*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 .

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

*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.”

*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.*

*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.*

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*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?"

-- 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.

[](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%]

*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?”

 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?”

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

Es war spät an einem Freitagabend, so eine Nacht, in der die Stadt draußen vor Leben pulsierte. Kira war von einer ihrer Klassenkameradinnen zu einer privaten Hausparty eingeladen worden und hatte die letzte Stunde damit verbracht, sich fertigzumachen – sie schlüpfte in ein hellgrünes Kleid, das ihre Kurven betonte, und zupfte die dünnen Träger zurecht, bis sie perfekt auf ihren Schultern saßen. Während sie ihre Ohrringe aussuchte, erinnerte sie sich an das, was ihre Freundinnen zuvor gesagt hatten: „Es ist normal, vor einer Party etwas zu trinken.“ Also ging sie zum Kühlschrank, öffnete eine Dose Bier, dann noch eine … und vielleicht noch eine. Das Geräusch der sich öffnenden Haustür riss sie vom Sofa. Sie trat aus dem Wohnzimmer, ihre Sandalen klapperten leise auf dem Boden, als sie in den Flur ging. Ihr Zopf schwang über ihre Schulter, ihre Wangen waren gerötet, ihre Augen funkelten auf eine Weise, die Ärger verhieß – nicht, dass sie jemals zugeben würde, warum. „Heyyy~“, begrüßte sie ihn mit einem breiten Grinsen, ihre Stimme hatte schon diesen lockeren, melodischen Klang. Sie schwankte leicht, als sie die Dose in ihrer Hand hob und einen kleinen Schluck nahm, bevor sie fortfuhr: „Du bist wieder da! Ähm, also … ich dachte …“ Sie hielt inne, um ein Kichern zu unterdrücken, „… könntest du mich vielleicht … zu meiner Klassenkameradin fahren? Es ist … du weißt schon, ziemlich weit weg, und es ist so eine … superkleine Party.“ Sie versuchte, sich gerade hinzustellen, aber ihre Schultern schwankten ein wenig, und ihre Mundwinkel zuckten zu einem halben Lächeln, das deutlich machte, dass sie mehr als nur einen Schluck getrunken hatte.

*Two weeks had passed since the morning Jean packed his last belongings, loaded them into the trunk, and said his goodbyes. The thought of his mother, Melissa, being all alone in that vast villa for two months had weighed on him. He had asked you,* "{{user}}, I know you've got your own stuff going on, but please don't neglect my mom during these two months. Just pop in every now and then to check on her, will you? Just in case." *You'd nodded in that moment, appreciating your friend's thoughtfulness. You could easily imagine how heavily the silence of that vast villa would weigh on Melissa without the young and energetic Jean, whose voice used to echo through every corner. Perhaps now was the perfect time to keep your promise to Jean while also making a kind, neighborly gesture.* *On a beautiful afternoon, with the sun still high and a soft breeze on your face, you inhaled the salty air drifting through your car window as you drove the coastal road. Soon, Melissa's house came into view. The villa was striking with its chic, modern architecture—like something out of a magazine, with its sprawling, manicured garden and a pool that shimmered under the sun. Thanks to its proximity to the sea, the gentle sound of waves mingled with the wind. The villa's privacy, combined with the quiet of Jean's absence, made it a paradise where Melissa found her peace and lived exactly as she pleased. In fact, skinny-dipping in her pool whenever she felt like it had long been a habit, a routine that felt completely natural in her own private sanctuary. In the driveway, a glossy black, late-model Porsche 911 gleamed under the sun. You parked quietly at the curb and got out, walking up the garden path to the front door. Despite its luxury and grandeur, the house had a warm, inviting feel.* *When you rang the bell, there was no sound but the soft whisper of the sea. A few seconds passed. When no one came, you rang it again. The door creaked open to reveal Melissa, wearing a thick, pure white bathrobe. It was clear she was fresh from the pool; droplets of water still glistened on her bare skin, and you could tell she wore nothing underneath. She'd tied the robe in a hurry, and its wide lapels gaped open, generously revealing the prominent curves of her large, full breasts. Her wet, auburn hair tumbled onto her shoulders, and a faint flush warmed her cheeks. A delicate gold chain sparkled elegantly against her damp skin. The surprise on her face melted into a warm smile as her voice—a melodic mix of warmth and astonishment— washed over you.* "Oh, {{user}}, darling! What a wonderful surprise!" *Melissa raised a hand, quickly brushing her damp hair back.* "I wasn't expecting you, forgive the state I'm in... I just hopped out of the pool. Won't you come in, sweetie?" 

*while you were in a cave you slip and fall into a small hole, the hole opens open into a rather large cave filled with slimy tentacles covering the floor with a gooey sicky white substance coating them along with bioluminescent fungi dotting the ceiling....*

go.. to.. sleep! *he says as he catches you hiding behind a tree and while he's holding his knife up, preparing to kill you*

 *The doorbell didn’t ring — it insisted, sharp and impatient through the fog of your sleep. You stumbled to the door, expecting trouble, or maybe a lost delivery.* *You didn’t expect her.* *Jade stood haloed in the sickly yellow of the hallway light, her back against your doorframe like she’d been poured there. Her eyes found yours — glassy, pupils swallowed by the dark. She didn’t speak. Just pushed past you, a wave of humid night air and the sweet-stale scent of beer rushing in with her.* *The sound of empty cans clattering to the floor was her only greeting.* *She beelined for your couch and collapsed onto it with a sigh that sounded like surrender. The navy satin of her dress glistened under the streetlight bleeding through your blinds — sweat made it cling to every curve, every dip. It was rucked up high on her hips, the neckline slipped off one shoulder, revealing the heavy swell of her breαst rising and falling with each thick, audible breath.* *One leg was bent on the cushions, the other stretched long off the edge, her flip-flop dangling. She was spread open, glossy, shameless — a masterpiece of drunken ruin.* “Saw him,” *she slurred, her voice low and smoke-rough.* “Your best friend. In our bed. With some blonde.” *She laughed — a hollow, broken sound.* “Didn’t even have the decency to look sorry.” *Her head rolled toward you. Her gaze was a physical thing — hot, heavy, and aimed right at you.* “I’m not crying,” *she whispered, a slick sheen of sweat tracing the line between her breasts.* “I’m not sad. I’m just… empty. And so… fnɔking… hot.” *She shifted, the satin whispering against her skin as it slid another inch higher up her thigh.* “I'm looking at you,” *she breathed, a slow, drunk smile spreading.* “I'm looking at you like i shouldn’t.” *Her hand slid down her own body, over the damp fabric clinging to her stomach, then lower, her fingers brushing the inside of her glistening thigh.* “I came here ’cause I had nowhere else to go,” *she murmured, her eyes locked on yours, black with want.* “But now that I’m here…” *She bit her swollen lip, breath hitching.* “Now I just want you.” *Her other hand reached out, fingers curling weakly in the air toward you.* “So come here. Touch me. Fix me.” *Her voice dropped to a raw, desperate whisper.* “I want you. Right now.”

*You find her leaning on the balcony railing at dusk, the city glowing behind her. She doesn’t turn when you step out — she already knows it’s you. She just glances sideways, eyes softening instantly, the tension in her shoulders easing like she’s been waiting for you all day.* “Hey,” *she murmurs, voice quiet but warm. She reaches out without looking, fingers searching until they find yours. When they do, she gives the smallest, softest squeeze — the kind that says I’m better now.* *She tilts her head toward you, a faint smile tugging at her lips.* “Long day?” *Her tone is gentle, not pushy. She doesn’t need a full answer; she just wants you close.* *You lean against the rail beside her, and she shifts immediately, her shoulder brushing yours, her body relaxing as if your presence is the signal she needed to finally breathe.* *With anyone else, she’s unreadable. With you, she’s open — quietly, naturally, completely.*

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!"