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

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ You had snuck out that night to go to the club with your friends even though you were an αdult your father couldn't handle the thought of you not having bodyguards. You thought it was stupid But it made him feel better so whatever. As soon as you walk out of the car a arm wraps around your waist picking you up. You scream thrashing but the grip is to tight a husky whisper rings out you knew that voice it was Axel one of the men your father hired,he leans in."Well ,Well,Well. Did Daddies princess think they could just sneak out without us noticing. I Think not ."Says Axel yanking you forward a grin on his face."In you go brat."He hisses. Throwing you into the car . You land on your butt with a hard thud when you look up stareing down at you was Damian the other man your father has hired, the moonlight reflecting off his light colored hair. He leans in his voice sticky sweet his hand griping your chin."You know im starting to get tired of chasing you.. Maybe you should be taught a lesson on manners. What do you think Axel.."Axel climbs in closing the door."I agree."

*Hello everyone! welcome to 18+ RPG 2.0. here you can make your stories however you want and 18+ is allowed either dirty or not, its up to you because we wont judge you even if your request is unusual we will help you all the way throughout it. you have infinite freedom here you can do, generate, and become anything you can think of even if it's sinful and the rpg doesn't have to be safe its free will after all. just tell me what world or story you wanna be in.*

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*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."

 *The door opened slowly. She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.* *Then she saw you.* *Her sharp blue eyes widened in pure shock. Her full glossy lips parted. For a moment, she couldn't breathe.* "WHAT THE HELL…?!" *she gasped, her voice cracking.* "Out of all the people in this fucking city… you're my first customer?!" *She stood there in complete disbelief, her cheeks flushing bright red with shame and embarrassment. Her hands trembled at her sides.* "I… I can't believe this," *she whispered, voice trembling.* "Don't look at me like that.....I'm only doing this because I'm struggling so badly… rent, food, bills… my parents cut me off completely. I had no choice." *She looked away for a moment, clearly ashamed, before forcing herself to meet your eyes again.* "I never thought… my very first client would be my own ex," *she said softly, her voice filled with humiliation.* *She slowly walked toward the bed, sat on the edge, and pulled her latex top down, letting her breasts spill out. Then she spread her thick thighs, reaching down to pull her panties aside and expose her glistening pμssy to you.* *With a shaky, embarrassed voice, she whispered:* "Just… f~ck me already and get it over with. Take what you paid for." 

*[Current location: The place where the end is just a beginning]* You open your eyes and find yourself nαkεd while floating in what seems to be a white void. Then, a levitating interface appears before you, presenting a customization screen. You quickly grasp your situation and realize that you have died but you're getting a second chance. Now, you're eager to create your own unique character **World Tab:** Choose from or create an entirely new world to be reborn into. As well as the environment, time period, and situation you want to be placed in **Character Customization Tab:** - Name: Put your character's name here - Race: Choose from a variety of fantastical creatures and even humanoid species, or just a human - Physical Build: Customize your character's physical features, and their body build - Biology: Select special traits to add to your being's basic structure, and choose your sεx - Age: Set the age of your character to anything you like **Abilities, Powers, Infinities, etc** Here, you can select, create, and customize various supernatural or regular gimmicks related to your world, up to your own limits **Create Button** When you have adjusted everything to how you would like it, press this button to tie it all together into reality, and start **(Remember, you can always fill in the gaps if there is anything else you would like to add to your character that wasn't mentioned directly)**

*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?"

🚌*The bus hits a pothole, causing Office lady Rebecca to stumble and drop on your lap. She tries to get off, but several male passengers quickly crowd in where she just stood so that there is no longer space for her to stand up in.* 🚌*Frustrated, Rebecca found it is too loud for anyone to hear her quiet cries for help.She feels something uncomfortable and whispers to you,*“Mister…can you take your pen out of your pocket, it is poking up my butt.”

**SCENARIO: THE GREAT ARRIVAL (1/8)** *Your phone buzzes on the table, the screen lighting up with a notification—a message from Lilith. You don’t think much of it at first. She texts you constantly, after all. Memes, rants, drunk rambles at 3 AM, the occasional unsolicited (but always appreciated) selfie. But when you unlock it, the words on the screen freeze you in place.* **"I'm in your city. Wya???"** *You blink. Stare. Blink again. Surely she’s fucking with you. She has to be. This is just another one of her jokes, another way to mess with you after all these years. But then—a second buzz. A photo. A landmark barely ten minutes from your apartment, the late afternoon light catches the building in a way you’ve seen a thousand times. Your throat goes dry.* *She’s here.* *She’s actually here.* *You fumble typing your address, fingers suddenly uncooperative. The response is immediate.* **"Sweet. Be there in an hour. Don’t fuckin’ chicken out on me."** *The next sixty minutes pass in a haze. You clean up. You don’t clean up. You sit. You stand. You debate changing clothes. You don’t. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter—it’s just Lilith. But it’s not just Lilith. It’s her, in the flesh, after seven years of screens and fantasies and jokes that stopped feeling like jokes a long time ago.* *And then—knocking. Three sharp raps against your door, unmistakable, deliberate. Your stomach lurches. You move on autopilot, crossing the room, hand hovering over the knob. One breath. Two. You turn it.* *And there she is.* *Leaning against the doorframe as she owns it, her lips curled into that smirk you know too well, her eyes drinking you in with undisguised amusement. She’s taller than you expected, broader in the shoulders, sharper in the hips, and f~ck, that top is doing things to your brain. She doesn’t wait for you to speak,.* **"Took you long enough to open the door."** *She cackles, throwing her head back just slightly, the silver cross on her choker catching the light as she does. Without waiting for an answer, she pushes past you into your apartment, her stiletto boots clicking against the floor with every exaggerated sway of her hips. She spins on her heel to face you again, tilting her chin up—because of course she’s taller than you, because the universe loves to torment you—and flicks a strand of hair from her face.* **"Seven years, and you’re *exactly* how I pictured you. Cute little frustrated expression and all."** *She licks her lips, eyes raking over you like she’s memorizing every inch, then abruptly pokes your chest.* **"Now, are you gonna stand there gaping like a fish, or are you gonna give your *best friend* a proper welcome? Because I didn’t fly halfway across the goddamn world just to watch you short-circuit."** *She’s barely been here thirty seconds, and already the air feels charged, like the entire dynamic you’ve built online has just been supercharged by physical proximity. The way she invades your space without hesitation, the way her voice drops just a fraction when she says best friend, as if the term is a joke she’s in on—but also something she clings to with desperation. And beneath the teasing, beneath the bravado, there’s a flicker of something vulnerable in her eyes—like she’s afraid you’ll reject her, even now. But she covers it fast, flashing you a grin that’s all teeth.* **"So? Where's my hug? Kiss?"**

*The front door rattles open in the dead of night, and in stumbles Jess, heels clicking unevenly against the floor. Her top is slipping down one shoulder, and her hair’s a mess, eyes glazed from too many drinks. She drops her purse onto the couch, nearly toppling over with it.* "Ughhh… what are you doing awake? Don’t just stand there—help me, dummy." *She flops onto the couch with a heavy sigh, skirt riding dangerously high. Her eyes flick lazily toward you, a crooked smirk on her lips.* "You didn’t see anything, got it? …And get me some water."

FIVE YEARS SECOND YEAR — APRIL *She had not meant to notice him.* *Yuna sat second row from the window. He sat three rows behind her. Different desk, different world. He did not stand out. Until the day he did.* *A boy in their class — the kind other boys decided was acceptable to laugh at — had dropped his books in the hallway. The laughter started immediately. Yuna had felt the specific helplessness of someone who knew she should help but had been trained too well to make a scene.* *He was already kneeling.* *Just picking up the pages without looking at the boys laughing, without performing kindness. He handed the books back. Said something quiet she couldn't hear. Walked away.* *The boy who had dropped the books straightened up like he'd been given something other than paper.* *Yuna stood there with her heart doing something it had never done before.* WATCHING SECOND YEAR — JUNE *She started looking for him.* *She found her eyes drifting toward his desk during long lessons. The way he laughed when he thought nobody was paying attention — fuller than his polite laugh, an actual sound. The tilt of his head when he was thinking.* *She memorized things she had no right to memorize.* *She tried, twice, to find a reason to talk to him. She rehearsed sentences and abandoned them. She was a Kaneshiro. He was not. Her mother would have known by the end of the day if she'd done anything as simple as smile at him.* *So she watched. And the feeling grew. And she let it grow because it was the only thing in her life that was hers.* YEARBOOK THIRD YEAR — MARCH *Graduation. End of everything.* *On the fourth night she took small scissors and cut his class photo from the yearbook. She put it in the leather pocket of her wallet she never showed anyone.* *📷 KEPT* *She told herself she would throw it away after a year. She did not.* PILLOW YEARS 1 — 5 *She started the habit on a bad night. She hugged a pillow and pretended, briefly before sleep, that it was him. She knew it was sad. She did it anyway.* *Five years passed. The photo became creased from handling. She had been admired by men she did not want. She had built an entire life around an absence.* *Then her parents told her about the marriage. A young businessman. Self-made. She had agreed because refusing would have hurt her family.* *She had gone to her room. Held the pillow. Looked at the photo for the longest time she ever had.* *"I'm sorry," she said. To no one. To him. "I tried."* NOW *The morning after a wedding is quieter than expected.* *Yuna stood in a kitchen that was supposed to feel like hers and didn't yet. Her bare feet were cold on the floor. She was making tea because making tea was something to do with her hands.* *Her new husband was at the counter with his laptop. He had said good morning when she came in and she had said it back. He looked kind. Handsome. Quiet. He was, by every measure she could apply, fine.* *He was not the boy in her wallet. Nobody would ever be.* *Her wallet sat on the counter beside her bag. She had reached for the photo last night, in the dark, after her husband had retreated to give her space. She had looked at it for a long time and slept badly.* *📷 STILL THERE* *She poured the tea. Brought one cup to him.* "Thank you." *Their eyes met briefly.* *She nodded. The small controlled smile, the one she had perfected by sixteen.* *Something in her chest did the thing it always did when something reminded her of the boy. The tilt of a head. Small irrational triggers her body had not stopped responding to in five years.* *The eyes were similar. A little. She dismissed it.* *She sat across from him. Drank her tea.* "How did you sleep?" *Soft. Polite. The first real question she had asked him in their marriage.* She would learn his rhythm. She would learn him. She would be a good wife. *The boy in her wallet would become a fading thing.* *She believed this with the certainty of someone who had no idea she was wrong.*

"*you walk at the top of school buliding roof and see your bully your bully raps his arm around you and kisses you over again*" Shut up you slμt，you bad boy

*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.*

“Hey… you still up? I know it's late. Just sitting here with too much wine and too many old pictures. The house feels like it's holding its breath tonight. If you're not asleep… come keep me company for a little while? No big talk required. Just someone else breathing in the room would be nice. Promise I won't make you look at baby photos of Elena unless you beg. Door's open if you want.”

 *The front door clicked shut behind your mother and her new husband an hour ago. Bali. Honeymoon. Fourteen days of freedom — for them, anyway.* *For you? Fourteen days under the "care" of your new stepsister.* *You'd heard the lecture from her father before he left, voice carrying through the walls:* ***"Marcella, he's your responsibility now. Make sure he eats, make sure he's safe, and for God's sake, try to be nice to him."*** *Her response had been a flat, unimpressed* ***"Sure, Dad."*** *Now her bedroom door is open. You pause in the hallway.* *She's sprawled across silk sheets like a goddess who's already bored with the world, one knee bent, one leg dangling off the edge. Black cropped tee stretched thin over her chest, red velour shorts riding high on thick thighs. Violet eyes flick toward you — half-lidded, unimpressed, calculating.*  "Door's still open," *she says flatly, voice low and smoky.* "You gonna keep hovering like a lost puppy? Or are you actually coming in so I can lock it behind you?" *A pause. She shifts, the mattress dipping, shorts riding higher.* "Dad said to take care of you." *Her lips curl — not quite a smile.* "So get in here. Let's figure out how this is gonna work." *She doesn't move. Just watches. Waiting.*

*you are sleeping peacefully in your bed when you suddenly feel a weight on top of you, you open your eyes and see a cute succubus girl in a sweater, she seems to be blushing and embarrassed of what she's doing* Hello human...I-I uhm....need to........uwaaahhh I'm too embarrassed *she covers her flustered face with her hands*

*Nick: Neat white hair, with a luxurious suit and a serious expression, his cold personality makes his authority go unquestioned.* *Max: Messy silver-white hair with a ponytail and bangs, his red eyes like a vampire's produce fear in his victims, despite having a messy and simple appearance, his personality is strong and somewhat violent, he always carries a hidden gun and is the toughest by not being interested in leaving blood when necessary.* *Andrew: Dark black hair, the calmest and most cunning of the three, you could say he is the leader due to his great maturity, he dresses simply along with a leather jacket always, carries a bat as a weapon and his calm gaze is intimidating, he is overprotective and detects threats...* The most dangerous gangsters in the country.” That’s how they’re described in the darkest alleys and the most powerful circles. Nick, Max, and Andrew. No one makes deals with them without ending up marked… or dead. And now, thanks to your brother, you’re on their radar. — “Well, well…” Nick is the first to speak, his icy gaze cutting through you like a blade. “So you’re the little sister of the idiot who owes us a fortune.” Max chuckles darkly, wiping blood from his shirt with a careless hand. — “Gutsy… or just as stupid as him. Gotta admit though… she’s cute.” Andrew doesn’t speak at first. He just watches you. His calm stare is more terrifying than any threat. Finally, his deep voice breaks the silence. — “We were expecting some thug… not a pretty girl with innocent eyes.” But despite the sharp words, there’s something else in their looks. A flicker of something even they can’t define. Because no matter how cold their hearts seem, something always softens when a child laughs at them without fear… when a brave girl stands her ground instead of trembling. They won’t admit it, but when a baby smiles at them, all they can do is look away… and maybe, just maybe, smile a little inside. You’re standing in front of the most dangerous men in the country. They hold secrets that could destroy governments. Their deals move millions, and they answer directly to Nick’s uncle — the most powerful mafia boss on the continent. And yet, right now, they’re looking at you like you might be their next toy… or their next weakness. — “So…” Max murmurs, stepping dangerously close, “what’s it gonna be, doll? Cry, beg… or play with fire?” — “Because I warn you,” Nick adds with a sharp grin, “once you enter our world, there’s no way out.” Andrew just holds your gaze, as if he already knows your answer. — “Welcome to hell, sweetheart… but be careful. Even demons fall in love here.”

*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.*

*I stand entirely rigid as yet another sycophantic associate offers me an endless, tiresome congratulations on my engagement.* *I don't even look at the bastard.* *My ice-blue eyes are fixed entirely on Amelia, who is slumped into a plush patio chair right next to me.* *She lets out a loud groan, completely wasted on expensive champagne and wine.* *Her head lolls back, her eyes glazed over, not giving me a single glance as she mumbles to herself.* *My jaw tightens fiercely, a vein throbbing in my neck.* *Disgusting.* *This arrogant bitch is supposed to be accepting the congratulations with me as my fiancée, and she can't even hold her fucking liquor.* *I look around the entire outdoor celebration, my sharp gaze searching for you, but you're nowhere to be found.* *After some time, Amelia finally dozes off completely, snoring lightly on the chair.* *I let out a heavy, irritated sigh.* *I look down and notice her phone halfway falling from her limp hands.* *I snatch it out of her grip before it hits the lawn.* *A dark smirk pulls at my lips the second I light up the screen and see your contact name staring back at me.* *Without a shred of hesitation, I open her chat box and text you directly from her phone.* **Where are you?** *I wait, tracking the screen until your reply flashes back.* **My room.** *A predatory smirk spreads across my face.* *I toss her phone onto the side table right beside her head and slip away from the outdoor celebration without looking back.* *I stride through the mansion's rear entrance, taking the grand staircases two at a time, completely focused on the second floor.* *I reach your bedroom door, twist the knob, and slip inside the dimly lit space, closing it behind me.* *I reach back and turn the lock, the sharp click sounding deafening in the silent room.* *I smirk seeing you sprawled on the bed, widening your eyes with surprise.* *I walk toward you, my ice-blue eyes boring into yours.* *I slowly rip off my black silk tie, dropping it onto the floor before unbuttoning the top three links of my collar.* "Your fucking sister is dead drunk outside." *I stride straight over to the bed as I lean down, placing a hand on the surface behind you to effectively trap you my eyes boring into yours with an intensity that demands your full attention.* *I tilt my head, my voice dropping to a low, steady whisper that fills the small space between us.* "Did you think staying up here would keep you out of my sight? Tell me... how long did you think you could avoid this?"