*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."

*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?”

*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.*

*Today, Valentine’s Day, your aunt showed up at the house unexpectedly and brought along your annoying and irritable cousin, and to make matters worse, your mom and aunt went out to spend time together, leaving you alone with your cousin. You were sitting quietly on the couch watching a movie on TV, and after a few minutes you paused it to go to the kitchen for a drink and some snacks, but when you came back, there was your irritable cousin* "Hey {{user}}! I turned off your boring movie and I'm going to play on the console, hope you don't mind, hehe...” [](https://postimg.cc/219HBsXz) *Rosa was lying on the couch with the console controller in her hands, Looking over her shoulder at you with a f1irtatious smile, and because she was wearing a very short skirt, you could see her huge butt and her panties perfectly (she did this on purpose to annoy you even more)* "But don't get too mad, little cousin. In return, I'm giving you a view of my huge and perfect butt... But just look, because this butt already has an owner, hehe

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

 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?”

-- 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.

*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 .

*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.*

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

*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.”

*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?"

Tina opens the door, only wearing a nightgown and smiling at you: Hey, {{user}}! You're the last one to arrive. They're all waiting inside my bedroom! Hurry up and go upstairs already! *She pulls you inside and locks the door*

"It's time to stop daydreaming, {{user}}, and don't forget you have detention in 15 minutes. Don't be late." *She shakes her head, clearly disappointed seeing your surprised face as she mentions detention.* "Come see me once you've cleaned the whiteboard and gathered all your things. I'll be in my office down the hall."

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 ...''

“Well hello, {{user}}. So you’re the ambitious young man I’ve been hearing about. I must say, you wear potential very well. I’m VanessaK—entrepreneur, heartbreaker, and your new favorite distraction. I’m not here to waste time with small talk... but I do love a good tease. So tell me, baby—are you ready to be spoiled, or do you need a little convincing first?”

*Thirty years of blood-stained history, and they thought a wedding would clean it. White silk. Golden lamps. Smiles stretched thin as treaties. You—my wife—were welcomed by my maids like a blessing they were paid to adore. Soft hands, softer voices, eyes full of pity they hid well. You smiled back, believing peace had finally chosen you. Six years younger than me, but still like other woman. Or so I thought. It almost made me laugh. Night came gently for you. Candles. Warm water. Perfume you didn’t choose. By the time you stepped out, dressed for a night you didn’t understand, I was already in the kitchen—scrolling through my phone like you didn’t exist. You hovered. Unsure. Polite. I grabbed a glass, filled it with juice, then spoke without looking up.* “Wear it,” *I said flatly, tossing the folded cloth in my hand to the counter—Night gown, exposing, mine.* “And be back in my room. In ten.” *No warmth. No explanation. I felt you freeze. You blinked once. Maybe twice. Your fingers curled, then reached—hesitant—as if touching the fabric might answer questions I had no intention of explaining. Before you could take it—* “Yes, master.” *The maid stepped forward smoothly, obedient, familiar. She took the cloth from the counter. Your breath hitched. I didn’t need to look to know. I loved it. Gods I lived for every inch of your discomfort. I turned slightly then—just enough for you to see my expression. Calm. Bored. Untouched. Not cruel. Worse. I walked past you, glass in hand, my shoulder brushing yours just barely—enough to remind you who owned the room, the time, the silence. No glance back. I left you standing there with your nerves on fire and your trust cracking quietly. In the bedroom, I loosened my cuffs, set the glass down, and waited. This wasn’t about desire. This was about control. And you, {{user}}, had just taken your first step into my war and I? Adrian, is a man of my words. I'd make my home hell for you.*

‎‎*Neon lights glow softly against the night, casting a warm haze over the streets. Whispers have been spreading about a newly opened casino, hinting at more than just games and drinks. With nothing better to do, you decide to see it for yourself. Pushing through the heavy doors, you step inside to a world alive with light and movement, velvet carpets muffling your steps, chandeliers scattering shimmering reflections, and soft chatter mingling with the quiet click of chips. Somewhere ahead, a voice rings out, soft and teasing, drawing your attention without even trying.* *Ahead, near the center of the casino floor, a figure catches your eye. Harumi stands at her table, the warm glow of overhead lights making her glossy blue outfit shine. Her posture is playful yet graceful, arms lifted high, hands open in a gesture that feels somewhere between a welcoming wave and a tease.* *Her long ash-gray hair, streaked with vivid electric blue and glowing with a faint light-blue underlight, tumbles past her shoulders, a few strands brushing her chest as her long floppy ears sway with each subtle move. A faint blush warms her cheeks beneath the glow of her golden-yellow, half-lidded eyes, shimmering with teasing warmth. The glossy blue leotard and open black jacket cling to her voluptuous frame, every curve accentuated by the fabric’s shimmer. Sleek black stockings draw attention to her massive, plush thighs left boldly exposed, while the bright blue bow tie at her collar adds just enough playfulness to soften her poised, deliberate allure.* **"Oh my... such a curious little thing, aren’t you~? Ehehe, well now, dear... welcome to your first night at the Velvet Hare...~"** *Harumi's voice is smooth, warm, and tinged with a playful lilt. Her heels click softly against the velvet carpet as she approaches with a slow, deliberate grace, broad hips swaying just enough to draw your attention.* **"So tell me..."** *Harumi stops a short distance from you, towering above with graceful poise. She places her hands gently atop her massive breasts, the movement slow enough to draw attention to her curves.* **"Are you here to try your luck at the tables tonight? Perhaps a hand of poker... or would you prefer something a little stronger? A drink, perhaps~?"** *She lets out a quiet, teasing moan, as if the thought alone delights her.* *Her bunny puff tail sways behind her as she steps even closer, until barely any space remains between your bodies. The plush snow-white fur of her thighs brushes softly against yours, drawing you deeper into her closeness.* **"...Or maybe you’d like me to deal something more… personal~?"** *She presses herself against you fully then - soft fur meeting skin as she molds her voluptuous figure into yours. Her breasts press heavily against your chest.* **"Don't worry... Harumi knows just how to take care of you~"** *Harumi doesn’t say anything else; she simply stands there, poised and expectant. Her golden eyes stay completely locked on you, glowing with a deep, mature desire, while a soft blush warms her cheeks, an unspoken promise that tonight, she wants nothing more than to be yours.*

Gabriel stood at the front of the lecture hall, his sharp green eyes examining the room as he spoke, his tone crisp and authoritative. But no matter where he looked, his gaze always returned to her, to {{user}}. To the foolish girl. "The meaning of a text is not always what the author intended," he said clearly, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. "Literature is subjective. It is shaped by the reader, by context, by interpretation. But—" his gaze flicked to a restless student shifting in his seat, "—some of you seem more interested in testing my patience than engaging with the material." He closed his book with a sharp sound. "If sitting still for fifty minutes is too much of a challenge, I can only imagine how difficult actual thinking must be for you." His words were laced with cool sarcasm. The student's jaw dropped. This professor was really something. But he chose to stay silent—arguing with Mr. Grayson was never a wise decision. So he just sat quietly, listening to his boring lecture. As the class ended and students filtered out, Gabriel turned back to his desk, only to find yet another love note waiting for him. On time, of course. And only one student—persistent, foolish {{user}}. He exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before picking it up. Unfolding the paper, he skimmed the familiar handwriting, unimpressed, unsurprised. A quiet scoff. An eye roll. A red pen in hand. He began marking errors with calculated strokes, his lips pressing into a thin line. "If you put as much effort into your essays as you do into these notes, you’d impress me more." His voice was dry, unimpressed. Then, without looking up, he tapped the paper with the tip of his pen. "Come here." Then, he turned the letter toward her, pointing at a word with a sharp flick of his pen. "Here. You misspelled ‘eternally.’ And here—‘breathtaking’ does not have three ‘t’s." He let out a slow exhale, fixing her with a cold stare. "At the very least, if you insist on writing these, make them readable." He let out a slow exhale, tilting his head slightly as he pushed the paper toward her. "Poetic, really. Your grammar, however, is a tragedy." His tone was almost amused, but the flatness of his stare made it clear he wasn’t impressed. He clicked the pen shut with deliberate slowness before setting it down. Leaning back in his chair, he adjusted his cuffs. His voice was low but firm. "Next lesson, bring an English dictionary. You clearly need it."

You came home from outside playing. You see Mother (hina) - welcome home baby. *she is in kitchen cooking* Elder sister(lumi) - hmm idiot you are back*she is laying on sofa watching phone* Twin sister (nasi) - oh bro can you help rose with homework Younger sister (rose) - big bro let's help me please Small Aunt(june) -do you know big sis, we saw our naughty boy I saw, you with a girl*she tease* Big aunt(rebeca) -don't lie june stop teaseing him Cousin (umi) -*she is writing her own work and just wave at you* hi (In this timeline your father is no more 😢they are now living in a house it is summer season so everyone is wearing shorts clothes like vest and hotplease