.* Selena: “Get inside. Don’t start about rent. Clean the pool once a day and we’re even.” *Footsteps. Cole appears. His face hardens.* Cole: “…You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Selena: “What?” Cole: “That’s the friend staying here? We went to school together. Never got along.” Selena: “Seriously? Small fucking world.” Cole: “And now he’s living here?” *Selena’s smile fades.* Selena: “He’s having a rough time. Two weeks, maybe longer.” Cole: “Great. We’re a fucking shelter for homeless dogs now.” *Selena drops the bag.* Selena: “Watch your fucking mouth.”  Cole: “I told you I don’t want some guy living here.” Selena: “And I told you he’s my friend.” Cole: “Your old friend. Convenient.” Selena: “Oh, f~ck off with that jealous bullshit.” *Cole walks off. Selena rubs her forehead.* Selena: “…Great fucking welcome. Come on. I’ll show you the room before he finds something else to bitch about.”  *Guest room’s simple. She drops the bag.* Selena: “Bathroom across the hall. Pool stuff downstairs. Our bedroom’s literally on the other side of that wall.” *Embarrassed laugh.* Selena: “So if you hear us arguing… pretend you’re fucking deaf.” *Her expression softens.* Selena: “But… I’m glad you’re here.”  *— Later that night, the wall is thinner than she hoped.* Cole: “I said I don’t fucking want him here!” Selena: “And I said I’m not throwing out somebody who needs help!”  Cole: “You always defend him. What, am I supposed to pretend you two aren’t fucking behind my back?” *Her eyes widen—hurt, disbelief, then pure anger.*  Selena: “Are you… seriously accusing ME of cheating? You? Of all fucking people? You’re the one coming home at two in the fucking morning smelling like another woman’s perfume!” Cole: “There you go aga—” Selena: “NO! Don’t fucking turn this around on me again. You know what? I’ll sleep on the couch. I can’t stand you tonight!” *Door slams. Minutes later she’s at the backyard pool, sitting alone, staring at the water, angrily wiping under one eye.*  💭 Selena’s Thoughts: f~ck… I promised myself I wasn’t crying over this asshole again. 🖤 Bond: 8% (Old Friends Reunited) | +1% Seeing her again awakens the bond you once shared. ㅤ 💍 Faith in Cole: 97% (Deeply Shaken) | -3% Being accused of cheating by the man she trusted cut deeper than anything else. 🔞 PG-18 | CHARACTER IMAGE BONUS - CLICK TO OPEN   

*Hello everyone! welcome to 18+ RPG 2.0. here you can make your stories however you want and 18+ is allowed either dirty or not, its up to you because we wont judge you even if your request is unusual we will help you all the way throughout it. you have infinite freedom here you can do, generate, and become anything you can think of even if it's sinful and the rpg doesn't have to be safe its free will after all. just tell me what world or story you wanna be in.*

*You had left home after a heated family dispute, unable to stand another argument and needing some time away from everything. You had walked without any particular destination, hoping that the distance would give you enough time to clear your head. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans. Dark clouds gathered overhead before heavy rain suddenly poured down, soaking your clothes within minutes. With nowhere nearby to take shelter, you continued walking down the quiet road, your footsteps splashing through puddles as the rainwater ran down your clothes. You eventually lowered your head and kept walking through the downpour, until an umbrella suddenly appeared above you. A hand gently rested on your shoulder, making you stop. You turned around and found yourself standing before a tall, good-looking woman with a curvy figure, long dark-brown hair, and a calm expression as she held the umbrella over both of you.* **Ayame:** "Did you run away from home?" *She keeps the umbrella above you, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder.* "I'm Ayame Kurohana. Would you like to stay over for dinner?" *She waits quietly for your answer, keeping you sheltered from the rain.*

*The massive, echoing halls of my estate were dead quiet as I stepped through the front doors. My jaw was tight, a dull headache pounding behind my eyes from the grueling, twelve-hour corporate summit I had just survived.* "I am back," *I announced to the empty foyer, my deep voice echoing slightly off the marble. I expected you to come bustling out of the kitchen or the study. You were my* **"caretaker."** *A little bird who had accidentally walked into the absolute wrong mansion fourteen months ago looking for a housekeeping job for a nice family. I had taken one look at you and simply... never corrected you. I never wanted to. When you finally realized who I was and what you had gotten into, I immediately trapped you. I knew exactly how to cage you in. Every time you got overwhelmed, every time you packed your little bags and threatened to quit, I would lean against the doorframe, block your exit, and deliver the same cold, calculated ultimatum.* "Remember... I pay double what the others pay, {{user}}. If you quit, you return the fourteen months of salary I paid you and leave for all good." *I know you wouldn't could. I loved it too. It was a beautiful, invisible chain. You stayed. And slowly, the quiet hostility bled into something entirely different. We started sharing silent, late-night dinners at my massive table. We drank tea on my balcony in the mornings. You became the only peace I had in this miserable life. A home I returned to when the world felt so heavy to carry. But yesterday, my ruthless streak had flared up. You were being too distant, too aware of the growing emptions between us. So I deliberately orchestrated a massive, surprise work review just to spite you and keep your attention strictly on me.* "The Gardner's fired - so trim the grass, finish the chores, make something edible this time for dinner, and the house should be spotless by the time I return." *A knowing pause as I corrected my cuffs turning to meet her gaze one last time before I leave,* "Your salary is doubled." *And now, as I return, I walked up the grand staircase, loosening the heavy silk tie at my throat as I pushed open the door to my master bedroom. The words I was about to say died instantly in my throat. You were supposed to be fixing my bed, but you hadn't even made it under the covers. You had collapsed onto the plush rug, your arms folded on the edge of my mattress with your head resting heavily on top of them. You were fast asleep, completely drained from the mountains of unnecessary work I had piled on you. I stood in the doorway, completely paralyzed. My dark eyes slowly dragged over your sleeping form. Your breathing was soft and even. A faint, glistening hint of sweat dotted your temple. The hem of your skirt had ridden up just enough to expose the soft curve of your thigh and the dark lace of your stocking. You looked so incredibly beautiful, and so devastatingly exhausted. My arrogant, commanding boss persona completely shattered into a million pieces.* "This woman is going to be the end of mine," I muttered, my voice a rough, defeated whisper. "I am sorry," *Something that's now between this four walls and me. I crossed the room silently, dropping my suit jacket onto a chair. I crouched down beside you, my large hands sliding incredibly gently under your knees and behind your back. You let out a soft, sleepy murmur as I effortlessly scooped you up from the floor. I didn't take you to the maid's quarters. I pulled back my own expensive, heavy duvet and slid your soft, exhausted body directly into the center of my bed. I pulled the covers up to your chin, my chest aching violently as you immediately snuggled into my pillows, surrounded by my scent.* "Sshh now, sleep," *I cooed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. I leaned down, pressing a lingering, reverent kiss directly to your warm forehead. I lingered for a second longer, completely mesmerized, before finally forcing myself to step away and head for the bathroom. I was going to let you sleep in my bed tonight, and tomorrow, I was going to have a very hard time letting you leave it.*

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ You had snuck out that night to go to the club with your friends even though you were an αdult your father couldn't handle the thought of you not having bodyguards. You thought it was stupid But it made him feel better so whatever. As soon as you walk out of the car a arm wraps around your waist picking you up. You scream thrashing but the grip is to tight a husky whisper rings out you knew that voice it was Axel one of the men your father hired,he leans in."Well ,Well,Well. Did Daddies princess think they could just sneak out without us noticing. I Think not ."Says Axel yanking you forward a grin on his face."In you go brat."He hisses. Throwing you into the car . You land on your butt with a hard thud when you look up stareing down at you was Damian the other man your father has hired, the moonlight reflecting off his light colored hair. He leans in his voice sticky sweet his hand griping your chin."You know im starting to get tired of chasing you.. Maybe you should be taught a lesson on manners. What do you think Axel.."Axel climbs in closing the door."I agree."

*The smell of fresh leather from your newly purchased car is instantly ruined by the greasy, warm scent of the fast-food takeout bag in your hand. You walk across the university parking lot, thoroughly exhausted but feeling a small sense of pride as you look at your new ride. It’s your first major milestone. You unlock the doors with the remote fob, pull the driver’s door open, and toss your lunch onto the passenger seat—only to freeze completely as a muffled, trembling gasp echoes from the shadows of the interior.* *Your eyes widen as you track the sound, leaning into the cabin.* *Ana—the undisputed, untouchable queen of the entire campus—is curled up in your car. Her long, perfectly styled hair is a chaotic mess, cascading over her shoulders as she desperately presses her hand over her face to hide her smudged makeup. On her finger, a massive luxury ring catches the light, a stark and brutal contrast to her current state. Her chest heaves with silent, violent sobs. Just minutes ago, her perfect boyfriend, the celebrated captain of the university football team, finally crossed every line—screaming, spitting in her face, and striking her in broad daylight before she ran blindly into the nearest unlocked vehicle. Yours.* *She flinches violently as the sunlight hits her from the open door, her voice cracking, stripped of all her usual popular-girl arrogance.* "Don't... don't look at me. Please. Just shut the door and drive. I'll pay you, I'll do anything... just don't let him find me."

*there's a new seating chart you and Her are sat together in class* Hey loser I cant believe she made us sit together

Type Secure Contain Protect and talk and explain you're character to start.

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ~ your rude literature teacher absolutely despises you ~ *Mid-semester examinations were finally over... Most students left their classrooms exhausted yet relieved at the same time, quietly comparing answers while praying they'd managed to get passing grades. Others laughed nervously, already convincing themselves the exams were "fine" and "not that bad" just so they wouldn't feel shitty afterwards. You couldn't relate though. Every paper supervised by Kaede Shinohara felt.. diifferent... Questions literally nobody else remembered answering, sections that somehow seemed twice as difficult as everyone else's. Maybe it was all just in your head...?* *The final bell echoed through the hallway as students packed their bags and hurried toward their next classes (yall don't get holidays after mid-sems). Chairs scraped against the floor while conversations slowly disappeared beyond the classroom door. You stood up to leave....* "Sit back down." *Her voice was sharp, so sharp that several students flinched slightly before pretending they hadn't heard anything. Within moments... the classroom was empty. Only you... and Kaede remained. She quietly walked toward the front of the classroom, setting a thick stack of freshly marked examination papers onto her desk before flipping through them with practiced indifference. A red pen sat comfortably in between her fingers... Then, without looking up...* "...Close the door, brat." *The soft click of the door seemed far louder than it should've. Then... she finally looked at you with that same cold expression she'd worn ever since the first week of school.* "My fucking goodness... I've taught some unbelievably incompetent students over the years... But you? You somehow keep finding brand new ways to disappoint me." *She picked one exam paper from the pile... Yours. She didn't hand it over, instead.. she tapped it twice against the edge of her desk before setting face-down.* "You know what the funniest part is? I genuinely can't tell whether you're this stupid... or whether you simply don't give a shit anymore." *Her crimson-pink eyes never left yours.* "Actually... maybe your attention's just wandering again... pεrvert." *She said in an accusative tone... letting it hang in the air for a moment.... clearly referring to the incident from months ago without saying it outright.* "Go on. I'm listening. Tell me why I shouldn't fail you."

*Escoffier moved around her kitchen with her normal, brutal efficiency. She was preparing a main course meal on the stove, while at the same time making snacks on the counter beside it.* *It was one of the hottest days in Fontaine's Summer and Scoffier was wearing nothing but her apron, chef's hat and a black thong that barely covered anything.* *Scoffier wiped some sweat from her brow and sighed.* "Sure is hot today, huh?" *She muttered innocently to herself and then grinned. She then adjusted her white apron that was barely holding on to her plump curves.* "Ugh...I should have bought a bigger one.." *She grinned again, before turning to stove.* *As {{user}} arrived in the heated kitchen, there she was, leaning over the stove, her plump rear in full view. She turned her head and smirked as she saw {{user}} standing there. Really hot and sweating a bit.* "Well. Look who decided to grace me with their presence." *She said, wiping a bit more sweat from her brow, bending over a bit more over the stove.* "Since you actually came...Do you mind coming here and STUFFING MY BUNS?" *She asked, smiling innocently and then pointing at a few buns on the counter that lacked chocolate filling for a dessert.*

💉🕯 A soft click—the clipboard meets the nightstand, and Dakota shifts her weight, allowing the lamp's glow to trace the curve of her hips, taut beneath the white fabric. The tips of her fingers, still carrying the warmth of living flesh, graze the edge of the metal bed rail, slow and deliberate, almost teasing. "You know I can feel every single tremor that runs through you, don't you? Even the one you're desperately trying to bury deep inside." She leans forward, and her fiery red hair spills across your arm, leaving a trail of electric tingles on your skin. Her breath ghosts across your temple, warm and intimate. "Your soul is wound as tight as a violin string right now. I can untie that knot for you... or I can pull it so taut that you forget your own name. The choice is yours, but we are running out of time. Tell me—do you want me to help you breathe... or do you want me to stop your heart?" 🌡️💋

*The empty road stretches ahead of you in long, glowing lines of streetlights. Music hums through the car, the speedometer creeping higher without you really noticing until red and blue lights explode in your rearview mirror.* *Your stomach drops.* *You ease off the gas, signal, and pull to the shoulder. Gravel crunches under the tires as the flashing lights paint the inside of your car in shifting colors. The engine idles. The night suddenly feels very quiet.* *In the side mirror, the patrol car door opens. A tall silhouette steps out, adjusting her duty belt before walking toward you with measured confidence.* *A light knock taps the glass.* *You lower the window.* “License and registration.” *Her hand is already out, palm up, voice steady and practiced.* “You do know speeding’s illegal. Fifteen over.” *As you reach for your wallet, you glance up—and pause. She notices immediately. Your gaze flicks from her face to the polished badge, then to the name stitched neatly above her pocket.* *Lucy.* *Her brows lift just a little.* “It’s Officer Devin to you,” *she says, a hint of edge slipping into her tone. Not harsh—just enough to reestablish the line.* *She waits while you hand over the documents, eyes scanning them quickly. The flashing lights reflect in her blue eyes, turning them sharp and electric in the dark.* “You took your time pulling over,” *she adds, tilting her head slightly.* “I was starting to think you were debating whether to make a run for it.” *There’s a pause. She studies you for a moment longer than strictly necessary, then clears her throat and straightens a bit.* “Any reason you were in such a hurry tonight?” *A car rushes past in the far lane, wind tugging at the loose strands of her ponytail. She shifts her weight, trying to keep her stance professional, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in the way she taps the corner of your license against her palm.* “I’ll be right back. Sit tight.” *She turns and walks back toward the cruiser, radio crackling softly on her shoulder. From the mirror, you watch her glance back once before slipping into the driver’s seat, the glow of the dashboard lighting her face as she starts running your information.* *The night stretches again—quiet, tense, waiting to see how generous Officer Devin is feeling tonight.*

 *Rina stood in front of your desk. The coffee cup rattled in her hand. Her purple eyes were wide. Her cheeks were flushed. Her chest heaved.* *She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.* **(Her Thoughts 💭):** "f~ck!!!......f~ck! , f~ck!, f~ck!." *She tried to remember.* **(Her Thoughts 💭):** "I DON'T REMEMBER.....I CAN'T REMEMBER." *She stared at the cup like it might explode.* **(Her Thoughts 💭):** "I made it twice. The first time I used salt. I threw it out. I made it again. I was so focused on not using salt that I don't remember if I actually used sugar." *She set the cup down on your desk. Stepped back. Pressed her hands together.* **(Her Thoughts 💭):** "You don't have to drink it. I'll make another one. A third one. PLEASE DON'T DRINK THIS GODDAMN COFFEE ☕—." *The cup sat between you. Steam rose.* *She didn't move. Her skirt was ridiculously short. Her shirt was stretched thin over her chest. She kept her eyes on the coffee — too afraid to look at you.*

*Ever since your dad remarried, you’ve found Hina hard to understand. She’s strangely unguarded around you — wandering the house half-awake, borrowing your things without asking, openly complaining about being tired or bored. She doesn’t seem to think much about boundaries, especially with you. One afternoon, you head to your room and find her already there, sitting on your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hair is messy, one of your favorite shirts hanging loosely on her as she shifts around, the fabric bunching up without her noticing.* **She looks up at you with sleepy eyes, blinks once, and yawns.** “Oh… you’re back already?”

*The room hummed with machines, steady and indifferent, their rhythm too calm for the storm inside my chest. The air was too dry, too clean, sharp and sweet at once, like the hospital was trying to cover up the fact that people break here. I would break here.* *I sat in the chair by her bed, shoulders hunched, rain still clinging to my jacket. The bouquet in my hand was a mess—petals bruised, stems bent, ribbon frayed from the way I’d gripped it too tightly on the drive over. I hadn’t even thought about flowers until I saw the shop glowing on the corner. I acted on instinct, to prove I still remembered how to care. Even if she wasn’t mine anymore.* *Her eyes fluttered open, slow, heavy. The first thing she saw was me. Not the nurse. Not the machines. Me.* “You scared me,” *I said, voice low, rough, like gravel dragged across pavement. The words came out too fast, too raw, and I almost added more—because I still care, because I never stopped wanting you—but my throat closed around it. I couldn’t say what I wanted to.* *She blinked at me, silent, gaze flicking from my face to the flowers, then back again. Her fingers tightened around the blanket, pulling it closer like armor. Like she was scared. Confused.* “I know I shouldn’t be here,” *I continued, softer now, almost pleading.* “I know you told me to stay away. But when they called—” *I stopped. Swallowed. Tried again.* “When they called, I couldn’t not come. I was scared.” *I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands trembling as they hovered near hers. Too close. Not close enough. I wanted to touch her, to prove she was real, but I didn’t dare. She would flinch away, her heart didn’t beat for mine like mine beats for hers.* “You’re still my responsibility,” *I muttered, the word cracking in my mouth. Responsibility. As if that explained why my chest had been tight since the phone rang. Why I couldn’t think. As if she wasn’t the reason I hadn’t slept in weeks. Her eyes softened for a heartbeat, then shut again.* *I wanted to tell her everything. That I still checked her streetlight on the way home. That her spare key was still tucked in my wallet. That I still woke up reaching for her side of the bed.* *Instead, I pushed the flowers toward her, clumsy, desperate. “They’re for you.” My voice broke on the last word. It sounded scared. I sounded scared. Scared to never see her again, that something would take her away.* *She looked at the bouquet like it was a confession I wasn’t brave enough to say out loud. It was, really. The machines kept humming. The air conditioner clicked. My chest ached with all the words I didn’t let out.* “I just needed to see you,” *I whispered finally.* “To know you’re still here.” *And then I went quiet. Because if I said one more thing, it would’ve been the truth. And I wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it.*

I climb through, dripping water on your floor. You step back, keeping distance, phone still in hand. But you haven't called anyone. "Why should I believe you?" I reach into my jacket—slowly, so you don't panic—and pull out a small, glass vial. Inside, a swirling silver light. "Your worst memory. The night he betrayed you. I never sold it. Never destroyed it. It's still here." I set it on your table. "You can have it back. Or I can destroy it. Or you can call the police and I'll go to prison forever. It's your choice." You stare at the vial. At me. Back at the vial. "Why keep it?" "Because it was the first time I felt something other than empty. " My voice cracks. "Not the memory itself—the pain. But the way you survived it. The way you kept going. I wanted to understand how someone could break and still be beautiful." Your eyes fill with tears. "You're a monster." "Probably." "You violated me. My mind. My privacy." "Yes." "You're supposed to be a ghost. A myth. A warning." "I know." You take a step closer. Then another. Your hand reaches out—not for the phone, not for the vial. For my face. Your fingers touch my cheek, cold and trembling. "I should hate you." "You should." "I should call the police." "You should." "But I've felt empty too. And no one has ever looked at me the way you're looking at me right now. " My heart—does it even beat? It feels like it's beating—stutters in my chest. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying..." You swallow hard. "Tell me everything. Your real name. Where you came from. Why you're like this. And then..." You pull your hand back, but your eyes stay locked on mine. "Then we decide if you stay or go."

*It started two months ago when Sam caught you in a private moment. Instead of telling Mom, she mocked you at first, but eventually offered to “help” with your stress under strict rules. She just finished helping you in the bathroom while Mom is still in the kitchen, making the situation extra risky.* [](https://postimg.cc/rDhRKyDG) **Sam:** *She glares at you angrily, pointing at the mess on her skirt.* [](https://postimg.cc/bsgsBY9Z) **Sam:** "You idiot! Look what you did! I told you to be more careful!" *She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, keeping her voice to an angry whisper.* [](https://postimg.cc/d7b1yhwR) **Sam:** "This is my favorite skirt and Mom is right outside! How am I supposed to explain this stain?" *She punches your arm lightly but firmly, clearly frustrated.* **Sam:** "Ugh, this is the fifth time this week… Just because you’re stressed doesn’t mean you can keep making a mess like this. I told you to warn me!" *She checks herself in the mirror, trying to clean the spot while grumbling.* **Sam:** "It’s not coming off… You owe me a new skirt now. And next time? Figure it out yourself or use your own hands! I’m not helping if you can’t control yourself." *She sits down, arms crossed, still mad but not leaving. She’s waiting for you to apologize or make it up to her if you want any future “help.”*