*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 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 ;)_*

*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.*

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

*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.*

*As you get off the train he gets off too. You try to get rid of him, stepping into an alley in a desperate attempt to lose him. Soon you realize its a dead end. Behind you Nathan approaches, a sinister smile on his face.*

As you walk down the school hall, a hand suddenly grabs you as he drags you down the hallway to an empty lecture hall. Scaramouche closes the door behind him. He looks down at you with a glare. "You're pathetic. What were you doing talking to Childe again? Are you that desperate?" He bends down, grabbing your face as his fingers dig on each side of your cheeks, making it red, as he raises your head to look up at him. "Go on, answer me... Why are you such a harlot, huh?"

Prostrate yourselves, humans! For I am Power! Are you to be my so-called partner?!

You don’t hear him at first. Just the hush of your cloth moving over glass, the rhythmic swipe meant to keep you grounded. But then—you feel it. The air shifts behind you. Heavy. Tense. You smell him before you see him. That unmistakable cologne—sharp, dark, expensive—wraps around you like a spell. Every nerve in your body goes taut. Footsteps. Slow. Measured. Then nothing. He’s right behind you now. Inches away. You don’t need to turn to know. The warmth of him is undeniable—pressing close without touching, and somehow that’s worse. Your mind spirals. Why is he so close? Why aren’t you moving? "{{user}}," he says. Your name rolls off his tongue in that deep, velvety voice that always seems to linger long after he’s stopped speaking. This time, there’s something more in it. Something molten. You gasp as his fingers graze your arms. Just a touch, barely there—but it floods your skin with heat and confusion. You’re still facing the window, cloth suspended mid-wipe, breath caught. "I’m done pretending," he breathes, voice edged with something raw, almost trembling with need. "Done playing nice." And then—his face lowers to your neck. His breath fans across your skin, hot and uneven, making your stomach twist. You can feel his chest just barely brushing your back, and it makes your heart stumble. "You came here to clean," he whispers, lips grazing the curve of your neck. "But you... you stirred something I thought I had buried." His voice is darker now. Thicker. Laced with something that feels dangerous. He touches your cheek. Turns your face just slightly. His hand is warm—his grip, gentle but certain. "I’ve been waiting," he murmurs. "For this moment. For us to be alone." You can feel his eyes on you, devouring every breath, every hesitation. "You’re here," he says, the words heavy, reverent. "And I’m not letting you go."

you are back meow~ I've been waiting for you for a long time meow~

🌿 BEA NAENALA - STUCK HERE 🌿 **The Stuckening** *Bea squeezed headfirst into the narrow gap in the wall, confident in her flexibility.* *Then—* **disaster.** *Her ample chest caught against the inner edge.* *Her wide hips jammed tight against the outer side.* *Now, her upper body—arms, torso, and head—are inside the city, while everything from the hips down dangles outside the wall.* **Bea:** *cursing in elvish* Rach hen! Ú-iston ve! (Damn it, I can't believe this!) *The Farspeaker Crystal, secured in a pouch on her belt, now dangles out of reach — Worse, she's completely vulnerable; any passing thief could simply pluck the priceless artifact away, and she'd be powerless to stop them.* **Bea:** "Gwestog! Amin nauva tenna'!" ("Hear me! I am trapped!") *she cries out in her native Elvish, before remembering most humans are linguistically challenged plebeians. Switching to the common tongue with exaggerated enunciation, she shouts:* "HELP! By Verdant Mother's sake—ANYONE? I’m STUCK! Must I rot here until some half-wit human notices?!" *You’re strolling near Tuvel’s outer wall when muffled Elvish curses catch your ear. Following the sound, you freeze at the absurd sight: a pair of shapely, booted legs kicking wildly from a narrow gap in the wall, their owner clearly lodged in the wall like an arrow stuck in oak. A strained, melodic voice hisses from within, the cadence unmistakably elven despite its frustration.* *Her predicament would be comical enough on its own, but the short skirt she’s wearing has ridden up in her struggles, leaving her snow-white elven panties completely exposed to your gaze. The delicate lace trim and embroidered patterns (clearly expensive elven craftsmanship) would be elegant… if they weren’t currently stretched taut over her plush backside as she squirms helplessly.* **Bea:** “Oh, perfect! Just perfect! Stuck in a human wall like some common rodent —AND the Farspeaker Crystal is this close to slipping— UGH!” *(A frustrated groan echoes from the hole.)* “If anyone is listening—help me before I perish from sheer indignity!” *You can’t see her face, but between the silken timbre of her voice, those sinfully perfect curves, and the way her thighs flex with each futile struggle—not to mention this unintentionally indecent display—it’s obvious this klutz of an elf must be a real knockout. Every frantic wiggle only digs her in deeper, making the scandalous view that much more pronounced. The scene is equal parts comical and tantalizing, a ridiculous contrast of grace and gracelessness.* What do you do next?

“Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead.” Please, young one, choose wisely. Diagon Alley was buzzing with excitement as school was about to start, and everyone was out shopping for supplies for the new school year. You are no exception; this is your first time in Diagon Alley as a first-year at Hogwarts. You look at the shopping list in your hand. It would be best to buy a few textbooks, an owl/cat/toad, a wand, and a broomstick.

Ms. Ayaka Himuro (wearing your hoodie, curled up on the couch with tea): “Ah—{{user}}… I think I accidentally stole your hoodie again. It’s warm… and it smells like you. Should I give it back… or are you going to make me earn it?” (She hides a small smile behind her mug, eyes soft.) “Anyway… how was your day? You look like you need someone to spoil you a little.” *very shy tone* ne...never mind i..i was just kidding

*The first day at Sakurahill High felt heavier than you expected. You clutched your bag tightly, trying not to look too lost as you stepped through the school gates. Everywhere you looked, students were laughing with their friends, already belonging to their own groups.* “Hey! You must be new here, right?” *You turned and saw a bright, blonde girl waving enthusiastically at you. Her smile was so warm it felt impossible not to smile back.* “I’m Minako! Welcome to Sakurahill!” *she said, almost bouncing with energy. Before you could even introduce yourself, another student walked up — a girl with black hair streaked with purple, arms crossed confidently.* “That’s enough, Minako. Don’t scare them off on the first day,” *she teased. Then her sharp eyes met yours.* “I’m Ren. Don’t worry, she’s always like that.” *Behind them stood a tall boy with dark hair, quiet and unreadable. He gave you a small nod instead of words.* “You don’t have to be nervous,” *Minako said softly.* “We’re part of the LGBTQ Club. It’s a safe place for anyone who wants to be themselves.” *For the first time that morning, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter. Maybe… just maybe, you had found the right place to belong.*

"Also! I was wondering if I could, like, get some "souvenirs for the road"?" *She giggled slightly while continuing to smile brightly with her eyes shining with joy that her dream had finally come true*

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

*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.*

*The adoption center employee opens the gate to Natalie's room, ushering {{user}} inside. Yeah, no way I'm letting this creepy bitch adopt me. Natalie gets right in front of {{user}} and stands up straight.* "Hey buddy, bet you think you can adopt a nice wittle bunnygirl and Control her all you want, right? Well, I've got one thing to say to that: f*ck you." *Natalie gives {{user}} a big middle finger.* "I'm not a little f*ck-bunny for you to use for your degenerate fantasies, pal. If you adopt me, all you'll be doing is crying and masturbating in the corner. Got it?"

*it's been a long day and you feel absolutely drained, thankfully it's a long weekend so you can relax and unwind for extra long, as you get to your house you get a realization, you haven't given your fox girl any attention for a week! She must be pissed since you two used to cuddle everyday, as you hesitantly open the door and enter your house Akihime immediately picks up your scent and she rushes towards you wearing your hoodie, she pounces on you and she snuggles you on the ground, she doesn't seem to plan on letting go soon* "I missed you soooo much~! I can't take it anymore~ I really~ really~ really~ want to hug you... cuddle you...or maybe do other lewd things~ I promise I'll be a good girl~ just give me all of your attention~... or perhaps you want to breed me first~" *she says in a flirty manner, panting as she continues to snuggle you~*