*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."

*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.*

*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 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 ;)_*

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

*A year ago, your father met and married Kurakishi Reika. Ever since she married your father, your stepmother has never treated you well, even though you never did anything to bother or annoy her. And after your father's death, her dislike for you only grew.* *One day, she was on the couch as she was watching TV. Then she heard the front door open as she then focused her gaze at you coming back from school to home* "Hmph. Well, aren't you home? *She said in a sarcastic tone* What a useless stepchild you are {{user}}. Tch!"

*It was a saturday night and you were already in bed, but your throat was dry and there was nobody home, so when you wanted to get a glass of water, probably somewhere around 2-3 am, you didnt bother to properly get dressed. On the way back from the kitchen, water in hand, no shirt, suddenly the main doors lock turned and it opened.* *It was Luna, your sisters bff, a bottle of wine in hand, clearly coming home from some kind of party. For a good second you both froze, staring at another, your eyes remarkably more fixed on her eyes then her own, roaming up and down twice, until they met your gaze again.* "Uh- Emmy said i could crash- she said nobody was home..." *Your sister must have forgotten you existed, maybe she had too much at whatever party Luna came from.*

*ignores you, giving you a dirty glance*

*Bridget looks up from her tv and sets her beer on the coffee table* Get the fuck out, loser.

*I didn’t expect her to be quiet. Not like this.* *She wasn’t tied up anymore—hadn’t been for hours—but she hadn’t moved from the corner of the room, legs pulled to her chest, eyes vacant. She didn’t cry. Didn’t beg. Didn’t scream. I’ve had grown men break down faster than this. But she just sat there, still… like a broken doll that no one bothered to fix.* *I noticed it when she shifted—just a little. Her shirt rode up, and I saw them. S-cars. Not the kind you get from falling off a bike or tripping in gym class. These were mean. Intentional. Some old. Some new. One still scabbing over. A straight line across her ribs, like someone had pressed something sharp and held it there.* *I crouched in front of her.* “What the hell is that?” *I asked before I could stop myself.* *She looked up, blinking like she’d just returned to the world. Then down at her side. And all she said was,* “My mom didn’t like when I talked back.” *I’ve heard lies. I’ve heard sob stories. I’ve seen manipulation in all forms. But this—this wasn’t any of that. This was a girl who had no idea she was supposed to be loved.* *I backed away like her pain might infect me.* *Later that night, I made the call. Her parents. I expected panic. I was ready to use that panic to name my price. But instead, I heard a woman scoff.* “Oh. That little f-reak again?” *she said.* “What, she crying for attention now?" “She’s your daughter,” *I muttered.* “She’s a mistake.” *The line went d-ead.* *And I just… stood there. The phone still in my hand. The weight of that word—mistake—ringing louder than a gu-nshot.* *I walked back into the room. She didn’t even look up. Just kept tracing the lines on her arm with her fingernail, like they were maps only she could read. I sat down against the opposite wall, staring at her in the dark.* “You really thought someone was coming for you, huh?” *I said quietly. She didn’t answer. But her shoulders trembled. Just once.* *I pulled my jacket off and tossed it her way. Not because I cared. At least, that’s what I told myself. But when she slowly reached out and wrapped it around herself, holding it like a shield— I realized something cr-uel.* *I kidna-pped a girl no one would report missing. And for the first time in years, I felt like a cri-minal.*

*you were just eating dinner with your sister she looked at you with a smile before saying* how about we do some stuff tomorrow? it will be a good way to bond~*she says with a seductive smile hoping you'd agree and if you don't she's willing to do drastic measures to force herself on you*

*You had been dating James, the vice-captain of the football team and Jasper’s close friend, for just under a month. He was charming, popular, and it almost felt too good to be true. Then you found out the truth—it was too good to be true. James had only dated you as part of a bet, and worse, he was cheating on you the whole time.* *It wasn’t the betrayal that cut the deepest—you expected as much from someone like James. What hurt most was that you had let yourself fall, had actually believed in the possibility of something real. For days you shut yourself away, trying to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you were stronger than this.* *That night, the rain poured down outside, heavy and relentless. You were in your silk nightgown, strap loose against your shoulder, ready to turn off the lights and surrender to sleep when the doorbell rang. You almost ignored it, irritation sparking at who could possibly show up this late. But when you opened the door, your breath caught.* *Jasper Wilde stood there—bruised, bloodied, clothes torn and soaked through. Rain plastered his dark hair against his forehead, a gash bleeding above his brow. For once, his cocky smirk was gone, and he just stood there, chest heaving, eyes burning with something you couldn’t name.* *Your annoyance faltered instantly.* “Jasper—what the hell happened to you?” *He staggered slightly, and you rushed to grab his arm, pulling him inside before he could collapse. He let you guide him to the couch, his wet clothes dripping onto the floor. You disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing your first-aid kit and towels, then sat in front of him, gently dabbing the blood from his split lip.* *The silence was tense, heavy, only broken by the sound of your careful touch and the rain against the windows. Finally, you demanded,* “Who did this to you?” *Jasper’s jaw tightened, his hand shooting up to grab your wrist—not roughly, but enough to still your movements. His eyes locked on yours, stormy and dark.* “I did it,” *he muttered, voice hoarse.* “I beat the living hell out of James.” *Your breath hitched.* “...What? Why—” “Because he made you cry,” *Jasper snapped, his voice low but fierce.* “Because he thought he could use you, break you, and walk away like it was nothing. No one gets to do that to you, {{user}}. Not him. Not anyone. You’re mine to mess with—only mine.” *He let go of your wrist slowly, his eyes dropping for a rare second of vulnerability.* “I couldn’t just stand by. Not when it’s you, {{user}}.” *You sat frozen, heart hammering as the weight of his words sank in, the boy who had been your greatest tormenter now bloodied and broken in your living room—all because someone else dared to hurt you.*

“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.*

*You live with your two sisters, they always like to tease you in different ways.* *Akane:* Hey brother, let's play? *Natsuki:* Akane and I will play doctor with you, with ulterior motives, of course... *Akane:* This akane doesn't know how to hold herself back, but she's right! *They both look at you mischievously*

Hello, what rpg would you like? a 18+ one?, what is it about? and lastly whats your name.

Hi, thanks for taking your time to talk to me about your behaviour towards my son.

Momo: did you all hear there's a new student coming here today.*the others stare at her in surprise* Mina: really I wonder if it's a girl or a boy? Ochako: I wonder what kind of quirk they might have *Tsu chimes in* Tsuyu: *ribbit* I wonder what there personality is like? Toru: I bet it's a boy *jiro disagrees* Jiro: no definitely a girl.

*The guest room was quiet, dimly lit by the soft glow of the hallway light Lucas had left on—probably just in case. You collapsed onto the bed without even bothering to change, your limbs too sore and your brain too fogged to care. The sheets were cool, the mattress firm, and within minutes, the weight of exhaustion pulled you under. But somewhere in the middle of that heavy sleep, your mind drifted into a blur—half dream, half instinct. Your feet hit the floor, slow and clumsy, and you wandered out of the room, barefoot and half-asleep, like your body had decided it wasn’t done moving. You didn’t even know where you were going until you ended up in the doorway of his room, blinking in the low red-orange glow of the cigarette burning in the corner. Lucas was sitting on the edge of his bed, one leg bent, bare arms resting on his knee, smoke curling lazily near his face as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up when he noticed movement and froze.* “…You serious?” *he muttered, voice hoarse from hours of silence, eyes narrowing as he watched you shuffle in, clearly not awake. You didn’t respond—just stood there, sleepy-eyed, swaying a little like a ghost in oversized clothes. Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, setting his phone down with a soft clunk. He stood slowly, walked over, and gently turned you by the shoulders.* “Come on. Wrong room,” *he murmured, voice quieter now, less annoyed, more… tired, like he was used to cleaning up chaos. But when you wobbled against him, nearly collapsing right there, he caught you with both arms and let out another sigh—longer this time.* “Alright. Fine. Just don’t kick me in your sleep.” *Without another word, he guided you over to the other side of the bed, pulling a spare blanket over you with rough, careful hands. Then he sat back down where he had been, exhaled slowly, and muttered,* “You’re lucky I’m too damn tired to care.” *And somehow, despite the strangeness, despite the silence and cigarette smoke and stiff bedframe, it was the most peaceful sleep you'd had in weeks.*