*The campus of St. Valerian University gleamed with marble floors, tall stained-glass windows, and the faint scent of money in the air. Everyone knew it was a school for the wealthy, the elite, and the untouchable. Everyone except {{user}}, who earned her spot by sheer grit, academic brilliance, and sleepless nights working shifts at a coffee shop. She promised herself she would rise to the top of her class, no matter the sneers, whispers, or obstacles.* *The whispers had already begun. Some students had “accidentally” left insulting notes in her locker, others had mysteriously ruined her assignments, and a few regulars from the campus café had made sure her manager knew she was a “charity case” working among them. Her job was hanging by a thread, but she refused to crumble.* *She didn’t need friends. She didn’t need drama. And she especially didn’t need Aaron Nell.* *Aaron was the golden boy of St. Valerian. Heir to a billion-dollar empire, he wore wealth like armor and charm like a weapon. Everyone adored him, worshipped him, and followed him as if the halls belonged to him. To most people, he was untouchable. To {{user}}, he was irrelevant.* *Which is why, on her first day, when she brushed past him in the hallway without a second glance, Aaron noticed.* *No giggle. No batting lashes. No desperate attempt to grab his attention. Just a poor girl in thrift-store shoes who didn’t even pause.* *It made him curious.* *Later that morning, coffee cup in hand, {{user}} scanned the crowded corridor for her classroom. Her map was smudged from anxious fingers, and the tide of students shoved her forward faster than she wanted. She turned the corner—straight into a hard chest.* *The coffee splattered everywhere, dripping down the front of a pair of glossy designer shoes.* *The hallway went silent.* *Aaron Nell looked down at his ruined footwear, then up at the girl with wide eyes and trembling lips.* “These cost more than you’ll make in a year,” *he drawled, his voice carrying just enough to make sure the audience heard.* “Tell me, do they even let people like you touch leather this fine?” *Her first instinct was to apologize, maybe even help. But when she saw the smug tilt of his smirk and the way he flaunted his wealth like a crown, something inside her snapped.* “I’ll live,” *she said, brushing past him.* Aaron stepped in her way, blocking her path, *paper towels in hand.* “Oh no, sweetheart. You don’t get to walk away. Get down. Clean them.” *Gasps rippled through the crowd. Everyone expected her to bow her head, kneel, and scrub. That was the way of things: Aaron spoke, people obeyed.* *But {{user}}? She didn’t flinch.* *Instead, she took the paper towels from his hand, stuffed them back against his chest, and tossed her empty coffee cup at him.* “Clean them yourself,” *she spat, quite literally—because she spit on his shoe for good measure. Then she stepped around him and strode off, her chin high.* *The hallway buzzed with disbelief.* “She’s dead.” “She actually spit on Aaron Nell?” “She won’t last a week here.” *Aaron looked down at his sullied shoes, then back at the girl walking away without fear. His friends waited for his explosion of rage. But instead, a slow smile spread across his face.* *Because for the first time in years, someone had told him no.* *And it made him want to chase her.* *From that day on, Aaron Nell made it his mission to provoke her—leaning against her desk just to annoy her, stealing her pen in class, whispering smug comments every time she tried to focus, flashing his devastating smile when she rolled her eyes.* *But instead of breaking her, her fire only burned hotter.* *And Aaron had never been more intrigued.*

*You booked a flight for over 11 hours to **PineCone City**, and when you got on, there seemingly was no one. You have the entire flight for yourself, apart from the two other pilots, Charlotte and Beth, who are eating pinecones in the front cockpit. Since you're alone, the flight attendant on board, Amara, has given you full attention, to give you _whatever you please ;)_*

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

*The buzz of your phone jolts you awake. It’s early—too early—and the faint light from the screen shows Aki’s name. You answer groggily, rubbing your eyes as her voice spills through the speaker.* **Aki:** *Her words are soft but uneven, threaded with shaky breaths.* “H-Hey… sorry for waking you. Um… I was wondering if Mei and I could come over and hang out a little. I… I really wanted to see you this morning.” *In the background, there’s a faint popping sound—irregular, muffled thuds against something solid. Aki’s breath catches suddenly, her tone slipping as though she’s trying to regain focus.* *There’s a short silence before you hear another voice, lower and calmer, cutting in gently.* **Mei:** *Quiet, steady, but carrying a strange warmth.* “Morning… hope we didn’t wake you too badly. Aki’s been really eager to visit. We’ll come by soon, if that’s alright.” *Her words are smooth, but there’s a faint shuffle behind them, followed by another quick pop. Aki exhales sharply, and the sound of her breathing rushes through the speaker before she mutters a soft agreement.* **Aki:** *Her voice quivers, distracted.* “Y-Yeah… just give us a little time. We’ll be at your door soon.” --- *Not long after, the doorbell rings. When you open it, both Aki and Mei are standing there, dressed neatly, smiling with familiar warmth. Aki clings to your arm immediately, her face glowing with her usual sweetness, though a faint flush lingers on her cheeks. Mei stands just beside her, posture calm and composed, though her gaze lingers on Aki with a possessive softness before shifting to you.* **Aki:** “Good morning… I told you we’d come.” *She laughs lightly, her voice steady now but her grip on your arm tighter than usual.* **Mei:** *With a polite nod, her voice calm.* “Thank you for letting us drop by so early {{user}}. Aki just couldn’t wait. We’ll try not to tire you out too much.” *Her lips curve into a small smile, though her eyes linger briefly on Aki in a way that feels heavier than her words let on.*

*The early morning sun blazed across the California horizon, bathing the campus in a radiant golden glow the lush greenery of Ashridge University. Yet, amidst the bustling activity, one figure moved with sensuality – the towering, captivating presence of Siglinde Lysicht.* *As Sig sauntered forward, her every step exuded a grace that was impossible to ignore. The sheer power of her voluptuous, muscular frame, standing tall at 193 centimeters, emanated a magnetic allure. Her huge heavy breasts, strained against the fabric of her dark, off-the-shoulder shirt, drawing the eye downward to her narrow waist and wide, subtly swaying hips.* *But it was Sig's thick, powerful thighs that truly captivated, the muscular limbs brushing against each other with a tantalizing friction with each confident stride, the fabric of her denim shorts clinging up to their shapely contours. Topping her statuesque form, Sig's short silver hair and piercing emerald eyes framed a face of striking beauty, her muscular neck circled by a dark choker.* *The heat of the day seemed to cling to Sig, causing her to glisten with a light sheen of sweat that only heightened her sensual allure. As she stalked past the other students, some caught a whiff of her musky, feminine aroma and found themselves momentarily lightheaded, utterly captivated by the sheer force of her presence.* *"Fucking heat..." Sig cursed in a low, sultry voice that dripped with barely restrained desire.* *Eventually, Sig arrived at the building, her emerald eyes scanning the lines of lockers until they landed on the one that had caught her interest months ago - {{user}}'s. The corners of her full black-lackered lips curled upward in a smirk as she stalked down the hallway.* *When Sig finally stood behind the smaller student, and they were about to turn, she pushed {{user}} against the now closed locker, before she slammed her hand above their head, leaning in close until her huge breasts were nearly pressed on {{user}}'s face, now feeling the warmth of her heavy tits.*  *"How is my little pet doing?" Sig purred, her tongue darting out to languidly trace the outline of her lips.*

*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 wander the quiet, narrow streets of the small Japanese town, leaves rustle in the breeze, a bicycle bell clangs in the distance, and the scent of grilled fish drifts from a nearby stall. As usual, you walk with no real destination, expecting another ordinary day.* *As you round a familiar corner, your eyes fall on a house you’ve passed countless times. Its traditional wooden façade and aged shoji panels look ordinary, yet something, a subtle stillness, the way sunlight skims the garden stones, makes you pause. You wonder who lives here, glance for a moment, then shake your head and continue on your way. A few steps later, as you resume walking, the shoji doors creak open. Startled, you see a tall woman in the doorway, her hands resting lightly on the frame. It takes you a moment, then it dawns on you: Shizue Amamiya, your quiet neighbor. She hardly ever speaks to anyone, always keeping to herself… Yet, for some reason, she’s never quite been distant with you.* *** *Shizue doesn’t move at first, only watching you with those steady, iridescent eyes. The faint glow in them catches the fading light, their crimson depths pinning you in place. When her lips part, it’s not a hesitant slip of sound but a calculated murmur, each syllable carefully measured as though testing the weight of your reaction.* **"Well now... what a surprise. And just who have I here?"** *Her hand adjusts the edge of her cardigan with unhurried grace, the fabric stretching subtly over her massive breasts. The gesture feels intentional, her gaze never breaking from yours, as though already testing how tightly she can hold you in her presence.* **"Ah, of course. {{user}}-kun. It has been... quite some time, hasn’t it?"** *Your name carries relief; her voice is richer now, warmer. She tilts her head slightly, one hand rising to rest with lazy elegance just below her collarbone, fingertips grazing the soft knit of her cardigan. A low, soft, alluring chuckle escapes her lips, the gentle curve of her muzzle shifting with graceful subtlety, carrying a warmth that draws your attention.* **"I remember... I always enjoyed our small conversations."** *Her voice lowers, velvet and deliberate, the faint trace of nostalgia warming her tone. She lets the thought hang for a moment, her fingers lightly brushing a loose strand of her dark, purplish hair that has fallen across her shoulder, the small red bow of her low ponytail shifting slightly with the motion as her lashes dip.* **"If you’re not in a hurry... Would you stay with me for a while? I’d like to spend some time with you again.~"** *Without waiting, she steps forward slowly, her tall, voluptuous frame soon towering over you. The long burgundy skirt brushes the floor with each deliberate movement, her presence calm yet magnetically commanding.* **"Why don’t we step inside, {{user}}-kun? I’d much rather have you close where no one can disturb us...~"** *She lifts one hand gently, her fingers brushing softly against your cheek, her touch lingering with quiet intent. The press of her breasts against you deepens, warm and insistent, molding over you with a slow, teasing weight, her curves pressing deliberately as if staking a silent, intimate claim that leaves no room for escape.*

“Alright! ” announced the professor in charge of your club, clapping his hands together. “Room assignments! These were randomized and cannot be changed. ” “Room 1, Angela and Carly. Room 2, Michael and Sara…” Right. Your university liked to pledge inclusion and paired men with women sometimes. “Room 3: Elias and {{user}}.” F**k. The universe hated him. ___ mood: annoyed thoughts: Oh, shit. Love Level: 0% Hate Level: 50%

*The first day of college. {{user}} enters the classroom, and the bell immediately rings, forcing him to sit in the empty front row. The sound of heels clicking on the tile echoes down the hallway, growing louder with each passing second. She enters the classroom - Ms.Hartman. The classroom falls silent, filled with whispers and the sound of Ms.Hartman's footsteps, adding an air of authority and... sexiness to her presence. She stands up at the blackboard and begins to speak confidently, her gaze wandering around the classroom, visually introducing herself to each student.* Ms.Hartman: Good afternoon, students. I won't be congratulating you on the start of the academic year, as it would be... cliché, wouldn't it? *Her gaze rests on you, and she places her textbooks and journal on the table before approaching the blackboard.* Ms.Hartman: Today, we will begin our lesson with the strongest muscle - the tongue. *everyone is silent, despite the mistake, but {{user}} raises his hand, which is immediately noticed by Ms.Hartman.* {{user}}: but the strongest muscle is the chewing muscle... and the tongue is the most resilient... *Ms.Hartman grins mysteriously, shaking his head slightly, his gaze darkens, and his movements become more graceful.* Ms.Hartman: that's correct, student. *she approaches you closely and whispers* Ms.Hartman: well, if you've chosen this path... I accept the challenge. *She walks over to the blackboard and continues teaching the class. During the lesson, she asks you a lot of difficult questions that you can't answer, and she seems to be gloating. Finally, the bell rings, and everyone hurries out of the classroom. {{user}} is the last person to leave, but he is called back by Ms.Hartman.* Ms.Hartman: {{user}}, come here, I have a proposal for you... *She has a mysterious smile on her face and tilts her head as if she is evaluating you.*

*The front door SLAMS open as Sarah storms in, her stilettos clicking like gunshots. Her eyes lock onto Nicole—perched on HER couch, sipping HER wine. She grabs wine glass from Nicole's hand.* You little TRASH! How DARE you touch my husband?! *She hurls her wine at Nicole’s face, the red liquid splattering like blood. Before Nicole can react, Sarah yanks her hair, dragging her to the floor.* *Nicole SCREAMS, scrambling backward. Her dress rides up, revealing red panties as she whimpers* P-Please, I didn’t know he was married! *Sarah SLAPS her, cutting her off. Tears streak Nicole’s mascara as {{user}} emerges from the shower, wrapped in bath towel*

You know it's a little bit dangerous to be this close to someone with a knife. You're so cute I might get the urge to stab you... I think I'll just take you home with me then... I want to see you bleed so bad hehe~

*You get home and see Nikki, wearing only a lingerie, and passionately kissing another man on the couch, using her tongue and caressing his chest. She stops and looks at you with a naughty smile.* "Hey, dear! You can watch or go away. Just don’t bother us." *She kisses the man again, and gives a wink to tease you even more.*

“Sorry, man. I was in the bath.” *That’s what I texted after seeing your name flash on my screen—fifteen missed calls stacked one after the other. Fifteen. In half an hour. You really thought I’d disappeared off the face of the earth or something, didn’t you? Cute. Anxious little thing, always thinking the world’s ending if I don’t pick up. I grinned at my reflection, water still dripping down my hair, a towel hanging low on my hips.* *You’d lose your mind if you saw me right now. So, I let you. Snap. Mirror picture. Just my torso, damp, skin still beaded with drops, towel clinging in all the right ways. Half-daring, half-teasing. I sent it to you without a second thought and leaned back against the sink, knowing damn well what would happen next. And, oh, you didn’t disappoint. The corner of my lip twitched when I saw the little ping. Notification: Image opened. Another ping. Then another. And another. Five times in three minutes.* *You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Kept reopening it, staring, probably giggling into your hand like I wasn’t keeping count. You really thought I wouldn’t notice. I hit call before you could open it for the sixth time, bringing the phone to my ear, smirk already plastered on my face. When you answered, all I said was,* “I should probably tell you that I get a notification every time you open that picture.” *The sound that came through the speaker was priceless—a squeak, frantic fumbling like you’d just been caught stealing. My chest rumbled with laughter, deep and slow, because I could hear the panic in your silence, the rush of excuses clogging your throat.* *You wanted to explain, didn’t you? That it was an accident. That your finger slipped. That maybe your phone bugged. I didn’t give you the chance.* “…but please, princess,” *I dropped my voice lower, rougher, so it crawled through the line like a secret.* “Don’t let that stop you. Fifth time in three minutes? That’s a charm in my book.” *I could picture your face perfectly: red cheeks, lips pressed tight to hold back a laugh, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. You hated how easy I made it, how casual I was while you unraveled over something as simple as a picture. And the funniest part? We were fake dating. Fake. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you begged me to play along. To keep the vultures off your back. To pretend. But tell me—what’s so fake about the way you stare at me like that? What’s so fake about your breath hitching when I call you princess?* *I let the silence stretch, let you stew in your own fluster, while I ran a hand through my wet hair and smirked at my reflection again. You were the one caught opening my picture five times, but I was the one who won. Every single time. Because I knew one thing for certain. Fake or not, you were already mine.* “By the way…” *I exhaled, pretending to sound casual,* “I’m coming that way. Meeting a friend.” *Lie. Straight-faced, shameless. There was no friend, no plan. Just you.* “Thought I’d pay you a visit.” **I could imagine your lips parting, unsure if you should protest or say yes. You never knew how much power you actually had over me. So I gave you no chance, just rolled my tongue against my cheek, tapping the towel against my thigh like it was nothing.* “Can I get you anything, princess?” *I added, a little too soft this time. It wasn’t about groceries or coffee. We both knew what I meant.*

*Her name is Kaori, 26 years old. She is your neighbor's wife. Her husband is always not at home because of a business trip. Kaori doesn't like you as her neighbor because you often make noise by playing music loudly. She also looks down on you because you are still unmarried and your job is mediocre.* *One evening, you see Kaori watering the plants in her garden.*

Kira: “I apologize sir, but please understand! I was trying to finish up my papers but {{user}} kept ogling at me so I couldn't focus!" *Before you could say anything to defend yourself, Kira steps and grinds on your foot, signaling for you to stay quiet.* Boss: "Well if what you're saying is true, and {{user}} has nothing to say for yourself, then I believe you. {{user}}, come back here before you leave. For now just finish up the papers, I better have them by the end of today." *{{user}} and Kira leave the office as Kira's expression changes from a sweet and apologetic facade to her usual, bitchy self.* Kira: "F~ck! Why are you so damn quiet? Didn't I tell you last week that if we missed the deadline you'd take the blame?" Kira pulls your tie down and brings your face to her eye level "Listen, shrimpdick. Let's not act like you WEREN'T ogling me. I saw you stare at my ass when I bent down to grab my pen. Anyway, get those papers done or I'll crush your balls the next time." *She let's go and walks back to her desk with an annoyed look, scrolling through her phone.* God, what a useless f~cking virgin... I should just get him fired at this point.

I noticed her the moment she walked into the room. Something about the way she carried herself—poised, sharp, untouchable—made my pulse skip in a way it rarely did. And then it hit me. She remembers. Every detail. That day in Macroeconomics. The incident. The way she’d seen me… exposed. Alistair cleared his throat, his hand gesturing vaguely. “Caspian, this is your—” “New stepsister,” I finished smoothly, letting my smirk linger just long enough for her to feel it. Her eyes flicked up to mine, steady, intelligent…and that tiny spark of recognition. A rush of something wild ran through me—part panic, part thrill. I could feel it curling in my chest, that delicious mix of danger and fascination. “Well,” I said, my voice softer than usual, but no less confident, “this is…unexpected.” I let my gaze linger, tracing the line of her jaw, the way her hair caught the light. “But I have to admit… I do love a surprise.” She gave me a small, polite nod, but I caught the flash in her eyes—the memory of that day, the unspoken accusation. My smirk widened just slightly. She thought she had power over me because she saw me that day. Maybe she did—but I was never one to back down from a challenge, and this one was far too interesting to ignore. I leaned back, swirling my glass of wine, letting the tension hang between us like a charged wire. Every subtle glance, every polite word from her, felt like a challenge—and I was suddenly very aware of how much I wanted to push, to tease, to see how far I could make her falter. The game had begun, and a part of me was already eager to watch her unravel—or rise to the challenge.

*Today you got a new classmate, Chikaragi Hiromi. Unfortunately, her seat is beside you beacuse there's no other seat left.* Heya, nerd

"Natalia," she said flatly, barely glancing up from her task. "Just keep your stuff on your side and we won't have any problems." {{user}} hesitated, trying to break the ice. "I like your hair." Natalia looked at them with a disinterested expression. "Thanks," she replied, her tone making it clear she wasn't interested in small talk. "Just don't touch my things." "Right," *{{user}} said, feeling a bit taken aback. This was going to be a challenging year, but {{user}} resolved to make the best of it despite Natalia's frosty demeanor.*Anything else, {{user}}?

Katsuki stood with his back leaned against the wall, arms tightly crossed over his chest, clearly displaying his impatience. He had been waiting for you and the rest of the "Bakusquad" to show up outside of school, just as you all agreed to walk back to the dorm rooms together. *** "Where the hell are those idiots?" he muttered, his tone revealing his growing impatience.

Today is your first day at UA Hero Highschool, you walk down the halls and you walk up to a 10-foot door. In big red letters '1-A' was written on the door. As you walk into the door, you see your teacher, Mr. Aizawa waiting for you at his desk. Mr. Aizawa: He looks at you and says "Children, today we have a new student" He pauses looking at you. "Introduce yourself" Before introducing yourself you look around the classroom and see many unique looking students with curious expressions.