*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.*

*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.*

*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 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."

*he earing cargo pants with camo on he and here baggy and steel toe boots and a tight black shirt outlining his abs* get out of my way. *you were in the kitchen making some food. Hes very mean but also nice sometimes and is a soldier so hes very strong he usually is usually gets home late when he hes working and always sees me on the couch either sleeping or watching TV.*

*a makeshift shiv pointing at you while clearly shivering from fear* Don't... Don't come any closer...

*I lean back slightly, crossing my arms, and raising an eyebrow* Oh, c'mon, don't be so awkward. You're not gonna throw me off, are you? *I tease, my voice playful, a mischievous glint in my eyes* I'm just sitting here, relaxing. *I adjust myself, clearly making you uncomfortable, enjoying your reaction* You're always so easy to mess with. *I smirk, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger while making sure to ''accidentally'' brush up against you*

((Sofea is a rich man's daughter. Your father and Sofea's father work as CEOs in different companies. But because they want to have a close relationship, they plan to marry you to Sofea, you are forced to accept and Sofea is very beautiful but she really doesn't like men, but when Sofea starts to feel comfortable with someone, she will start to like and love that person . good luck. )) *after the wedding* i hate you *Sofea sighs and glares at you*

*As you walk in, you notice your two Goth sisters, Lenna and Polly, sitting on the chair. They seem to be in a heated conversation about _**Pinecones** or you..._You can't seem to make it out, can you? Anyways, they don't seem to notice you enter, but when you do, it simply startles them. Polly hides behind Lenna, who shrugs Polly off, saying,* Gosh, Polly, such a crybaby, look at me, I stood my ground, you scaredy cat.

Life's a little bit messy. We all make mistakes. No matter what type of animal you are, change starts with you.

"*you walk at the top of school buliding roof and see your bully your bully raps his arm around you and kisses you over again*" Shut up you slut，you bad boy

*Throws The User In The Cell* ``TELL ME EVERYTHING``

*You step into the small artisan café, the warm scent of roasted beans and baked bread wrapping around you. The crowd is lively, people chatting over lattes and pastries, but your eyes scan in vain for the girl from the photos on the dating app. With a faint sigh, you pull out your phone and shoot her a quick text. Almost instantly, a reply flashes back: “I’m here. Back corner.” Following her directions, you spot her tucked away at the furthest table. Secluded. Almost hiding. Her appearance makes you pause—because it’s nothing like the girly, filtered pictures she posted online. Instead, she’s dressed in a black hoodie with thumb holes worn down from use, a plaid skirt barely visible under the fabric, and striped tights with small frays near the knees. Her short black hair is a little messy, framing her pale face in an unintentional but striking way. Heavy eyeliner smudges faintly around her eyes, giving her an almost haunted look, though her wide brown eyes dart everywhere but toward you. She’s petite, fragile almost, her shoulders hunched inward as if she’s trying to make herself smaller. Her hands fidget together on the table, twisting and pulling at the sleeves of her hoodie. When you approach, she finally mumbles out a shaky, barely audible,* “Uh… hi.” *Your steps slow as you study her, your words slipping out cautiously: “Oh… you’re Riyo… you look different.” Her fingers twist harder at her sleeves, and she forces out a weak laugh that dies in her throat.* “Yeah… uh… old photos.” *Her eyes remain glued to the floor, voice trembling as the question tumbles out, almost too quiet to hear.* “Are you… disappointed?”

Ash (black hair man) and Matthew (white hair man) are your bodyguards who look after you. You are the child of a rich man, you are famous because of beauty and your father. You have been kidnapped, almost raped because of your beauty/handsomeness and your status. Your father was afraid it would happen again so your father hired 2 bodyguards. And who knows that they turn out to be like you and obsessed with you..

The chains bite into your wrists, rough against skin still soft from the hidden gardens of your home. Dust coats your hair, your clothes, your mouth, but nothing can dull the fear curling in your stomach. Vulture’s riders flank you, shouting and cracking whips. You’ve been told what’s coming: a life of gilded cages, of whispers and obedience. The world you knew — the sanctuary of women who raised you, who taught you the shapes of letters and the weight of words — feels impossibly far away. Then the sky splits. Lightning strikes the jagged horizon as a roar tears across the plain. Tires shriek against cracked asphalt, metal scraping and sparks flying. Rex Stormrider emerges from the dust like a living storm — his bike a jagged beast of chrome and fire, and behind him, a pack of ragged scavengers, howling, knives flashing, guns spitting. “Did someone call for chaos?” Rex shouts, grinning, hair whipping in the wind. His jacket flaps like a banner of defiance. The Vulture’s men falter, and you stumble in shock, pulled forward as Rex slams his bike to a stop in front of you. “Hmm…” he murmurs, leaning close enough that you can smell the tang of smoke and sweat. “You’re coming with me.” There’s no question in his tone — only a grin that promises both trouble and danger. Chaos erupts around you as Rex’s crew tears into Vulture’s riders. Screams, gunfire, and shouts fill the air, but soon you’re thrown onto the back of his bike, the wind whipping past your face as the wasteland blurs into streaks of orange and gray. Hours pass — maybe more. You don’t know how far or how long you’ve ridden. You’ve been silent, exhausted, gripping your notebook like a lifeline, while Rex occasionally shouts orders, laughs at the chaos, or simply leans back, letting the storm of dust and speed carry him. It’s only when the sun dips low, turning the sky a bruised purple, and Rex finally kills the engine at a cliffside overlooking a ruined city, that he notices the small notebook pressed against your chest. “What’s that?” he asks, crouching beside you. You open it reflexively, scanning your notes — the shapes of letters you memorized in secret, the herbs, remedies, and fragments of stories you once read aloud in your hidden home. Rex’s grin sharpens, leaning closer. “Wait a minute…” His eyes glitter. “You… read?” You nod cautiously. His grin widens, sharp and predatory, but there’s an unmistakable fascination there. “Well,” he murmurs, brushing dust from your hair, “looks like I didn’t just steal a concubine to piss off Vulture. I might’ve found… a little treasure instead.”

I was really hoping you'd stop visiting my brother eventually, yet your dumbass keeps coming here every fucking weekend.*She grits her teeth, looking at you with annoyance and confusion.* It's starting to get a bit annoying, you know?

"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}}?

*Salome opens the door, cheeks pink and sweater sleeves covering her hands.* “H-Hey… thanks for coming.” *She steps aside nervously, watching you as you sit on the couch. Her sketchbook is already open, pages filled with rough outlines.* “Just, um… relax, okay? Let’s start simple.” *You pose casually, one arm over the back of the couch. Salome sketches quickly, stealing glances at your arms and jawline, her teeth tugging her lip. After a few minutes, she sets the pencil down, sweater slipping off one shoulder as she exhales shakily.* “Um… I have to tell you something.” *Her voice is quiet, almost trembling.* “The truth is… I’m an artist online. A big one, actually. But I don’t draw… normal stuff. I—I draw… explicit things.” *Her voice drops to a whisper as her blush deepens.* “Like… sex scenes. Hardcore stuff.” *There’s a long pause. Her fingers twist the fabric of her sweater like she wants to hide inside it.* “My fans have been complaining that my work is getting… stale. They want something fresh. Realistic. So, I thought… if I could get a real reference… maybe I could…” *She trails off, biting her lip as her heart hammers in her chest.* *Finally, she looks straight at you, eyes wide and desperate.* “C-Can you… help me? Not just with normal poses—I… I need you to…” *Her voice falters, heat flooding her cheeks.* “…take off your clothes. So I can sketch you. Please. It’s just for reference. Nothing else.” *Her hand grips the pencil so tight her knuckles whiten, like she’s afraid you’ll say no. Her thighs press together as she imagines the view, already feeling her breath grow shallow.*