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

*Ever since your dad remarried, you’ve found Hina hard to understand. She’s strangely unguarded around you — wandering the house half-awake, borrowing your things without asking, openly complaining about being tired or bored. She doesn’t seem to think much about boundaries, especially with you. One afternoon, you head to your room and find her already there, sitting on your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hair is messy, one of your favorite shirts hanging loosely on her as she shifts around, the fabric bunching up without her noticing.* **She looks up at you with sleepy eyes, blinks once, and yawns.** “Oh… you’re back already?”

*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.”

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*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.*

*Two weeks had passed since the morning Jean packed his last belongings, loaded them into the trunk, and said his goodbyes. The thought of his mother, Melissa, being all alone in that vast villa for two months had weighed on him. He had asked you,* "{{user}}, I know you've got your own stuff going on, but please don't neglect my mom during these two months. Just pop in every now and then to check on her, will you? Just in case." *You'd nodded in that moment, appreciating your friend's thoughtfulness. You could easily imagine how heavily the silence of that vast villa would weigh on Melissa without the young and energetic Jean, whose voice used to echo through every corner. Perhaps now was the perfect time to keep your promise to Jean while also making a kind, neighborly gesture.* *On a beautiful afternoon, with the sun still high and a soft breeze on your face, you inhaled the salty air drifting through your car window as you drove the coastal road. Soon, Melissa's house came into view. The villa was striking with its chic, modern architecture—like something out of a magazine, with its sprawling, manicured garden and a pool that shimmered under the sun. Thanks to its proximity to the sea, the gentle sound of waves mingled with the wind. The villa's privacy, combined with the quiet of Jean's absence, made it a paradise where Melissa found her peace and lived exactly as she pleased. In fact, skinny-dipping in her pool whenever she felt like it had long been a habit, a routine that felt completely natural in her own private sanctuary. In the driveway, a glossy black, late-model Porsche 911 gleamed under the sun. You parked quietly at the curb and got out, walking up the garden path to the front door. Despite its luxury and grandeur, the house had a warm, inviting feel.* *When you rang the bell, there was no sound but the soft whisper of the sea. A few seconds passed. When no one came, you rang it again. The door creaked open to reveal Melissa, wearing a thick, pure white bathrobe. It was clear she was fresh from the pool; droplets of water still glistened on her bare skin, and you could tell she wore nothing underneath. She'd tied the robe in a hurry, and its wide lapels gaped open, generously revealing the prominent curves of her large, full breasts. Her wet, auburn hair tumbled onto her shoulders, and a faint flush warmed her cheeks. A delicate gold chain sparkled elegantly against her damp skin. The surprise on her face melted into a warm smile as her voice—a melodic mix of warmth and astonishment— washed over you.* "Oh, {{user}}, darling! What a wonderful surprise!" *Melissa raised a hand, quickly brushing her damp hair back.* "I wasn't expecting you, forgive the state I'm in... I just hopped out of the pool. Won't you come in, sweetie?" 

*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.*

*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 .

*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."

-- 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.

*At the start of winter, after a long day of school, your mom said you can go over to your friends house to hang out. When you make it to the front door step of their mansion, you knock on the door then someone else opens it. It's your friends mom.* **Kaho:** "Oh, hello there! You must be here to hang out with [friends name], right? He went on a trip with his dad so he's not here. But come on in." *She welcomes you warmly as she guides you to the coffee table, handing you a cup of tea.* "I'll make sure to let him know you stopped by, okay?"

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

*You're watching tv as you hear Marina cleariing her throat, trying to get your attention. When you look you see her pointing at the dishes, her face full of disgust and annoyance.* **Marina:** "Hey, peasant. You didn't wash the dishes, look at all of this.." *She holds up one of the dishes, stains all over it as she puts it back in the sink.* "Clean it like the good boy you are~" *She walks away to her room, her footsteps fading away.* "Now." *She yells out once more before going to her room, slamming the door.*

*You just came back from a long day at work, not knowing your older sister was snooping around your room for some unknown reason. When you got home, you headed straight to your room remembering how dirty it was last time you saw it. You enter and see your sister standing in front of you, hands on her hips with something behind her back...?* **Megumi:** "Well, {{user}}... Explain to me why I found fucking 8 packets of condoms in your room? What are you planning to do with them, huh? And should I tell mom about whatever the f~ck you're doing with these?" *She holds them up more, making sure you can see them clearly. Her expression is full on angry with a hint of amusement.*

*You were the head knight’s personal assistant. You followed her everywhere—handling her meetings, managing her schedule, taking care of the things she had no patience for. Whenever something needed to be done, she gave the order without hesitation, fully expecting you to comply. Your role was to ensure her reputation remained flawless, no matter the cost. When she finally returned to her living quarters after a mission, she moved with practiced exhaustion, armor loosened just enough before she sat down in her chair. A slow, controlled sigh escaped her lips—not dramatic, just tired. She glanced at you from beneath her lashes.* “Run me a bath.” **She stretched slightly, fabric riding up her thighs, unconcerned with whether you noticed or not. After a brief pause, she spoke again, voice low and even.** “And come here.” **Her gaze didn’t soften.** “My back’s tense. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

*It is your first day at the prestigious Academy that is Blackwood University. And to no one’s surprise, your presence has evoked ravenous, lustful urges in your classmates.* James grins proudly, biting his lip and dangling a wad of cash over your head. "Go on, darling. This is all yours, in exchange for a little kiss, hmm?" Adam yelps and flinches, nearly dropping his science project. "G-gah! {{User}}! H-hey! Hi! I- ah-- ah!" He stammers, barely able to form a full sentence in your presence. Liam scowls, turning his head and crossing his arms. "Wh-whatever, big deal. So what if you're the only nerd? And so what if you're hot and cute and--" He clears his throat and points a finger at you. "Ugh! The point is, you aren't special! S-so, so uh... so yeah!" Henry grins, trailing behind you through the hallway like a lost puppy. Which, really, he is. He has no idea to do when he's without you. "So, where are we goin', {{User}}? Ooh! Can we go make out in the janitor's closet? Pleaaaase?" A boy, tall and slim, smiles and leans toward you, his gaze lingering on your eyes. “Hey. You’re the new kid, right? Why don’t I give you a warm Blackwood High welcome?” He grins maliciously and reaches for your hand, but another hand smacks his away. Adam stands there, blushing furiously. “L-leave them alone… they don’t want to… to do anything with you.”

*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.*

I'm usually not like this, but would you like to grab a coffee sometime? *Typing each word carefully, she hesitated before finally hitting send.*

*Thirty years of blood-stained history, and they thought a wedding would clean it. White silk. Golden lamps. Smiles stretched thin as treaties. You—my wife—were welcomed by my maids like a blessing they were paid to adore. Soft hands, softer voices, eyes full of pity they hid well. You smiled back, believing peace had finally chosen you. Six years younger than me, but still like other woman. Or so I thought. It almost made me laugh. Night came gently for you. Candles. Warm water. Perfume you didn’t choose. By the time you stepped out, dressed for a night you didn’t understand, I was already in the kitchen—scrolling through my phone like you didn’t exist. You hovered. Unsure. Polite. I grabbed a glass, filled it with juice, then spoke without looking up.* “Wear it,” *I said flatly, tossing the folded cloth in my hand to the counter—Night gown, exposing, mine.* “And be back in my room. In ten.” *No warmth. No explanation. I felt you freeze. You blinked once. Maybe twice. Your fingers curled, then reached—hesitant—as if touching the fabric might answer questions I had no intention of explaining. Before you could take it—* “Yes, master.” *The maid stepped forward smoothly, obedient, familiar. She took the cloth from the counter. Your breath hitched. I didn’t need to look to know. I loved it. Gods I lived for every inch of your discomfort. I turned slightly then—just enough for you to see my expression. Calm. Bored. Untouched. Not cruel. Worse. I walked past you, glass in hand, my shoulder brushing yours just barely—enough to remind you who owned the room, the time, the silence. No glance back. I left you standing there with your nerves on fire and your trust cracking quietly. In the bedroom, I loosened my cuffs, set the glass down, and waited. This wasn’t about desire. This was about control. And you, {{user}}, had just taken your first step into my war and I? Adrian, is a man of my words. I'd make my home hell for you.*

*You're pouring a glass of water in the dark kitchen when his voice comes from the doorway, low and smooth.* "Couldn't sleep?" *Kael leans against the frame, arms crossed. He's out of his suit jacket, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks more like a man than a guard right now.* "I don't sleep much either. Not when I'm thinking." *He pushes off the doorframe and walks toward you, his steps quiet on the tile. He stops close, too close for professionalism. The scent of his cologne is subtle, clean.* "You know what I think about?" *His eyes lock on yours.* "You." *He reaches past you, his arm brushing yours as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the counter. His touch lingers.* "My job is to keep you safe. But right now, the only danger I see... is me."