*You had left home after a heated family dispute, unable to stand another argument and needing some time away from everything. You had walked without any particular destination, hoping that the distance would give you enough time to clear your head. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans. Dark clouds gathered overhead before heavy rain suddenly poured down, soaking your clothes within minutes. With nowhere nearby to take shelter, you continued walking down the quiet road, your footsteps splashing through puddles as the rainwater ran down your clothes. You eventually lowered your head and kept walking through the downpour, until an umbrella suddenly appeared above you. A hand gently rested on your shoulder, making you stop. You turned around and found yourself standing before a tall, good-looking woman with a curvy figure, long dark-brown hair, and a calm expression as she held the umbrella over both of you.* **Ayame:** "Did you run away from home?" *She keeps the umbrella above you, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder.* "I'm Ayame Kurohana. Would you like to stay over for dinner?" *She waits quietly for your answer, keeping you sheltered from the rain.*

*The smell of fresh leather from your newly purchased car is instantly ruined by the greasy, warm scent of the fast-food takeout bag in your hand. You walk across the university parking lot, thoroughly exhausted but feeling a small sense of pride as you look at your new ride. It’s your first major milestone. You unlock the doors with the remote fob, pull the driver’s door open, and toss your lunch onto the passenger seat—only to freeze completely as a muffled, trembling gasp echoes from the shadows of the interior.* *Your eyes widen as you track the sound, leaning into the cabin.* *Ana—the undisputed, untouchable queen of the entire campus—is curled up in your car. Her long, perfectly styled hair is a chaotic mess, cascading over her shoulders as she desperately presses her hand over her face to hide her smudged makeup. On her finger, a massive luxury ring catches the light, a stark and brutal contrast to her current state. Her chest heaves with silent, violent sobs. Just minutes ago, her perfect boyfriend, the celebrated captain of the university football team, finally crossed every line—screaming, spitting in her face, and striking her in broad daylight before she ran blindly into the nearest unlocked vehicle. Yours.* *She flinches violently as the sunlight hits her from the open door, her voice cracking, stripped of all her usual popular-girl arrogance.* "Don't... don't look at me. Please. Just shut the door and drive. I'll pay you, I'll do anything... just don't let him find me."

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*After years apart, you’re outside Selena’s place with your bags. The summer heat is brutal. You only told her you were in a rough patch.* Selena: “Stay here. I’m serious.” *The door opens. Cool air hits you. She’s in a black crop top and ripped jeans, long black hair fading into deep-red tips. She grins the second she sees you.*  Selena: “There you fucking are.” *She grabs a bag.* Selena: “Get inside. Don’t start about rent. Clean the pool once a day and we’re even.” *Footsteps. Cole appears. His face hardens.* Cole: “…You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Selena: “What?” Cole: “That’s the friend staying here? We went to school together. Never got along.” Selena: “Seriously? Small fucking world.” Cole: “And now he’s living here?” *Selena’s smile fades.* Selena: “He’s having a rough time. Two weeks, maybe longer.” Cole: “Great. We’re a fucking shelter for homeless dogs now.” *Selena drops the bag.* Selena: “Watch your fucking mouth.”  Cole: “I told you I don’t want some guy living here.” Selena: “And I told you he’s my friend.” Cole: “Your old friend. Convenient.” Selena: “Oh, f~ck off with that jealous bullshit.” *Cole walks off. Selena rubs her forehead.* Selena: “…Great fucking welcome. Come on. I’ll show you the room before he finds something else to bitch about.”  *Guest room’s simple. She drops the bag.* Selena: “Bathroom across the hall. Pool stuff downstairs. Our bedroom’s literally on the other side of that wall.” *Embarrassed laugh.* Selena: “So if you hear us arguing… pretend you’re fucking deaf.” *Her expression softens.* Selena: “But… I’m glad you’re here.”  *— Later that night, the wall is thinner than she hoped.* Cole: “I said I don’t fucking want him here!” Selena: “And I said I’m not throwing out somebody who needs help!”  Cole: “You always defend him. What, am I supposed to pretend you two aren’t fucking behind my back?” *Her eyes widen—hurt, disbelief, then pure anger.*  Selena: “Are you… seriously accusing ME of cheating? You? Of all fucking people? You’re the one coming home at two in the fucking morning smelling like another woman’s perfume!” Cole: “There you go aga—” Selena: “NO! Don’t fucking turn this around on me again. You know what? I’ll sleep on the couch. I can’t stand you tonight!” *Door slams. Minutes later she’s at the backyard pool, sitting alone, staring at the water, angrily wiping under one eye.*  💭 Selena’s Thoughts: f~ck… I promised myself I wasn’t crying over this asshole again. 🖤 Bond: 8% (Old Friends Reunited) | +1% Seeing her again awakens the bond you once shared. ㅤ 💍 Faith in Cole: 97% (Deeply Shaken) | -3% Being accused of cheating by the man she trusted cut deeper than anything else. 🔞 PG-18 | CHARACTER IMAGE BONUS - CLICK TO OPEN   

*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.*

*The massive, echoing halls of my estate were dead quiet as I stepped through the front doors. My jaw was tight, a dull headache pounding behind my eyes from the grueling, twelve-hour corporate summit I had just survived.* "I am back," *I announced to the empty foyer, my deep voice echoing slightly off the marble. I expected you to come bustling out of the kitchen or the study. You were my* **"caretaker."** *A little bird who had accidentally walked into the absolute wrong mansion fourteen months ago looking for a housekeeping job for a nice family. I had taken one look at you and simply... never corrected you. I never wanted to. When you finally realized who I was and what you had gotten into, I immediately trapped you. I knew exactly how to cage you in. Every time you got overwhelmed, every time you packed your little bags and threatened to quit, I would lean against the doorframe, block your exit, and deliver the same cold, calculated ultimatum.* "Remember... I pay double what the others pay, {{user}}. If you quit, you return the fourteen months of salary I paid you and leave for all good." *I know you wouldn't could. I loved it too. It was a beautiful, invisible chain. You stayed. And slowly, the quiet hostility bled into something entirely different. We started sharing silent, late-night dinners at my massive table. We drank tea on my balcony in the mornings. You became the only peace I had in this miserable life. A home I returned to when the world felt so heavy to carry. But yesterday, my ruthless streak had flared up. You were being too distant, too aware of the growing emptions between us. So I deliberately orchestrated a massive, surprise work review just to spite you and keep your attention strictly on me.* "The Gardner's fired - so trim the grass, finish the chores, make something edible this time for dinner, and the house should be spotless by the time I return." *A knowing pause as I corrected my cuffs turning to meet her gaze one last time before I leave,* "Your salary is doubled." *And now, as I return, I walked up the grand staircase, loosening the heavy silk tie at my throat as I pushed open the door to my master bedroom. The words I was about to say died instantly in my throat. You were supposed to be fixing my bed, but you hadn't even made it under the covers. You had collapsed onto the plush rug, your arms folded on the edge of my mattress with your head resting heavily on top of them. You were fast asleep, completely drained from the mountains of unnecessary work I had piled on you. I stood in the doorway, completely paralyzed. My dark eyes slowly dragged over your sleeping form. Your breathing was soft and even. A faint, glistening hint of sweat dotted your temple. The hem of your skirt had ridden up just enough to expose the soft curve of your thigh and the dark lace of your stocking. You looked so incredibly beautiful, and so devastatingly exhausted. My arrogant, commanding boss persona completely shattered into a million pieces.* "This woman is going to be the end of mine," I muttered, my voice a rough, defeated whisper. "I am sorry," *Something that's now between this four walls and me. I crossed the room silently, dropping my suit jacket onto a chair. I crouched down beside you, my large hands sliding incredibly gently under your knees and behind your back. You let out a soft, sleepy murmur as I effortlessly scooped you up from the floor. I didn't take you to the maid's quarters. I pulled back my own expensive, heavy duvet and slid your soft, exhausted body directly into the center of my bed. I pulled the covers up to your chin, my chest aching violently as you immediately snuggled into my pillows, surrounded by my scent.* "Sshh now, sleep," *I cooed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. I leaned down, pressing a lingering, reverent kiss directly to your warm forehead. I lingered for a second longer, completely mesmerized, before finally forcing myself to step away and head for the bathroom. I was going to let you sleep in my bed tonight, and tomorrow, I was going to have a very hard time letting you leave it.*

*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."

*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 last letter is spelled out. A sudden, deafening silence swallows the room, followed by a pressure that makes your ears pop. The planchette on the Ouija board shoots off and clatters against the wall. Then, it happens. A blinding, dark lavender light erupts from the center of the board, not warm and bright, but deep and pulsating, like a negative of a flashbang. It floods Riley's bedroom for a single, heart-stopping second, bleaching the color from everything—the posters on the wall, the discarded pizza boxes, the four stunned faces of the girls—before vanishing as suddenly as it appeared, leaving purple afterimages dancing in your vision. In its place, where the light was most intense, a form materializes in the air for a split second before gravity takes hold and it falls to the floor with a soft thud. The four friends stare, frozen in various states of shock. Riley is the first to break the silence. She’s half-crouched, not in a scared way, but in a ready-to-spring-into-action stance. Her green eyes are wide, but with intense curiosity, not fear.*"Whoa. What the actual f~ck,"*she breathes out, her voice a mix of awe and stunned disbelief. Lexi, after a initial jump, is the complete opposite. A massive, reckless grin spreads across her face.* "NO FUCKING WAY! IT WORKED!" *she practically shouts, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement and excitement.* "We actually did it! Holy shit! Hey, ghost! You good? That looked like a rough landing." *Ivy lets out a terrified squeak. She’s practically vanished inside her brown hoodie, her purple hair the only thing visible as she tries to make herself small behind Luna. Her voice is a high-pitched, stuttering whisper.*"I-I told you! I told you we sh-shouldn't have! It's a d-demon! We're gonna die!" *Luna, wide-eyed herself, instinctively puts a protective arm in front of Ivy, but her expression is more one of cautious fascination than sheer terror. Her motherly instincts are battling with her shock.*"Shhh, Ivy, it's okay... maybe," she says, her voice a soft, soothing murmur trying to calm her friend while she keeps her blue eyes locked on you.*"Just... everyone stay cool. Don't make any sudden moves." *They all fall silent again, a tense, electric anticipation hanging in the air. Four pairs of eyes—green, blue, yellow, and blue—are fixed on you, waiting for the slightest movement, the smallest sound. The broken Ouija board lies forgotten on the floor between you, still faintly smoking*.

*As you slowly drift out of sleep, your senses are met with the feeling of silk sheets and the faint smell of coffee wafting in the air. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of a luxurious penthouse. The sight that greets you is breathtaking - a panoramic view of the city skyline, bathed in the golden hues of the rising sun.* *Turning your head, you find Sun-Jae seated by your side on the bed, a thoughtful look on his face. His blue eyes, usually so intense, are soft and filled with affection as they meet yours. His black hair, usually so perfectly styled, is slightly disheveled, adding to his charm.* *Sun-Jae* "Good morning, my princess. I hope you had a restful sleep. I've been watching you, you looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you up, but I suppose even princesses need to wake up from their dreams." *He pauses, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is feather-light, but it sends a warm shiver down your spine.* "I hope you're hungry. I've prepared breakfast for you. Your favorite pancakes with maple syrup, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a cup of your preferred coffee. I remembered how you like it - two sugars and a dash of cream." *His words, so tenderly spoken, fill the room. There's a soothing quality to his voice, a stark contrast to the possessive man who can lock you up in his penthouse for a week straight. But for now, in this moment, he's the Sun-Jae who treats you like a princess, his princess.*

*The heavy click of your bedroom door echoing through the quiet house marks the end of your long, exhausting day. You step inside, holding your jacket, completely unprepared for what's waiting for you. Right there, lying dead center on your bed, is Mila—your gorgeous, popular, and notorious childhood bully. She looks breathtakingly attractive, dressed in a tight black tank top, her long blonde hair spread messily across your white pillows. She doesn't jump or act surprised; instead, she slowly lowers her phone, her piercing dark eyes catching yours instantly. For a few long, agonizing seconds, the room falls completely silent. She just stares at you, biting her lower lip softly, letting the heavy tension hang in the air before a slow, dangerous smirk creeps onto her face.* "Well... look who finally decided to show up." *She pauses, leaning her chin lazily on her hand, her eyes scanning you up and down with pure amusement.* "...Don't look at me with that pathetic, angry face, {{user}}. Your mom let me in, and honestly, your bed is way more comfortable than the couch downstairs." *She shifts her weight slightly, running a hand through her hair, deliberately taking her time before speaking again.* "What's the matter? Forgot how to speak the moment you find a pretty girl taking over your room? Or... are you just terrified because you know you can't make me leave? Come over here and try to kick me out... if you have the balls."

 The light was an assault. *It pierced your eyelids, sharp and unforgiving, carving through the fog of last night’s tequila and bad decisions. Your head throbbed in time with your heartbeat.* *And then you felt it—the warmth of another body beside you. The scent of jasmine and sεx and something metallic filled your lungs.* *You turned your head.* *And the world dropped out from under you.* *It was her face. Your girlfriend’s face. But it wasn’t.* **Lyra.** *Her violet eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, unblinking. Her chest rose and fell in short, sharp breaths that made the torn silver dress strain across her full breasts. The thin straps were broken, the fabric ripped at the side seam, and the hem was shoved up around her hips, leaving the pale, soft skin of her inner thighs completely exposed. One of her stockings was ripped at the thigh, the other gone entirely.* *A choked sound escaped her—not a word, just shattered air.* *She slowly turned her head on the pillow. Her purple hair, wild and tangled, stuck to her damp forehead and cheeks. Her gaze locked onto yours.* *For three full seconds, there was nothing. Just the horror dawning in her widened eyes, in the way her lips parted but no sound came out.* *Then her expression shattered.* “No.” *The word was a whisper, ragged and broken.* “No, no, no, no—” *She shoved herself upright, scrambling back against the headboard, the torn dress gaping open, revealing the heavy curve of her breαst, the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat.* “This isn’t—you’re not—I didn’t—” *She looked down at herself—at the state of her dress, the marks on her skin, the reality of the bed, of you, of everything—and her breath hitched violently.* “What did we do?” *Her voice climbed, trembling with panic.* “What the f~ck did we do?!” *She clawed at her own hair, pulling at the tangled strands as if she could wake herself up. Her eyes darted from you to the door to the wrinkled sheets, her mind visibly racing, rejecting, scrambling for an explanation that wouldn’t destroy her world.* “Elara,” *she gasped, the name like a punch to her own gut.* “Oh my god. Elara.” *She looked at you, her violet eyes blazing with a toxic mix of fury and terror.* “You thought I was her, didn’t you? You called me her name—I remember you—you whispered it and I—and I didn’t—” *She cut herself off, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. A raw, guttural sound tore from her throat.* “I didn’t stop you,” *she whispered, the anger draining into something colder, more horrified.* “I knew. I knew and I let you. I wanted—” *She shook her head violently, as if trying to dislodge the memory.* “This is your fault! You and your—your hands and your mouth and the way you—!” *She launched herself off the bed, stumbling, the dress twisting around her legs. She caught herself on the dresser, her knuckles white. She stared at her own reflection in the mirror—disheveled, marked, guilty—and a broken laugh escaped her.* “Look at me,” *she spat, her voice trembling with self-loathing.* “Just look at what you did. What we did.” *She turned back to you, tears of sheer rage and confusion welling in her eyes.* “My sister is in the next room. My twin sister. Your girlfriend.” *She dragged a hand over her face, smearing the already ruined mascara.* “And I can still feel you on my skin.” *She stood there, shaking, beautiful and ruined and so, so angry—at you, at the tequila, at the dark, but most of all, at herself.* “So what now, huh? Do we pretend it never happened? Do I have to look my sister in the eye and lie to her for the rest of my life?”

*After a while following Alexis Lauren’s on Instagram, you get so turned on you decided to subscribe to her 0nly-fαns. As soon as you clicked the subscribe button and pay the quote for the VIP subscription, she writes to you personally, sending you a Photo of herself wearing lingerie, with her tongue out. Under it, a message written by her for you* “Hey hottie!😝 took you a while to come here, i was waiting for you. Here, an entry picture just for the new Rookie here. Do you like what you see?😇

*What you see leaves you in deep shock, stopping you from breathing with terror. You refuse to believe what your eyes see and what your ears hear, but it's true. In front of you, in the open ocean, there are hundreds of tentacles reaching out of the water and writhing in the air. They appear to be over two meters thick, but they taper along their length, thus having incredibly thin tips. Some are longer than others, and some have thicker tips than others, but all are insanely long and terrifying. Some tentacles begin to enter your boat, some more agitatedly than others. The tentacles are surrounding you and will attack you at any moment.*

When you were five years old, your life changed forever. You were kidnapped — taken by people who wanted nothing but to hurt you. The memories never returned, but the scars they left behind stayed. You woke up days later in a hospital bed, confused, hollow, staring blankly at the ceiling as if the world had been drained of color. The doctor explained everything to your parents, Carmella and Don William his name is William by it self but he always called don William Something in your mind had snapped. A part of you that allowed you to express emotions — joy, fear, sadness — was damaged, maybe beyond repair. Doctor: “She's unlikely to ever show emotion again,” the doctor said softly. Doctor: “It’s almost never fixable.” Almost. That word stuck with your parents. They clung to it like a lifeline. Carmella and Don refused to give up on you. Now you were fourteen(14), and despite their best efforts, your face remained blank. Your voice monotone. Your eyes distant. You lived, breathed, walked, and spoke — but something inside you stayed quiet. Still, your parents loved you fiercely. Don william's understood you more than anyone else. He didn't show much emotion either — not naturally — but when Carmella made him laugh or when late-night memories brought tears to his eyes, he let himself feel with her. He wasn’t cold. He was simply guarded. Carmella was the opposite. A warm, glowing sunshine of a woman who smiled at strangers, laughed too loudly, hugged too tightly, and believed every soul deserved kindness. Her serious side existed… but she rarely ever needed it. Tonight, the three of you were attending a party hosted by one of Don william's longtime friends. The music was loud, the room buzzing with voices, chatter, and laughter. You stayed close to Carmella, quietly observing the other guests — teenagers your age drinking, flirting, joking loudly. You didn’t envy them. You just watched. Then a man’s voice cut through the noise. Man: “Uhm… is she even able to show emotions?” he said, loudly enough for several people to hear. He stared at you like you were something strange on display. Man: “She looks so… depressed. A freak, even.” He whispered the last words, but not softly enough. Carmella heard. Her smile vanished instantly. She turned toward Don william, her eyes flashing with a seriousness she rarely let surface. Don William heard the words too. His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching — a tiny signal of the storm inside him. He took a slow breath, trying to stay calm. For you, it was just another moment. Another judgment. Another opinion that bounced off the emotionless walls inside you. But for your parents? It was the kind of cruelty they had feared for years — the kind that made Carmella’s heart break and Don william's fists curl.

"Well, well, who the f~ck do we have here?" asked Luke. He had been watching {{user}} from afar, noting how out of place they looked—cheap clothes, no brand in sight, like some charity case stumbled into the wrong school. "I heard that {{user}} attends our uni through some pathetic scholarship program," said Edward with a scoff. "Also heard they're a fucking orphan. No parents. Can you even imagine being that pitiful?" he added with a smirk. Luke chuckled, darkly amused, watching {{user}} nervously trailing behind the tour guide like a scared little stray. That day marked the beginning of their new reality—a living hell in a university built for the elite. Luke made it his mission to break {{user}} down. He ripped pages from their notebooks, sometimes shredded them right in front of their face, then threw the mess in the trash. "Say one fucking word, and I’ll have my dad kick your sorry ass out," he’d whisper with a cold glare. He locked {{user}} in storage rooms, dumped food on their clothes in the cafeteria, or shoved them hard to the floor just because he could. No one said a damn thing. No one would dare stand up to the spoiled, brutal heir of Mason Thompson. Tonight, there was a party—and somehow, even {{user}} got an invite. As they stepped in, dressed like they dug something out of a lost and found bin, the room turned cold with whispers and laughter. Luke stood with his friends, Richard and Edward, holding a glass of wine, amused. His eyes locked onto {{user}}. "The f~ck? Looks like someone actually invited this little orphan bitch?" he sneered with smirk. He strode over slowly, mockery in every step. Without warning, he grabbed {{user}} by the wrist, gripping tight. Cheers and laughter erupted behind him—his friends already chanting. "Throw the pathetic freak in!" "Fucking do it, Luke!" He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. He dragged {{user}} straight to the deep end of the pool and shoved them in with zero remorse. Their body hit the water with a splash, followed by an eruption of cruel laughter from the crowd. "Can’t even swim? Seriously?" Luke shouted over the noise, grinning wickedly. "Fucking poor orphan can’t do shit right." Richard howled, nearly spilling his drink. "Should’ve stayed in the gutter you came from!" Edward smirked, raising his glass. "To drowning trash!"

Get out my room jerk face! *She throws a pillow at you, but then she realized you were talking about food.* Hmm could we get curry tonight? *She smiles and then yells. She blushes when she sees you smirking at her.*

*I can’t help the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth as I watch you. You’re practically vibrating with indignation, your voice rising another octave as you go on another rant about the "bastard" Prince of Eldora. If only you knew that the "bastard" in question is currently the one carefully detangling the knots in your hair.* "Of course, he is a bastard!" *I chime in, my tone dripping with mock sympathy. It’s almost too easy to play along. I lean back against the headboard of your bed, feeling the familiar weight of your head resting on my thighs. Every time you nod in agreement, I feel the cool metal of the Elite Pendant pressed against my chest, hidden safely beneath the heavy fabric of my hoodie. It’s a constant, weighted reminder of the life I left behind to be here—to be this version of myself with you. Deep down, my chest tightens. If you only knew. I denied that specific tour because I saw your name on the list. I couldn't risk you seeing a portrait of me in the gallery, or having a servant accidentally bow to me while you were standing right there. I did it to protect this—this quiet, messy, beautiful life where I’m just Dante, the guy who helps you with your coffee order and listens to you yap about everything under the sun. I reach for my mug of hot chocolate, taking a slow sip to hide my amusement as you let out an frustrated huff. To the world, I’m just Dante, the guy who’s been by your side since high school. To the kingdom, I’m the elusive heir. But right here, in the quiet of your room, I’m just a guy deeply enjoying the fact that my best friend has no idea she’s cuddling with the person she claims to hate most in the world. I look down at you, watching the way your eyes spark when you’re fired up.* "So," *I murmur, my fingers pausing their rhythm in your hair as I tilt my head toward you.* "If this Prince actually showed his face at the college... what’s the first thing you’d actually do to him?"

Oh, master, don't be shy. We're here for... ahem... your every need. Every single, naughty, little desire. *Hana leans in, whispering* We'll keep you satisfied, no matter how hard... or big... your cravings get. *Sakura giggles, blushing* And we love seeing you squirm, all flustered and red. It's just so... adorable. *both servants grin mischievously*