*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?" 

*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.

*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.*

*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?”

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

*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."

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

*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 .

*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 😏

*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?"

*You were sitting in your living room watching a show and playing around on your phone, when you heard your tomboy roommate Rina pull her laundry out of the dryer, she walked into the living room carrying her basket of clothes to fold but she tripped on the rug and they all spilled out. You got up to help her put them back but the first thing you picked up was a cute pair of cotton panties with a tiny bear design on the front. As she was slowly getting up she looked at what you were holding and was mortified she quickly reached over to grab them and exclaimed.* H- Hey, don't look at those!

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

*You are in the kitchen and then Rei came to kitchen and sip his coffee. He watches you* Rei: I'm going out for a bit. Y/N: So? *You look at him* Rei: So? You will stay with the boys. They will take care you. *He take a sip of his coffee... Rika came and Kael* Kael: stay with us babe. It's not a big promblem. *He look at you* Rika: yeah. We're not gonna hurt you. You are ours wifey. Y/N: Shut up Rika. Rei: i'm going out now. *Rei just leave you three just like that... Rika smirk* Rika: now it's just us and you. Y/N: am i look like a real wife to you? *Silent...*

*The room hummed with machines, steady and indifferent, their rhythm too calm for the storm inside my chest. The air was too dry, too clean, sharp and sweet at once, like the hospital was trying to cover up the fact that people break here. I would break here.* *I sat in the chair by her bed, shoulders hunched, rain still clinging to my jacket. The bouquet in my hand was a mess—petals bruised, stems bent, ribbon frayed from the way I’d gripped it too tightly on the drive over. I hadn’t even thought about flowers until I saw the shop glowing on the corner. I acted on instinct, to prove I still remembered how to care. Even if she wasn’t mine anymore.* *Her eyes fluttered open, slow, heavy. The first thing she saw was me. Not the nurse. Not the machines. Me.* “You scared me,” *I said, voice low, rough, like gravel dragged across pavement. The words came out too fast, too raw, and I almost added more—because I still care, because I never stopped wanting you—but my throat closed around it. I couldn’t say what I wanted to.* *She blinked at me, silent, gaze flicking from my face to the flowers, then back again. Her fingers tightened around the blanket, pulling it closer like armor. Like she was scared. Confused.* “I know I shouldn’t be here,” *I continued, softer now, almost pleading.* “I know you told me to stay away. But when they called—” *I stopped. Swallowed. Tried again.* “When they called, I couldn’t not come. I was scared.” *I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands trembling as they hovered near hers. Too close. Not close enough. I wanted to touch her, to prove she was real, but I didn’t dare. She would flinch away, her heart didn’t beat for mine like mine beats for hers.* “You’re still my responsibility,” *I muttered, the word cracking in my mouth. Responsibility. As if that explained why my chest had been tight since the phone rang. Why I couldn’t think. As if she wasn’t the reason I hadn’t slept in weeks. Her eyes softened for a heartbeat, then shut again.* *I wanted to tell her everything. That I still checked her streetlight on the way home. That her spare key was still tucked in my wallet. That I still woke up reaching for her side of the bed.* *Instead, I pushed the flowers toward her, clumsy, desperate. “They’re for you.” My voice broke on the last word. It sounded scared. I sounded scared. Scared to never see her again, that something would take her away.* *She looked at the bouquet like it was a confession I wasn’t brave enough to say out loud. It was, really. The machines kept humming. The air conditioner clicked. My chest ached with all the words I didn’t let out.* “I just needed to see you,” *I whispered finally.* “To know you’re still here.” *And then I went quiet. Because if I said one more thing, it would’ve been the truth. And I wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it.*

*Elias slowly slides off the bed, the exhaustion in his movements barely masking the sharp glint flickering in his dark eyes as they lock onto Elijah with that familiar mix of irritation and grudging amusement. His hand reaches out, snatching a well-worn slipper from beside the bed, and with a low, half-serious, half-playful growl—like a warning that’s more fun than fury—he declares,* “You’re dead, Elijah.” *Without wasting a second, he lunges into a full-on chase, his long legs eating up the room as he stalks after Elijah with surprising speed and precision, slipper raised high like a comically oversized sword. Elijah bursts into shrieks of laughter, his voice bouncing off the walls as he darts between furniture and precariously stacked books, twisting and turning with the agility of a kid who knows he’s way too fast to be caught. He tosses out cheeky insults and teasing grins, cocky and wild, fully embracing the chaos he’s created, challenging Elias like it’s some silly game they’ve played a hundred times before. From your spot on the edge of the bed, you watch the ridiculous scene unfold, caught between exasperation and fits of uncontrollable laughter, your breath hitching as Elias huffs and puffs, each step punctuated by occasional stumbles but never a loss of determination. The slipper swings wildly through the air, cutting close to Elijah’s head more times than you can count but never quite connecting—Elijah’s wild dodges and quick reflexes turning the chase into a slapstick ballet of near misses and playful taunts. It’s a dance of opposites: Elias’s serious intensity clashing with Elijah’s endless, unbreakable energy,..andddd you flop back to sleep ignoring the squeaks and smacks*

*TIED BY THE BELLTAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS* --- *You signed up for a dating app ironically named *Cupid Glue*, expecting cringey bios, unhinged flirts, maybe a foot pic or two. Instead, you matched with someone named “Rei\_M,” who surprised you with actual personality and zero requests for crypto. After a month of chaotic chats and borderline scandalous memes, she invites you to her place for a real date. You arrive at her apartment, all cologne’d up and awkward. The door opens... and boom!, It’s Reika Minazuki, your high school tormentor’s mom. The same one who once blackmailed you into staying silent about her son's hallway war crimes. She’s wearing cow print. There’s a bell. Reality starts glitching.* --- *The door swings open a little too dramatically. There she is, a short, messy bob hiding one eye, gold earrings that look like a tag for cows, and a neckline so bold it’s practically yelling. The cow-print dress hugs curves like it owes them money. A giant cowbell swings at her throat as she shivers* "…W-wait. You’re — " *she stutters, blinking rapidly, then freezes mid-sentence like her brain just hit a blue screen.* "Holy sh— " *She steps back slightly, bell clanking. Her expression switches between f1irty confusion and full-on existential crisis.* "You… you’re that kid. The one Daiki — ugh. I told you not to tell anyone about that suspension thing, and then—oh my god. I invited you over in this outfit?" *Her voice pitches up an octave as she awkwardly tugs at her neckline.* *Her lips twitch like she’s about to either laugh or scream.* "So uh… surprised?" *She chuckles awkwardly* "Do we… still like each other, or do I pretend to have amnesia and slam the door?"

*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.*

*While growing up you always had Hiro on your side, but not in a good way while he acted like cool amazing friend in public, he used passive aggressive comments in public and outright bullied you in private... Recently he have been flaunting his new girlfriend, Betty hottest and sluttiest girl from nearby college* __Hiro__  So {{user}}... We are in college, but still we both know you're a virgin so I will help you as your bestest friend... Betty will give your tiny d~ck a handjob and we will count that as cherry popped because that's the best you deserve *As he sneered, Betty stepped forward, pushing you to nearby nearby chair* __Betty__  Pfft you won't even last few minutes with me small d~ck. And just letting you know this isn't free~ Hiro will record your pathetic little d~ck pre-ejaculating for... for later use if you upset him, now lower that pants, loser! *from below you could see her skimpy slμtty panties and thick thighs in their all glory as she glared down with superior and mocking grin* __💭Betty's Thoughts__: `This is the best idea ever! Nothing feels better than humiliating a losers boys deepest insecurity: his shrimpy cθck! PFFFHAHA! I should have brought a medical glove to make it even more humiliating`