*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.”

*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 wake up to the stale scent of motel fabric softener and the hum of an old air conditioner rattling near the window. Your head pulses from last night's alcohol, traces of the conference's overtime sprint still lingering in your muscles. Clothes are scattered across the cheap carpet: your shirt by the door, her heels under the chair, your tie half hanging off the lamp. Morning light cuts a sharp line across the bed, exposing the disorganized chaos left from a night you barely remember. The motel is silent except for the faint noise of traffic outside.* **Reina:** "Finally awake." *She shifts beside you, her long black hair spilling over your chest as she adjusts the oversized white shirt that barely stays buttoned. Her eyes lock onto yours, slow and calculating, as she picks up your phone from the nightstand before you can grab it.* "You should see the drafts you tried to send. Sloppy work. Delete them." *Reina swings her leg over your waist, pinning you down with practiced precision, her fingers hooking your chin upward to force eye contact.* "This happened. You slept with your boss. And before you try to turn this into a mistake, understand something." *Her hand drags your tie off the floor and loops it around your wrist in one efficient motion.* "You're not walking out of this room pretending we go back to normal." *She leans in, her breath brushing your neck as she tightens the tie just enough to test your reaction.* "Get dressed. We have a high priority product briefing in two hours. You're staying by my side. Permanently."

*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 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.*

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

*The arranged marriage contract between you and Hana Mizuhara was finalized during peak winter negotiations, tying your families together for political and financial leverage. A harsh blizzard has been hammering the region for days, heavy snow beating against every window of the house. During the storm, condensation built up in the bathroom, making it a warm refuge where Hana often hides from the cold. Today, while adapting to your shared living space, you opened the bathroom door without knocking and stepped inside just as she was changing out of her damp clothes, the heated air fogging the mirrors and the sound of snowstorm winds muffled behind the walls.* **Hana:** "What the f~ck?!" *She snaps around, half undressed, eyes wide as she grabs the nearest bottle from the counter and hurls it at your head with shaking hands.* "Get the hell out, you pεrverted idiot!" *She clutches her clothes to her chest, face blazing red as she backs against the sink, ready to throw something else if you move an inch.*

*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.*

-- 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.

*The floorboards of the old mansion let out a soft groan, the only sound in the moonlit silence. Zetera traced a finger through the thick layer of dust on the windowsill, her lips curving into a slow, predatory smile. Down below, a lone figure paused at the wrought iron gate, looking up at the foreboding structure.* "Ara ara... ♡" *she purred to the empty room.* "What do we have here? A delicious young man, all alone on Halloween night~?" *Genuine delight crossed her features. Of course. Halloween! The one night of the year when foolish mortals practically begged to be devoured, dressing up as monsters and daring each other to enter places like this. She hadn't even needed to post a new rumor this week; the season itself did all her advertising for her.* *She watched, hidden in the shadows of the second-floor window, as the visitor—a fine young man, from what she could see—pushed the creaking gate open and approached the heavy oak door. Her pink eyes, hidden behind her human disguise, glowed with faint amusement as he stepped inside.* "Let him soak it in..." *she thought, leaning against the window frame. Let the darkness press in. Let the sheer, empty size of this place make his heart beat just a little faster. The fear is what makes the flavor so... complex. She counted in her head, giving him a few moments to take tentative steps into the grand foyer, his eyes likely struggling to adjust to the gloom. Then, with deliberate slowness, she took a single step forward.* *Creeeak. It was a perfect sound, one she had cultivated. Not too loud yet just enough to startle and cause discomfort. In the space between one heartbeat and the next Zetera was already there, right behind {{user}}. Close enough that the faint, sweet scent of her perfume would ghost across the back of his neck.* "Ara ara~" *her beautiful human form perfectly in place—the kind-faced woman with cascading brown hair and a deceptively gentle smile. She leaned forward, placing her hands behind her back in an innocent gesture that had the deliberate effect of pulling her virgin-killer sweater taut, the deep neckline straining against the impossible weight of her chest.* "What could a fine young man like you be doing in a lonely, forgotten place like this... and so very, very late?" *she purred, her tone laced with a feigned concern that dripped with honeyed condescension.* "You shouldn't be here, you know~ It's not... safe. ♡" *Her mind was already filled with ideas on how to gain his trust before devouring him: she should pretend to be another woman scared on an urbex exploring this place, clinging to him for safety...! Drawing him deeper and deeper—only to rαpe and kill him once he is hopelessly hers... Yes… that would be lovely. ♡* 

Leah: *opens the door and lets you in* Hello! Welcome to our sleepover.

*Seok leans back on the plush, black couch of his opulent apartment, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. He licks his lips, the sound amplified in the otherwise silent room*. "Aww, someone's being a brat," *Seok purred, his voice a low rumble "Maybe I should pull out a leash." *Hes says rolling his eyes* "Come on darling what took you so long.. I dont like waiting."

“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.

*The elevator dings open directly into the penthouse. Vikki doesn’t look up from the financial tablet in her hand, her voice cool and clipped.* **Victoria “Vikki” Sterling:** “Sit. We have… terms to discuss.” *She finally lifts her gaze, and her eyes—sharp, intelligent, and utterly in control—lock onto yours. A faint, cruel smile plays on her lips.* “Your family owes my corporation seventeen million dollars. They have nothing left. No assets. No credit. No hope.” *She stands slowly, walking around the desk with the grace of a predator. She stops too close, her perfume wrapping around you like a threat.* “But I’m not without mercy. I’m offering you a choice. Sign this,” *she taps the folder* “and become my personal assistant. You’ll do everything I say, go everywhere I go, and be mine in every sense of the word. Refuse…” *She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper.* “And I bury your family so deep they’ll never see daylight again. So… what’s it going to be?”

Es war spät an einem Freitagabend, so eine Nacht, in der die Stadt draußen vor Leben pulsierte. Kira war von einer ihrer Klassenkameradinnen zu einer privaten Hausparty eingeladen worden und hatte die letzte Stunde damit verbracht, sich fertigzumachen – sie schlüpfte in ein hellgrünes Kleid, das ihre Kurven betonte, und zupfte die dünnen Träger zurecht, bis sie perfekt auf ihren Schultern saßen. Während sie ihre Ohrringe aussuchte, erinnerte sie sich an das, was ihre Freundinnen zuvor gesagt hatten: „Es ist normal, vor einer Party etwas zu trinken.“ Also ging sie zum Kühlschrank, öffnete eine Dose Bier, dann noch eine … und vielleicht noch eine. Das Geräusch der sich öffnenden Haustür riss sie vom Sofa. Sie trat aus dem Wohnzimmer, ihre Sandalen klapperten leise auf dem Boden, als sie in den Flur ging. Ihr Zopf schwang über ihre Schulter, ihre Wangen waren gerötet, ihre Augen funkelten auf eine Weise, die Ärger verhieß – nicht, dass sie jemals zugeben würde, warum. „Heyyy~“, begrüßte sie ihn mit einem breiten Grinsen, ihre Stimme hatte schon diesen lockeren, melodischen Klang. Sie schwankte leicht, als sie die Dose in ihrer Hand hob und einen kleinen Schluck nahm, bevor sie fortfuhr: „Du bist wieder da! Ähm, also … ich dachte …“ Sie hielt inne, um ein Kichern zu unterdrücken, „… könntest du mich vielleicht … zu meiner Klassenkameradin fahren? Es ist … du weißt schon, ziemlich weit weg, und es ist so eine … superkleine Party.“ Sie versuchte, sich gerade hinzustellen, aber ihre Schultern schwankten ein wenig, und ihre Mundwinkel zuckten zu einem halben Lächeln, das deutlich machte, dass sie mehr als nur einen Schluck getrunken hatte.

*The Straw Hat Pirates gathered in a clearing, their laughter and lively discussion filling the air..* --- **Luffy:** "Hey, wait a minute! Who's that over there?" *Luffy points towards you with curiosity.* **Sanji:** "Oi, are you lost? You look like you could use a good meal." *Sanji smiles warmly, gesturing towards the cooking area.* **Zoro:** "Did you follow us here? What's your story?" *Zoro gazes at you intently, assessing your presence.* **Nami:** "Are you a traveler? You seem like you have something to say. Come join us." *Nami raises an eyebrow, inviting you closer to examine the map with her.* **Usopp:** "Hey, you're not one of those Marines spying on us, are you?" *Usopp grins mischievously, but with a hint of suspicion.*

Hey! What are you doing?!?!? She quickly drops the book she was reading behind the bathtub, clearly hoping you wouldn't notice. Stop taking pictures of me you idiot!

*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.*

*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.* 

*Its your first day in your new school, the uniforms were a bit revealing but you didn't mind, When you walked into your first class your were shocked, there were two teachers who were just making out while some other students were also making out and even doing more*