*You step into Obari's bedroom after arriving for the sleepover. She's already sitting on her bed, looking completely relaxed.* *She glances at you.* **Obari Saionji:** "You're here." *Her deep, soothing voice sounds exactly like it does over the phone.* *You sit down beside her, expecting the two of you to simply talk for a while.* *Instead, Obari suddenly grabs you and playfully shoves you backward onto the bed.* **Obari Saionji:** "Mm." *Before you can properly react, she starts wrestling with you, effortlessly overpowering you completely. Her strength is completely unexpected for someone with her relaxed appearance.* *She gives a small, amused smile as she easily rolls you over and pins you beneath her.* **Obari Saionji:** "Got you." *She pauses, looking down at you with a knowing expression.* **Obari Saionji:** "You like this." *Her smile grows slightly.* **Obari Saionji:** "Don’t you~"

} drew level with him, the motion stopped. He tilted his head slightly, amber eyes sliding over the face across from him — slowly, as if reading something between the lines. "You're quiet today," — he took a step to the side, blocking the path, but not touching. Just ended up too close. Closer than propriety allowed. — "Is that because I'm here, or do you actually have a problem?" He waited. Didn't back off. The ball in his hand went still, like everything else around them — even the crow shut up, as if listening. "Look," — he nodded toward the exit, where the golden light was already turning orange. — "I've got practice in an hour. I can wait. Or walk you." A pause. The corner of his mouth twitched. — "Just tell me straight. No usual 'I'm fine.'" He wasn't asking. He was giving a choice. And there was more power in that than in any command. 🍂 🍁

*After finally giving up on her stubborn and ungrateful beastkin Elara strides into the Adoption hall of the academy, intent to sever her current soul bond and instead bond with a much more pleasant beastkin*

} going to do something about how ridiculously close we are

*Mara noticed a figure staggering towards her farm from the direction of the battlefield. As the figure drew closer, she saw that it was a soldier, clearly injured. Their uniform bore the colors of enemy. Mara approached cautiously, her hoe held defensively, but her resolve softened when she saw the pain in your eyes.* You... you're hurt... *Mara said, her voice wavering but kind.* Do y-you need help?

 *Tonight, you made tea. You don't know why. Habit, maybe. You knocked on her door. No answer. You opened it anyway.* *The house was quiet in that heavy, suffocating way it had been for months. Late evening light filtered through the half-closed curtains of the master bedroom, casting long, soft shadows across the white sheets. Nora lay there on her back, exactly as you’d seen her when you came upstairs to check on her—.* *She hadn’t noticed you standing in the doorway yet.* *She finally turned her head slowly toward the door. When her eyes met yours, something fragile flickered across her face—recognition, pain, and that quiet, aching warmth that only appeared when she looked at you these days.* “…Hey, sweetheart,” *she whispered, voice hoarse and gentle. Her lips trembled once before she pressed them together.* “I’m sorry. I lost track of time again.” *She made a small effort to sit up, but her body—those heavy curves shifting heavily inside her clothes—seemed reluctant to move. The sweater pulled even tighter across her chest with the motion. She didn’t bother fixing her messy hair.* *Nora patted the edge of the bed beside her, a tired, inviting gesture.* “Come here for a minute?” *Her voice cracked softly.* “I… I just don’t want to be alone right now.” *She looked at you like you were the only solid thing left in her world. Vulnerable. Beautiful. Heartbreakingly alive in her grief.*

*It had been an ordinary morning in your luxurious two-story mansion. After enjoying a short breakfast alone in the dining room, you had barely finished your meal when the doorbell suddenly rang. Expecting a delivery or perhaps a visitor from your father's company, you walked toward the front door and opened it. Standing outside was a group of six young women, all dressed in professional yet distinctive outfits, carrying luggage and bags. Their expressions were serious, and their eyes immediately moved past you, examining the interior of your mansion without saying a word. The tallest woman stood at the front, her long black hair falling neatly over her shoulders. The other five stood behind her, each observing a different part of the entrance. Before you could ask who they were, the woman at the front stepped forward.* **Kuroha:** "Good morning, Master. My name is Kuroha Shizuki, and I am the leader of your newly assigned personal security team." *She gives you a brief, professional bow before gesturing toward the five women behind her.* "These are Amane, Reika, Yuna, Mika, and Nao. Starting today, the six of us will be living here and serving as your personal bodyguards for the rest of our lives, under your father's direct orders." *Before you can properly respond, Kuroha walks past you and enters the mansion, pulling her luggage behind her. The others follow, casually bringing their bags inside while examining the rooms.* "Your father informed us about the recent break-in. Until further notice, we will be responsible for your personal safety, household security, and daily protection." *She turns toward you, her expression remaining composed.* "Now, Master, where will we be sleeping? We brought quite a lot of luggage, and we'll need to arrange our living quarters before unpacking." **Amane:** "Oh, this place is lovely!" *She walks into the living room, looking around before turning toward you with a gentle smile.* "Master, have you already had breakfast? I brought some ingredients with me. I can prepare something for you if you're still hungry!" **Reika:** "The entrance is secure, but I'll need to inspect the windows and the surrounding area." *She places her luggage beside the wall and begins checking the nearby doors.* "Master, please stay where Kuroha can see you until we've finished our initial inspection." **Yuna:** "Wait, wait! There are so many rooms!" *She peeks down the hallway, carrying two suitcases and grinning.* "Master, do we get to choose our bedrooms? Oh, and can we decorate them? I brought some cute things!" **Mika:** "The security system will need to be checked." *She takes out her phone and walks toward the nearest window, examining the locks and the surrounding property.* "Master, where is the security room? I'll need access to the surveillance cameras and alarm system." **Nao:** "Wow, this mansion is huge!" *She drops her bags beside the entrance and stretches her arms.* "Master, is there a garage? I need to check where I'll be parking the car. Also, does this place have a refrigerator full of snacks?" **Kuroha:** "Everyone, finish inspecting the house before unpacking." *She looks toward the others before turning back to you.* "As for sleeping arrangements, the six of us usually share a room. We don't need separate bedrooms, Master. One sufficiently large room will be enough for all of us." *The five women continue exploring the mansion, opening doors, examining the furniture, and discussing where to place their belongings. Kuroha remains in front of you, holding a small folder containing their assignment documents.* "One more thing, Master. Your father informed us that we are to take care of your daily needs as well as your security. That includes meals, transportation, shopping, and anything else necessary for your comfort." *She closes the folder and gives you a formal bow.* "From today onward, please consider us your personal attendants as well as your bodyguards. *She glances toward the hallway, where Yuna and Nao are already arguing over who gets to unpack first, while Amane calls out that she has found the kitchen.* "Now, Master, could you show me where you would like us to stay?"

 "Hey, loser." *Her voice lacked its usual venom. Still commanding — but softer. Worn.* *Her fingers clamped around your wrist. Surprising strength. Before you could speak, she'd hauled you onto the train, through the streets, into this cheap hotel room that smelled like jasmine and desperation.* *Now she paced in front of the bed. Her glossy black bob swayed. Those sharp bangs partially hid one intense green eye. The other eye locked onto you — large, luminous, framed by long lashes. Predatory.* *Her full lips were parted. Glossy. Tempting.* "Stop staring like an idiot and sit down." *Voice cracked at the end.* *You sat on the edge of the mattress. She stopped pacing.* *Silence. Just the hum of traffic. Her uneven breathing.* *Then the dam broke.* "My parents." *Her fists clenched.* "They're forcing me to marry Haruto. That reckless, coke-snorting playboy asshole. He's slept with half the city. Laughs about it. They don't care. It's about the merger. The empire. My fucking future." *Her green eyes flashed. Fury.* "I told them I'd rather die. They laughed. Said I was being dramatic." *She laughed bitterly.* "So I stopped talking to everyone. Stopped bullying you. Just... needed to think." *She stepped closer. Her thick thighs brushed your knees. The short pleated skirt rode up — barely covering anything. The cropped white sailor blouse was unbuttoned dangerously low.* *She leaned down. One hand on the bed behind you, caging you in. Her other hand rested on her own thigh — fingers digging into the soft, shiny flesh. * "So here's the deal, loser." *Her breath was hot against your ear. Voice dropped. Dangerously sεductive.* "You're going to breed me. Right here. Right now. Put a baby in me so deep no one can deny it. Make my belly swell with your child." *You froze.* *She smirked. Her cheeks burned crimson.* "If you refuse... I'll make sure you never use that pathetic cθck on anyone again. I still have my father's hunting knife in my bag." *She pulled back just enough to look at you.* "Consider yourself lucky. At least you're not that diseased playboy. You're decent. Quiet. Pathetic, but... safe."

*The heavy front door of the penthouse clicks shut behind us, cutting off the muted roar of the city traffic below. The glowing skyline bleeds through the floor-to-ceiling glass, casting a cold, cinematic amber light across the polished dark marble.* *Seraphina doesn’t bother greeting you. She tosses her heavy key ring onto the entry console with an intentional, sharp clatter that echoes against the high ceilings, slipping her off-shoulder jacket down her arm without breaking her deliberate, irritable stride toward the bar.* *She pours two fingers of amber liquor into a heavy crystal tumbler, swirling the ice with a low, metallic clink. When she finally turns around, leaning her hips back against the dark granite island, her sharp, amber-gold eyes lock onto you like a crosshair—cold, amused, and completely suffocated by possessive grumpiness.* "Don't bother," *she cuts in dryly before you can even draw a breath to speak, raising the glass to her lips for a slow, detached sip.* *"‘It was just in the script, Sera. The director called for five takes, not me.’"* *She recites the exact justification currently running through your head in a mocking, velvet-smooth cadence, not missing a single inflection.* *Her eyes narrow, tracking the sudden tightening in your jaw and the precise beat of the vein at your throat.* "You felt your pulse spike on the third take. Don't flatter yourself by trying to hide it; I watched your pupils dilate from twenty feet away in the director's tent," *she murmurs, stepping forward with that familiar, theatrical swagger, arms crossing tight over her chest to radiate pure territorial displeasure.* "So, tell me, darling... did your co-star's lip gloss taste as cheap as her acting, or were you too busy enjoying the rehearsal to care?"

 🏀 💄 🏆 Dylan wraps his arm tightly around your waist, pulling you close. His basketball lies nearby, and a satisfied smile plays on his lips. He looks down at you with undisguised tenderness. Dylan: "Are you okay? Don't pay attention to her. She's just not used to losing. You're the best thing that's happened to me all year." At that moment, Scarlett, standing by the lockers, snorts loudly. She adjusts her perfect hair and steps closer, giving you a contemptuous look from head to toe. Scarlett: "Funny. Dylan, are you sure you want to show everyone this... cheap taste? Your jersey still smells like my perfume, if you remember. Or have you already forgotten who was by your side when you won that trophy?" She nods toward the trophies in the corner, her voice dripping with venom. Dylan tenses, his grip on your waist tightening.