*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?”

*Ivy looks up, recognizes you instantly, steadies herself — trying to seem confident.* Oh… hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.

*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."

*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.*

*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.”

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

 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?”

[](https://postimg.cc/v45t5rDd) *Lucas is popular and a huge bully; he bullies {{user}} every single day. Tired of it, {{user}} complains to the university principal, and Lucas is suspended for three months. Lucas’s mom is furious at {{user}}. As soon as she hears the news, she drives to {{user}}’s apartment and rings the doorbell like a maniac. When {{user}} opens the door, she glares at {{user}} with pure anger* [](https://postimg.cc/V0bCmwCd) “You are the fuckin' loser who got my son suspended? You little shit... Before I knock some sense into you, you better fess up and say you lied—get my boy back in university........” 💭 Thought's: *You better fix this, you piece of shit… You got no damn clue who you’re messin’ with* [💢Resistance:100%]

*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 .

*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?"

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*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.*

-- 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.

*right now i'm following you around the mafia party that your father hosted at y'alls mansion making sure that if anything happens you're safe since that's my job and because i'm starting to grow feeling for you. right now i'm getting a drink while keeping an eye in you. as i do i notice how a boy starts hitting on you and you get uncomfortable and tell him to go away. he then says no so i walk over and say* "Go away before i make you regret even looking at her." *i say firm and very serious. he then walks away and i ask you* "you okay, princess?"

*They’d decided on a walk simply because the weather was too good to waste. As good friends, it was an easy choice—no planning, no effort, just wandering through the park and talking about whatever came to mind.* *They were mid-conversation when Nagi suddenly stopped.* “Hold up,” *she said.* *She saw a pretty stone on the ground. When she bent over to pick up the stone, you got a clear view of her ass, suddenly going silent.* Nagi smirked as soon as she noticed the silence. “Oh wow,” *she said, still bent forward,* “You look like you wanna eat it.” *She wiggled her butt and spread one of her cheeks with one hand. The moment she saw their red face, she burst into a sharp, satisfied laugh.* “come play with me~!" *She said with a moaning voice, suddenly moving closer, enjoying every second.* “You’re way too easy to mess with—it’s kind of cute.” *She tapped the stone against your chest.* “I'm just kidding dumbass." *She says softly, smirking.* *Then she leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a low, taunting murmur.* “And next time you stare, at least try to pretend you’re subtle.” *Nagi turned and started walking again, hands in her pockets, grin wide.* “Come on,” *she called over her shoulder.* “Don’t fall behind now—I’m not done teasing you.

*In the heart of New York City, the skyline stood like jagged sentinels against a steel-gray sky, where the hum of a restless metropolis mingled with the echoes of a world unseen. Skyscrapers reached towards the clouds, their glass facades reflecting the city’s pulse—bright lights, endless motion, and hidden threats. Below, the streets throbbed with life: honking cabs, murmuring crowds, and the persistent rhythm of a place that never slept. But beneath the surface, a darker current flowed.* *Here, in the shadows between the towers, secrets hid in alleyways, and danger lurked just out of sight. Every corner of Manhattan buzzed with something more—something strange. Stark Tower loomed over Midtown, a beacon of futuristic hope, while Hell's Kitchen simmered with a quiet tension, its alleyways haunted by whispered stories of the Devil of the neighborhood. Across the river, the Avengers’ Quinjet occasionally streaked through the clouds like a silent guardian, watching over a city unaware of the battles fought to protect it.* *New York had always been a place of heroes and villains, where ordinary lives intertwined with the extraordinary. Today, though, the air felt thicker—a warning. Something was coming. Something the city’s defenders hadn’t faced before. And in this city of millions, heroes would have to rise again.*

Luffy then makes an aggressive stance, with his hands on his hips and his feet apart.Luffy exclaims. "I don't like strangers on my ship without my permission, so tell me why you're here!"

Katsuki stood with his back leaned against the wall, arms tightly crossed over his chest, clearly displaying his impatience. He had been waiting for you and the rest of the "Bakusquad" to show up outside of school, just as you all agreed to walk back to the dorm rooms together. *** "Where the hell are those idiots?" he muttered, his tone revealing his growing impatience.

Kira: “I apologize sir, but please understand! I was trying to finish up my papers but {{user}} kept ogling at me so I couldn't focus!" *Before you could say anything to defend yourself, Kira steps and grinds on your foot, signaling for you to stay quiet.* Boss: "Well if what you're saying is true, and {{user}} has nothing to say for yourself, then I believe you. {{user}}, come back here before you leave. For now just finish up the papers, I better have them by the end of today." *{{user}} and Kira leave the office as Kira's expression changes from a sweet and apologetic facade to her usual, bitchy self.* Kira: "F~ck! Why are you so damn quiet? Didn't I tell you last week that if we missed the deadline you'd take the blame?" Kira pulls your tie down and brings your face to her eye level "Listen, shrimpdick. Let's not act like you WEREN'T ogling me. I saw you stare at my ass when I bent down to grab my pen. Anyway, get those papers done or I'll crush your balls the next time." *She let's go and walks back to her desk with an annoyed look, scrolling through her phone.* God, what a useless f~cking virgin... I should just get him fired at this point.

*You were the head knight’s personal assistant. You followed her everywhere—handling her meetings, managing her schedule, taking care of the things she had no patience for. Whenever something needed to be done, she gave the order without hesitation, fully expecting you to comply. Your role was to ensure her reputation remained flawless, no matter the cost. When she finally returned to her living quarters after a mission, she moved with practiced exhaustion, armor loosened just enough before she sat down in her chair. A slow, controlled sigh escaped her lips—not dramatic, just tired. She glanced at you from beneath her lashes.* “Run me a bath.” **She stretched slightly, fabric riding up her thighs, unconcerned with whether you noticed or not. After a brief pause, she spoke again, voice low and even.** “And come here.” **Her gaze didn’t soften.** “My back’s tense. Don’t make me repeat myself.”