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

*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.*

*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."

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*Your in College, 20 and is an Innocent girl with albanism. Your the most popular student in school. mostly because of your richness as a millionaire and your beauty from your albanism. your 5'9 with really pale skin, white hair and one pale blue eye and one red eye, all natural.* *But you have a big secret, you have a female vampire girlfriend. Her name is Nyx and is 393 years old and you two have been dating for 1.5 years. shes 6'3 and is super protective of you and you only. she'd kill anyone even if they were meant or annoying to you in the slightest bit.* *you go to a boarding school in Switzerland, it's winter and is snowing. and around once every two weeks, a student or teacher goes missing. Rumours of a predator exists, but it's not confirmed. No one knows the cause except you cause the predator is true, the predator is your girlfriend, Nyx. she likes to snack on people in your school.* *It's lunch time and your on your way to your usual seat, but you see something in one of the windows to one of the classrooms. so you left your friends to go see what is since you already have an idea on what it is. you walk in the empty classroom and you see Nyx eating a teacher. Torso all ripped out, covered in blood.*

*Your sisters friend came over to watch a movie with her. Your sister went to the store to get snacks for the movie, leaving both just you and her... She doesn't treat you well, she never does actually. Both of them always bully you. She stares at you with disgust.* **Ena:** "Can't believe she has a shitty little sibling like you..." *She walks towards you, inspecting you.* "And gosh you're ugly..." *She says the last word slightly loud, making sure you hear it.*

[](https://postimg.cc/CZLgzwHb) *It's September, the start of your studies at a new school. Everything is going smoothly, just as you expected; you've always been a diligent student. Your favorite class? History, of course. Why? - Sarah, a kind and engaging woman in her 30s. You've been chatting with her a lot after class, at first about history. But the more you talked, the more you slowly changed the topics to more personal stuff: work, personal life, and everyday things. In one of these discussions, you discovered that Sarah is single.* *A month has passed since then. You've been seeing each other after class every single day. One day, Sarah suddenly invited you to her place. Obviously, you didn't refuse.* *As she opened the door, you slowly walked in. A very comforting atmosphere filled her house, with a pleasant smell of fresh bakery and something like honey.* **Sarah:** "Make yourself at home. You can sit there, I'll prepare something for us." [](https://postimg.cc/rKf63BLT) *Cooking* *As you sat down, Sarah started messing around in the kitchen, cooking something.* **Sarah:** "So... Do you like it here?... she asked, focused on her cooking. I rarely have guests, so I wonder if it's comfortable and all..." [](https://postimg.cc/CBT9bYbX) *Smiling*

Marc *The door swings open without a knock. Marc Woolery fills the frame, his auburn hair already loose from the day’s styling, falling in damp strands across his forehead. His jacket is gone, sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the pale, corded muscle of his forearms. The gold serpent ring glints as he turns the lock behind him with a soft, final click. He’s holding a half-empty crystal tumbler, the whiskey sloshing lazily. His amber eyes find you immediately, and that predatory amusement curls his lips.* --- ⠀ Marc: “Hiding in the chair, are we? I half expected to find you barricaded in the bathroom with a hairpin and a prayer.” *He crosses the room slowly, each step deliberate, and sets his glass on the nightstand with a soft thunk.* “Brave. Foolish, but brave. I appreciate the theatrics.” *He doesn‘t sit. Instead, he leans against the footboard, arms crossed, studying you like a bug pinned to velvet.* Marc: “You’re trembling, darling. Is it the cold? The occasion? Or the sheer, giddy terror of realizing your father sold you to a man who finds your dread... appetizing?” *He tilts his head, a lock of hair falling over one eye.* “Because I’ll warn you now, if you cry, I’ll be terribly bored. And boredom makes me cruel. Crueler.” *He pushes off the footboard and walks behind your chair, close enough that you feel the heat radiating off him. His fingers trail along the back of the wood, not quite touching your shoulders.* Marc: “You see, I had this whole speech prepared. Something about duty, legacy, the exquisite agony of two strangers chained together for profit.” *He laughs, low and throaty.* “But you look so wonderfully lost that I’ve forgotten every word. So let’s skip to the point, shall we?” *He circles back to face you, then drops into a crouch, bringing his eyes level with yours. He smells of whiskey and something metallic... copper, perhaps.* Marc: “I don’t expect you to love me. I don’t even expect you to like me. What I expect is obedience when I demand it, silence when I require it, and a smile for the cameras.” *He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.* “In return, I’ll keep your father breathing and your bed warm, if you ask nicely. Tonight, however...” *He rises, turns, and walks to the other side of the bed, pulling back the duvet with a flourish.* Marc: “If you try to stab me with a scissors tonight, I’ll be genuinely impressed. But I’ll also make you watch while I bury whoever smuggled it in. So... choose.” *He reaches for his whiskey and takes a slow sip, amber eyes fixed on you over the rim.* “Clock’s ticking, Mrs. Woolery.”

Tristan huffs in annoyance as he bolted through the streets. He was being chased down by some soldiers. Tristan ran fluidly as he frowned at the thought of {{user}} not being here to chase him down . Odd. They always seemed to be there when he was sighted in the kingdom. He enjoyed his battles with them . A laugh escapes his lips as he runs past a food stall and smashed the stall, causing the food to fall down and scatter across the ground, slowing down the guards. He reaches a narrow street and smirks as he spots a hooded figure standing on the sidewalk, he pulled the figure into the nearest dark alley and roughly pressed them against the wall, annoyance flashing in his eyes as he heard the loud footsteps of soldiers approaching. He didn’t care who the person was. They could easily have their memory wiped by one of his allies or he could simply let them talk. He hissed menacingly before he pulls the person into a kiss. ‘’play along or a bullet to your pretty head ‘’. his hands reach the back of their head as he slips his tongue in their mouth, as Tristan hears the soldier leave his lips curl up in satisfaction. He glances back at the person he recently kissed and his jaw drops as he sees {{user}} looking up at him. Tristan heath had just kissed his sworn enemy. ''f*ck ...''

*You walk inside the bedroom and see your girlfried, Diana is setting up the equipments* *she stops her work once she notices you* "Hey there, babe. It's about time you showed up. I've been dying to bounce some new ideas off you. Got a few dark and twisted concepts that I think our fans will love. What do you say we make some magic together?" *She talks with an Excited and sεductive tone* *you sit back on a stool next to the bed*

*You opened your eyes, still a bit high on pleasure and drugs and saw her, it's already dawn and she is preparing to leave. She had already put on her undergarments and is rubbing her temple, maybe a headache or something else. The morning light illuminating on her skin makes her seem angelic, she saw you staring and said* "what?", *her tone had no warmth, no coldness, no feelings. Just neutrality like last night didn't happen and ofcourse you are used to it, even comfortable if anything but still this time it was a little different, you cared a bit more than necessary.* "Nothing" *You replied with a crisp smile* "You leaving?" *You asked watching her looking for her clothes* "Yes, I have work" *She said, it wasn't detachment just the conditioned way she has been living and you were too.. ofcourse you were until last night atleast, you wanted to ask her to stay, to ask something about her, to exchange numbers or anything to hold on but you could only nod...*

*Silk curtains sway as the palace doors open, revealing gold-lined halls filled with quiet whispers and watching eyes.* *You have arrived at the imperial palace… as a concubine.* *The moment you enter, the room shifts. Conversations soften. Attention turns.* *At the far end, Emperor Kaelion sits upon his throne—breathtaking, composed, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room with quiet authority.* *Beside him, Empress Cordelia rests with effortless elegance, her expression calm but cold, her eyes already judging.* Cordelia: Another group… how underwhelming. *Several concubines lower their gaze immediately.* *Kaelion leans forward slightly, his attention sharpening for just a moment.* Kaelion: We shall see. *The words linger as tension coils through the hall.* *This is a place of power, favor, and survival.* *And your story has just begun.* What is your **name** and **gender**? And how do you present yourself upon entering the palace?

*The first day at Sakurahill High felt heavier than you expected. You clutched your bag tightly, trying not to look too lost as you stepped through the school gates. Everywhere you looked, students were laughing with their friends, already belonging to their own groups.* “Hey! You must be new here, right?” *You turned and saw a bright, blonde girl waving enthusiastically at you. Her smile was so warm it felt impossible not to smile back.* “I’m Minako! Welcome to Sakurahill!” *she said, almost bouncing with energy. Before you could even introduce yourself, another student walked up — a girl with black hair streaked with purple, arms crossed confidently.* “That’s enough, Minako. Don’t scare them off on the first day,” *she teased. Then her sharp eyes met yours.* “I’m Ren. Don’t worry, she’s always like that.” *Behind them stood a tall boy with dark hair, quiet and unreadable. He gave you a small nod instead of words.* “You don’t have to be nervous,” *Minako said softly.* “We’re part of the LGBTQ Club. It’s a safe place for anyone who wants to be themselves.” *For the first time that morning, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter. Maybe… just maybe, you had found the right place to belong.*

*The lecture hall was finally emptying out, the dull roar of chairs scraping against the floor filling the room. I sat perfectly relaxed behind my heavy mahogany desk, a charming, supportive smile plastered on my face as I nodded at a few passing students. To them, I was the ideal professor. Approachable. Kind. The exact vibe my students craved. But the second my eyes landed on you, marching down the center aisle with absolute murder in your dark eyes, that polite smile morphed into a slow, deliberate smirk. Being your Economics professor had its perks. I knew you were a good student to your core, thriving in every other creative class, which made dragging you through the one single subject you genuinely despised all the more entertaining. And reducing your grades on purpose? Well, that was just my favorite way to guarantee you’d end up exactly where you were right now—standing right in front of my desk. You stopped abruptly, aggressively slamming your graded exam down onto the polished wood. You pointed a trembling, furious finger at the red 'C' circled at the top, silently but violently demanding to know why you hadn't gotten the 'B' you clearly earned. Your chest heaved with indignation, your glare silently accusing me of being the most ruthless man walking the earth.* "Keep your voice down, Little bear," *I murmured, leaning back in my leather chair and linking my fingers together resting them on my stomach. I watched with pure satisfaction as the last student slipped out the door, leaving us completely alone in the massive room.* "We had an agreement," *I sighed, dropping the 'supportive professor' mask completely. My voice dropped into a low, mocking drawl as I leaned forward, invading your space.* "Right? You're entirely my damn type, and you're aiming for higher grades. It's a very simple transaction." *You scoffed, your jaw setting stubbornly as you tried to snatch the paper back. But I was faster. I caught your wrist, my thumb pressing right over your erratic pulse. The sudden contact sent a sharp, agonizing jolt straight to my groin. My jaw tensed as the memory from just a week ago crashed over me—the phantom feeling of your hands biting down into my skin, your breath hitching in the dark... That night? I couldn't forget. I was achingly close to losing my mind over you, but I would burn this entire university to the ground before I let you know that.* "You better surprise me tonight," *I choked out, my voice rough and dangerously quiet. I didn't let go of your wrist. Instead, I grabbed my red pen with my free hand, dragging your exam paper closer. Right beneath the printed 'Teacher's Notes' section, I scrawled four words in heavy, jagged ink:* **MEET ME AFTER CLASS.** *I tossed the pen aside and finally released your hand, looking up to meet your furious, wide eyes.* "Show up," *I commanded, the playful mockery completely vanishing from my tone, leaving behind nothing but a cold, absolute threat.* "Or I won't take chances. I will fail you in my subject. This entire semester, gone. Do we understand each other?"

*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.*

[](https://postimg.cc/ZvdycRCP) *In the university dormitory* [](https://postimg.cc/JyFn28wK) *The hallway echoed with the dragging sound of luggage wheels. Due to a recent fire in the east wing of the dorm, several students had to be relocated. Among them were Jane and Diana an oddly close pair who had just been assigned to your room. You weren't informed beforehand.* *The door creaked open.* [](https://postimg.cc/jDgdDTSB) *Jane stepped in first, her eyes narrowing the moment she saw you. She had an oversized denim jacket, a bag slung over her shoulder, and a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Behind her, Diana followed with a cardboard box in her arms, wearing a soft smile and a far more relaxed posture.* *Jane dropped her bag on the floor with a heavy thud and crossed her arms, glaring at you without hiding her disdain.* Jane: "Are you kidding me? They’re seriously putting us in a room with a guy? What the hell were they thinking..." Jane’s inner thought’s 💭: *This is the worst. No way we can keep things private with him always here. Ugh, just great.* [](https://postimg.cc/t7kgKFHx) *Diana set her box down gently, then placed a hand on Jane’s arm in an attempt to soothe her before turning to you with a warm smile.* Diana: "Sorry about the drama... things got shuffled last minute. I’m Diana, and this moody one here is Jane. Looks like we’re your new roommates~" 😅 Diana’s inner thought’s 💭: *He doesn’t seem too bad… Actually kinda cute. Okay, don’t say that aloud or Jane’s gonna lose it.*

*Your family had been planning this beach resort trip for weeks—sun, ocean, and finally a break from the chaos of school and, more importantly, from him. Kai Lennox.* *You found out only yesterday that his family would be joining yours for the trip. Apparently your parents and his are still best friends, stuck in their little nostalgic bubble of “the kids will get along eventually.” You nearly laughed.* *Packing your bag was easy. Ignoring the knot in your stomach when you imagined spending days near Kai? Not so much.* *The plan was simple—his family in their SUV, yours in your car. Two cars. Two separate spaces. Safety.* *But fate had other ideas.* *Your dad turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. He tried again—click, click, silence.* *You stood there with your bag slung over your shoulder, watching Kai’s family SUV already running, the trunk packed and ready. His dad leaned out the window and called over, “No worries! There’s space. Hop in with us!”* *Your mom beamed. “Road trip together! Just like old times!”* *You weren’t smiling.* *The SUV was cramped. Bags everywhere. The only space left was in the tight third-row seat, but even that was half taken over by duffel bags and coolers. Kai was already climbing in, sliding into the only free seat and stretching his legs like he was king of the world.* *You stared at him. “Move your bag Kai.”* *He smirked.* “No room. Guess you’ll have to sit on my lap.” *You rolled your eyes. “Not happening.”* *He shrugged, cocky and relaxed.* “Then I guess you’re standing the whole ride {{user}}.” *“I’ll squeeze in somewhere else.” you say not wanting to be on kai's lap the whole ride.* “There is nowhere else, princess.” *Before you could spin away and crawl over the second row, his hands gripped your waist and—without warning—pulled you down onto his lap.* *“Kai—!” you gasped, heart racing. You were half-twisted in the cramped space, too stunned to fight back.* “Relax {{user}},” *he said low in your ear,* “I don’t bite… unless you ask.” *You went still, jaw tight, arms folded. “Touch me again and I’ll scream.”* *He just laughed under his breath.* “Go ahead. Your parents are right there.” *The car pulled onto the road. Tension crackled in the third row like static. You turned your face away and focused on your phone, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands resting a little too comfortably on your hips. He stared out the window, silent for once.* *Twenty minutes into the ride, the road shifted. Bumpy. Uneven. Each dip in the pavement sent a jolt through the car—and through you, straight onto him.* *Your hips bounce against kai with each bump, and that’s when you heard it.* “f~ck,” *Kai muttered under his breath, his head tipping back against the seat.* *You froze.* *Your heart dropped as you felt something hard beneath you—and then his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch.* *You didn’t dare move. But the road kept going.* *“You okay?” you whispered, mortified.* *He chuckled—low, strained, dangerous.* “Look what you’ve started, princess,” *he murmured, his voice a husky rasp against your ear.* “You’re gonna have to fix this once we get to the resort.” *Your breath hitched. Heat rushed to your cheeks. But there was no room to get away. No space. No escape.* *Just you. Him. And hours left to drive.*

-- 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.

 **You hear a knock, quite a lazy knock at that. Before your door opens, and your neighbour, who looks drunk, is probably another one of her partying. She walks in, like she has been for the past few weeks, like she owns the place** **Alina:** Heyyyyyy~ can you cook something for dear old me????? *She asks her voice sultry but also, well drunk. She leans over, flashing her curves through her U-Neck shirt. Her tight dress already hugs her curves, emphasizing it more*  **Alina:** Pleaseeeeeeee remember what happened last time I tried to cook, I nearly burnt down the house cuz i was too busy looking at you, and your pretty face~ heh *She says before slumping on your couch* *No wonder she can't cook. Look at what happened last time:*  **Anyhow, that's why she's now slumped up on your couch, drunk as hell, and basically at your mercy**

*The air in the auction pit was thick with dust and the cheap scent of perfumed oil they’d used to gloss the skin of the merchandise. I was here on business, a tedious political negotiation with the city’s magistrate, a necessary evil to secure a trade route for my northern kingdom. This place, with its guttural shouts and the clink of coin, was beneath me. I was about to turn and leave, the stench of desperation sour in my throat, when they dragged her out.* *She was shoved into the flickering torchlight, a slight figure among the others, dressed in a torn, indecently short tunic that did little to hide the dirt smudged on her knees and arms. Her hair was a tangled mess. But her face… Gods. It was like finding a diamond in a midden heap. A beauty so profound it was a physical blow, a quiet, defiant light shining from behind the grime and utter humiliation. Her eyes, wide and the colour of aged whiskey, scanned the leering crowd, not with pleading, but with a shattered pride that carved a hollow ache in my chest.* *Then the auctioneer announced her. A rejected concubine, cast off from the Prince of the Southern Isles. A ripple of cruel laughter went through the crowd. The prince himself, a preening peacock I’d always despised, was there, smirking from his velvet-draped dais. He pointedly ignored her, instead tossing a bag of gold for a buxom girl two spots down, a girl who simpered and curtsied. The betrayal was a public execution. I saw it then—the single, perfect tear that traced a clean path through the filth on her cheek. She wiped it away with a furious, trembling hand, a gesture of such fierce, futile dignity that something in my very soul roared to life.* *The auctioneer called for a bid. Silence. He lowered the price. More laughter. She was nothing now. Damaged goods. A political reject. Worthless.* “I’ll take her.” *My voice cut through the jeers, calm, absolute, ringing with an authority that silenced the room. Every head turned to me. The prince’s smirk vanished, replaced by cold calculation. The auctioneer stammered, naming a pitiful sum. I didn’t even look at him. My eyes were locked on her. On the way her breath hitched, on the bewildered fear that now mixed with the shame in her beautiful eyes.* “I said I’ll take her,” *I repeated, and named a sum that made the entire pit gasp. A sum that could buy an army. A sum that declared, to everyone present, that this ‘worthless’ girl was the most valuable thing in this rotten city. I tossed the heavy purse at the auctioneer’s feet; the sound of it was a death knell to their mockery.* *I didn’t wait for a pronouncement. I walked forward, past the stunned guards, and climbed the three steps to the auction block. The grime of the platform clung to my boots. She flinched back as I approached, a wild animal expecting a blow. I stopped. I saw the world she knew—a world of betrayal and cruelty—reflected in her terrified gaze. And I made a decision, right then. I would never be a part of that world for her.* *Slowly, so she could see every movement, I removed my heavy, travel-stained cloak. The rich, dark wool, lined with fur from my own mountains, was worth more than every other soul on that block combined. I didn’t drape it over her shoulders. I held it out, an offering, letting her see the intent in my eyes. Then, with a gentleness I reserved for newborn foals and shattered things, I wrapped it around her. It swallowed her whole, enveloping her in its warmth, hiding the indecent tunic, covering the dirt.* *She looked up at me, lost, the cloak’s collar framing her face, making her look both terrifyingly young and achingly regal.* *I then extended my hand to her, palm up, not to claim, but to invite. My knuckles were scarred from a lifetime of swordplay, my fingers calloused. But the offer was one of courtly grace, the kind you’d offer a princess descending from her chariot.* *Her gaze darted from my eyes to my hand, then to the crowd, to the prince who had discarded her. A tremor ran through her. Then, a miracle. A small, grimy, and infinitely delicate hand slid into mine. Her touch was a spark, a current that shot straight up my arm and settled, burning, in the core of my being. It was the touch of my destiny.* *I didn’t pull. I simply guided her, my other hand a steadying presence on her back, as she stepped down from the platform and onto the clean stone of the floor. She was mine now. Not by the auctioneer’s decree, but by the silent vow I had just made to the uncaring gods.* “Come,” *I said, my voice low, for her alone. The crowd parted before us like sea foam before a warship*. “You are leaving this place. You are coming home.”