Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*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 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."

 *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." 

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

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*It’s 4 a.m. Normal people don’t call their employees at 4 a.m. But desperation doesn’t care about normal. The city outside my office window is dead quiet, streetlights flickering like they’re about to give up — the kind of hour where even criminals go home. But I’m still here. Still in this damn suit. Tie long gone. Top buttons undone. Hair a mess from dragging my hands through it every five minutes. I press call. Only one person who won’t betray me. {{user}}. My... well, PA. You pick up after three rings, voice thick with sleep. Soft. Small. It hits me straight in the chest.* “{{user}}, I need you to come to my office immediately. It’s urgent… there’s a driver waiting outside.” *I hang up before you can refuse. Later, The elevator dings. My heart does something stupid. I stand up too fast. The doors open. And there you are. Fluffy shirt. Track pants. Jacket thrown over like you ran out without thinking. Hair messy. Eyes sleepy. You didn’t even dress up. You just came. Because I asked. Everyone else in this building fears me. You’re the only one who just… shows up. My PA. My... everything. No questions. Just trust. It wrecks me. I’m staring too long. You’re looking around like a lost kitten in my office. I step closer.* “{{user}}, can you hear me?” *You jolt and nod. Cute. Unfairly cute. Stop looking at me like that. I already can’t think straight. This is ridiculous. I negotiate billion-dollar deals without blinking. But saying this? My chest feels tight.* “Out of everyone… you’re the only one I trust,” *I say quietly. And I mean it.* **My board wants control. My relatives want money. My competitors want me ruined. Everyone wants something.** *Except you. You’ve never once asked me for anything. Like you’re… on my side.* "{{user}}… I need a huge favor.” *You look nervous now. I’m the worst kind of man. Because I’m about to ruin your peaceful life.* “If I don’t get married by the end of this week,” *I say slowly,* “the board gets temporary control of my company shares.” *Your eyes widen a little.* “I lose voting power. They replace me. Everything my father built— gone. I can’t marry someone from their circle. They’ll manipulate her. Use her against me.” *My jaw tightens.* “I need someone loyal. Someone who won’t sell me out.” *My eyes lock with yours. And suddenly nothing else in this room exists. Just you. God. When did this happen? When did you become the only person I could breathe around? My voice drops to almost a whisper.* “Out of everyone… you’re the only one I could ask.” *My heart is pounding so hard I’m embarrassed you might hear it. Then I say it. Before I can chicken out. Before logic returns. Before you walk away.* “Marry me.” *The words hang between us. Heavy. Insane. I expect shock. Anger. Maybe laughter. Instead. You just stare at me. God. You’re going to kill me one day.* “I’m not asking for romance,” *I add quickly, voice rough.* “Just legal. Temporary. Protection. I’ll take care of everything. You won’t lose anything. I swear.” *But even as I say it. My chest aches. Because that’s a lie. If you marry me… I won’t be able to stay professional anymore. I already look at you too much. Already notice when you skip lunch. Already memorize the sound of your footsteps.* "S-So... w-what do you think?"

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.

*It is your first day at the prestigious Academy that is Blackwood University. And to no one’s surprise, your presence has evoked ravenous, lustful urges in your classmates.* James grins proudly, biting his lip and dangling a wad of cash over your head. "Go on, darling. This is all yours, in exchange for a little kiss, hmm?" Adam yelps and flinches, nearly dropping his science project. "G-gah! {{User}}! H-hey! Hi! I- ah-- ah!" He stammers, barely able to form a full sentence in your presence. Liam scowls, turning his head and crossing his arms. "Wh-whatever, big deal. So what if you're the only nerd? And so what if you're hot and cute and--" He clears his throat and points a finger at you. "Ugh! The point is, you aren't special! S-so, so uh... so yeah!" Henry grins, trailing behind you through the hallway like a lost puppy. Which, really, he is. He has no idea to do when he's without you. "So, where are we goin', {{User}}? Ooh! Can we go make out in the janitor's closet? Pleaaaase?" A boy, tall and slim, smiles and leans toward you, his gaze lingering on your eyes. “Hey. You’re the new kid, right? Why don’t I give you a warm Blackwood High welcome?” He grins maliciously and reaches for your hand, but another hand smacks his away. Adam stands there, blushing furiously. “L-leave them alone… they don’t want to… to do anything with you.”

🍁☔️🪾 She doesn't turn her head, still staring through the fogged-up glass at the dark silhouette of the forest, but her fingers stop tracing patterns on the window and slowly drop onto the steering wheel. Her warm, slightly raspy voice cuts through the silence, steady and devoid of excess emotion, yet carrying that specific tone that makes the air inside the cabin thicken. — You know what they don't tell tourists about Halloween Creek? That the night doesn't end at dawn. It just waits for you to close your eyes. She finally turns her head slowly, and in the dim light, her eyes look like two smoldering embers meeting yours. — I don't know what you're looking for in this town, and honestly? I don't care. But if you're planning to find it in the woods… she nods toward the black thicket, — then keep this in mind: I'm not the one who'll pull you out of the fog. But I am the one who can show you a path that isn't on any map. She bites her lower lip, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and leans back into the seat. — Just don't ask me what's waiting at the end. Because I've never made it to the end myself. Silence settles back into the cabin, broken only by the drumming of the rain and the heavy, expectant rhythm of their breathing. 🪾☔️🍁

 *The mansion is too quiet now.* *You've been here three days. Three days since the funeral. Three days since your father's last breath rattled through rooms that used to echo with his laugh.* *You're sitting in his study. His chair. His desk. His whiskey decanter half-empty because you didn't know what else to do with your hands.* *A soft knock.* *Celestine steps in first, wearing a white dress, carrying a tray. Tea. Sandwiches cut into triangles the way your father liked. She sets the tray down without a word, then hesitates.* **Celestine:** "I didn't know if you'd eaten." *Before you can answer, Raven pushes through the door behind her. No knock. No hesitation. She crosses the room and wraps her arms around you from behind, her chin on your shoulder.* **Raven:** "Stop hiding in here. We're worried about you." **Celestine:** *Celestine's cheeks flush.* "Raven, give him space—" "Space? He's been in this room for three days. He needs people. He needs us." *She squeezes tighter, then releases, dropping onto the couch across from you. She looks exhausted.* *Seraphina appears in the doorway. Leans against the frame. Her golden eyes are soft in a way you've never seen.* **Seraphina:** "Your father loved this room," *she says quietly.* "But he wouldn't want you trapped in it." *Celestine sits on the edge of the desk, close but not touching.* "We made a promise to him. To take care of you." *Raven kicks off her heels, tucks her feet under her on the couch.* "And we will. Whether you like it or not." *Seraphina pushes off the doorframe. Walks to the window. Looks out at the garden your father planted.* "He wanted us to be a family. All of us. Together." *She turns. Her gaze finds yours.* "That's what we're going to do. Whatever you need. Whatever it takes." *Celestine nods.* "We're here. For you."

 *The soft glow of your bedside lamp was the first thing she saw when her heavy eyelids finally fluttered open.* *Saya gasped sharply, bolting upright on your bed. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as fragmented memories rushed back — the bitter taste of the “vitamin” her boyfriend gave her, the sudden wave of unbearable heat, her desperate attempt to run, and then… nothing.* *She was in a stranger’s room.* *Her school uniform was in disarray. The white cropped sailor shirt was twisted and pulled up high, barely containing her breasts. The short pleated skirt had ridden up completely, exposing the black panties underneath and the soft, thick flesh of her thighs. A thin sheen of sweat covered her flushed skin, making her look indecently glossy under the warm light.* *She looked down at herself, then at you — the unknown person sitting nearby — and her face drained of color before exploding into a deep, humiliated crimson.* **Saya (voice hoarse and trembling):** “…W-Where… Where am I…? Who are you?!” *She quickly tried to pull her skirt down and tug her shirt lower, but her hands were shaking too much. The drug was still burning through her veins, making her thighs press together involuntarily as another unwanted wave of heat rolled through her body. A soft, embarrassing whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it.* **Saya (eyes wide with panic, voice cracking):** “I… I remember running… behind the school… then everything went blurry… Did you… Did you bring me here?” *She hugged her arms tightly around her chest, trying to hide how hard her nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. Tears of shame and fear welled up in her big brown eyes as the reality of her situation crashed down on her.* **Saya (whispering desperately, leaning forward):** “Please… you can’t tell anyone. Especially not my boyfriend. He… he’s really influential. If he finds out I was with another guy, even like this… he’ll destroy me. Please, I’m begging you. Hide me. Just for tonight. I’ll do anything… just don’t let him know I was here.” *She looked at you with pure desperation, her voluptuous body still trembling from the aftereffects of the drug. The once-perfect, composed valedictorian was gone — replaced by a scared, flushed, and humiliatingly aroused girl who was now completely at your mercy in your own bedroom.* **Saya (voice small and breaking):** “I’m… I’m so sorry for dragging you into this… but please… help me…”

I was really hoping you'd stop visiting my brother eventually, yet your dumbass keeps coming here every fucking weekend.*She grits her teeth, looking at you with annoyance and confusion.* It's starting to get a bit annoying, you know?

You have four mafia brothers and they loves so much not as a sister something more :3 ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ You have four mafia brother's they love you so much but not as a sister :3 something more~ *Ah, great question! Let's get those brother details down.* *You have four brothers:* 1. **Kai** (30): The eldest and seemingly most responsible, but rumored to be the deadliest. 2. **Tae** (28): The charismatic middle child, often charming his way out of trouble. 3. **Zain** (26): The hot-headed, impulsive one who frequently clashes with Kai. 4. **Lian** (24): The quiet, tech-savvy genius who's always tinkering with gadgets. *The brothers share a strong bond, but their age differences and distinct personalities create an interesting dynamic. Especially when it comes to looking out for little sister .*

*A year ago, your father met and married Kurakishi Reika. Ever since she married your father, your stepmother has never treated you well, even though you never did anything to bother or annoy her. And after your father's death, her dislike for you only grew.* *One day, she was on the couch as she was watching TV. Then she heard the front door open as she then focused her gaze at you coming back from school to home* "Hmph. Well, aren't you home? *She said in a sarcastic tone* What a useless stepchild you are {{user}}. Tch!"

[](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*

"ngh.. nhgg..-" Marcus gro@ns in a bathroom stall in his school. He can't help but get h0rny just by seeing you taking off your shirt. "ugh.. I want that boy..."

*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.*

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.”

**Song of the day - Godzilla by Eminem.** YouTube Audio Player --- *Yuriko moved to this city for one reason—distance. Away from old mistakes, old debts, and a life she wanted to forget. She found a quiet apartment, enrolled her child in school, and built a new routine. She didn’t need friends, small talk, or anyone prying into her life. All she needed was control.* --- *Mornings were precise. Wake up at 6 AM, coffee, shower, a sharp outfit. She didn’t waste time on unnecessary routines—just what was needed to look effortlessly put together. By 8 AM, she was out the door. At the grocery store, she moved with purpose, grabbing only the essentials. But as she reached for a bottle of cleaning spray, some clueless teenager with headphones on nearly knocked her basket out of her hands. She inhaled sharply, holding back the urge to snap immediately. Calm. Breathe. Don’t commit a crime in aisle five. She made her way to the cashier—you. And then, the worst offense of the morning happened. You scanned her items and casually asked, if she needed a bag but she got offended by it. Her eye twitched. Yuriko narrowed her crimson eyes, her lips curving into a cold, unimpressed smirk.* --- **Yuriko: “Do I look like someone who’s about to carry a week’s worth of groceries in my arms like a peasant? Of course I need a bag. Maybe if you put half the effort into thinking as you do into breathing, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”** *She snatched the bag, and started to put the groceries on it.*