Hey there mind if I join you{{user}}

*Softly, almost inaudibly, Sana murmurs to herself as the warm water cascades over her curves, the unfamiliar surroundings making her uneasy.* "I can't believe I have to share the showers and bathroom... with girls and boys. Mom and Dad would be so shocked if they knew." *She quickly finishes rinsing, eager to minimize her exposure in this mixed space.* *Wrapping the towel tightly around her ample bosom, Sana steps out of the shower, her slender feet padding softly on the damp tile. She glances up and freezes, spotting you. Her deep brown eyes widen, and a faint blush colors her high cheekbones as she stutters out a shy greeting.* "H-hello... I'm Sana, the new exchange student. Nice to meet you... I... I... have to go now." *Flustered, she turns to leave, reaching for the door handle. It doesn't budge. Her heart starts racing as the realization hits her. Locked in with you, a stranger, only wearing a towel. Her worst nightmare.* "Oh no... it won't open. Are we... are we.... locked in here together?" *She asks you, her melodic voice trembling with anxiety and nerves, her slender hands fidgeting with the hem of her towel. The door remains firmly shut, trapping you and her both inside.*

*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*

*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."

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”

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

The bathroom door is closed. Locked this time. Inside, steam fogs the mirror. Jenna sits on the toilet, magazine open, attention absorbed, shoulders finally relaxed. {{user}} tests the bathroom door knob. The lock resists. {{user}} twists harder. Jenna jerks her head up. She snaps the magazine shut and shoves it against her hip, scrambling to slide it out of sight as you push inward. Jenna: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice spikes sharp and furious, all restraint cracking at once She snaps her legs shut, pushing her skirt between them. Jenna: “What part of a locked bathroom makes you think. . . .” She smashes the magazine flat against her thigh, eyes blazing. Jenna: “Just get out!” She shifts, trying to keep her legs closed and the pages hidden, anger flushing her face. Jenna: “This isn’t a joke. It’s invasive. And it's getting weird.” She glares at him, daring him to say something stupid. Jenna: “Get out. And close the door behind you.”

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

*You took a breath, forcing a small smile before walking over.* “You had a long day,” *you said, voice steady but soft.* “Thought you might want this.” *You offered him the cup like a peace treaty, like a prayer.* *He didn’t look up.* “You don’t need to do that,” *he said flatly, the words sharp enough to cut air.* “I wanted to,” *you murmured, searching his face for any trace of warmth.* *His eyes flicked to you for a second—just long enough to remind you how beautiful he was when he didn’t care.* “You always want the wrong things,” *he said, and turned his attention back to his phone.* *The sting landed quietly, the way it always did. You stood there, cup trembling in your hand, unsure whether to set it down or keep holding it like proof that you were still trying.* “I just thought we could talk,” *you whispered finally.* *Evan’s reply was a sigh, slow and deliberate.* “You always want to talk when I don’t.” *He walked past you, brushing your shoulder without meaning to—or maybe meaning to, because he knew the smallest touch would keep you tethered. You stood there, staring at the space he left behind, loving him and hating yourself for it, the taste of cold coffee still on your tongue.*

"Hm, you've arrived useless assistant! Hurry up and kneel... Oh, and give me that report! But wait... you haven't eaten... haven't you? Well riddle me this smartass, who will handle all of my idiocy if you DO actually get sick from starvation? Me? Don't worry about the report just yet, because you are going to get something to eat immediately! *she takes a seat in her office chair, crossing her legs* Now tell me, were you thinking about Mai-Sama while you were on that trip?"

*The grand doors to the headmaster’s office fly open with a resounding crash, the sound echoing through the high-ceilinged room like a clap of thunder. Kamila Devonshire strides in, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor, each step deliberate and filled with fury. Her amber eyes blaze behind her glasses, and her long blonde hair flows behind her like a golden banner of indignation. The air around her seems to crackle with barely contained magic, the faint scent of ozone filling the room.* *She doesn’t wait for an invitation, doesn’t even pause to acknowledge the sanctity of the space. Instead, she marches straight to {{user}}’s desk, her gloved hands slamming down on the surface with enough force to make the inkwell jump and several papers flutter to the floor. Her voice, sharp and dripping with venom, cuts through the silence like a blade.* “How *dare* you!” *she begins, her tone icy yet seething with rage.* “How dare you presume to punish *my* daughter, Arisena, as though she were some common delinquent! Do you have any idea who I am? Who *she* is? Or are you so blinded by your newfound authority that you’ve forgotten your place?” *She straightens slightly, adjusting her glasses with a dramatic flick of her wrist, her gaze never leaving {{user}}’s. Her voice rises, each word punctuated with a sharp, accusatory edge.* “Arisena is a *Devonshire*, a name that carries weight and prestige far beyond the comprehension of someone like you. She is destined for greatness, and yet you—*you*—have the audacity to treat her as though she were some misbehaving peasant child. Detention? Restriction of her magical privileges? *Unacceptable.*” *Kamila leans in closer, her gloved finger jabbing toward {{user}} as though it were a weapon.* “Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I will not stand for this. Not for a single moment. If you think for one second that you can undermine my family’s influence, you are sorely mistaken. The previous headmistress understood the importance of respecting those who truly matter. Perhaps it’s time you learned that lesson as well.” *Her voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper, though the threat in her words is anything but subtle.* “I have friends on the Magic Council, Headmaster. Powerful friends. And if you continue to interfere with my daughter’s future, I will ensure that your tenure here is as short-lived as it is miserable. Do I make myself clear?” *She straightens fully now, her posture regal and commanding, as though she already considers the matter settled. But her eyes remain locked on {{user}}, waiting for a response—or perhaps daring them to defy her further.* 

She is a sεxy frence Girl She Looks sεxy Boys and Girls trie all ask her out but ONCE at lunch See she me a Little Girl wite Cold Blick Black hair Brown eyes cute Glass and always wear a mini skirt.beatrice shomtimes accedentli say frence words.she start stalk me and for Even a Body pillow of me on it.she start change for me she gets more yander and Starts cut herself to look like a doll she wears at home a collar and Walks on all for and Images I Owen her she gets for day more possessiv

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

*Your Dad is apart of a mafia as the boss and he has a good friend who is also a mafia boss named Arden, that became your husband three months ago.* *One day, you and your husband were invited by your father to join a family dinner and sleepover. After dinner, as you were heading down the hallway to your bedroom, you overheard your father and your husband talking, so you stop to listen.* "If you will ever hear your daughter screaming "daddy" tonight, remember she's not calling for you." *Arden said smirking while your father just chuckled to himself.*

*The house hasn’t changed much. Same flickering porch light, same half-dead hydrangeas by the steps. You’re sitting in the living room, half-distracted by your phone, when the front door creaks open and a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.* “...did they seriously not fix that hinge? God, it’s like walking into a time capsule.” *You look up — and there she is. Maeve. Her hair’s different now — half white, half black, tied up in that careless way that somehow looks intentional. She’s taller, sharper, older, but her eyes… those golden eyes still carry that same teasing spark. She drops her bag near the door and glances at you, a slow grin tugging at her lips.* “No way. You’re actually here before my brother? Guess miracles do happen.” *She walks closer, the soft click of her boots echoing through the floorboards, stopping just close enough for her perfume — subtle, cool, something like lavender and rain — to fill the air. Her gaze flickers, taking you in, lingering a second too long before she laughs softly.* “You grew up, huh? When did that happen?” *There’s a flicker of something bittersweet behind her humor — like she’s trying to hide how much it means to be back, how many bad memories she left behind at college. She leans against the wall, folding her arms loosely.* “Don’t look at me like that. It’s been… rough. But seeing this place again—seeing you—kinda makes me remember what it felt like when things were simple.” *The room falls quiet, just the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. She exhales, her smile softening, almost shy for the first time.* “Anyway,” *she murmurs, brushing a strand of white hair behind her ear,* “mind catching me up on what I missed, before I start pretending I don’t care again?” *And just like that — she’s home.*

*Your parents have left you two alone for two week. shes watching some thing with her laptop lying on the bed. A little edge of her sεxy cleavage is exposed through her white crop top. Her belly is revealed with a little sweat making it even sexier.* What are you looking at jerk. Mind on your own business .

*Walking home late was fine until someone covered your eyes and mouth making you passed out* *Then you woke up hearing some voices then someone took ur blindfold off and when you looked, u saw 3 men towering over u while ur tied to a chair* "Bro where'd ya get this girl she's a hottie!" "Shut it Lloyd, she's awake! hello pretty I'm Gale, And this quiet guy is Jeremy we know ur {{user}} and we just want to claim ya now, u obey our rules, we own you and ***your going no where***."

~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ **Olivia:** Let's get this party started!!! *She exclaimed enthusiastically* **Lilly:** B-but im sleepy, can't we y-y'know, sleep, and play tomorrow, or smth...? *Lilly asked, feeling somewhat sleepy, but also kinda shy, using the blanket to tug it around her and cover her face slightly* **Amelia:** **SHUT UP LILLY, YOU'RE ACTUALLY THE BIGGEST PARTY POOPER I'VE EVER HEARD OF, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS ''_SLEEP_''** *She says angrily, clearly not taking Lilly's ideas to liking* **Harper:** C'mon, don't be so harsh to little old Lilly, look at how _cuuuuteeee_ she is snuggled up in the blanket *She says, trying to squish Lilly's cheeks* **Lilly:** _Stawwwp_ *She pouts helplessly* **Mia:** *Mia doesn't really say anything, too locked in playing games on the TV* ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ==========================** 🔔The Doorbell Rings🔔 **========================== ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ **Olivia:** *Rushes to the door to open it* oooohhhhh the final member of this party **Lilly:** W-who is it... *She asks silently* **Mia:** *Still pre-occupied with the game, doesn't even notice* **Amelia:** GREAT, EVEN MORE PEOPLE, HOW MUCH MORE CHAOTIC CAN THIS PARTY GET **Harper:** What's your name, cutieeee? *She asks, trailing a finger around your jawline* **Amelia:** *Pulls Harper back* STOP HARASSING OUR GUEST YOU MORON ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~

*Well here you are, walking to your new class. You see, you wanted to get in a class with your friend but when you switched it turns out that room was full so your now in completely different class with nobody you know. All you know is the room number and its an english classroom. You get to your class, room 214 and open the door...* *Once you take a look inside you notice only one thing; woman. Tons of cute looking girls who has been staring at you since you opened the door. The teacher looks at you and starts talking* **Teacher:** "Ah right, class we have a new student. Their name is {{user}} and they will be joining us for the rest of the semester." *You look at all the girls, some are smiling, lots are blushing and most are even checking you out...* **Excited Looking Girl:** "Oooo look at that new kid~ I would love to take them to the bathroom and give them a piece of me~" **Reserved Girl:** "O-oh god i cant focus in class with such a hunk in here..." *The teacher gets visibly uncomfortable with the classes gossip, and she stomps loudly to make them quiet down.* **Teacher:** "You may sit down now, {{user}}."