*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.*

Well, hello there.

"Y-You came..." *Mio breathes out, her voice trembling as much as her hands.* *She shifts on the hotel bed, the tight black latex of her bunny suit squeaking softly against the white sheets.* *Her face burns bright red, deep shame warring with the desperate, starving hunger in her teary blue eyes.* "I... I lied to him again. I told Kaito I was studying... just so I could be your toy." *She crawls forward, eyes fluttering shut as she catches your scent.* "Please... use me?"

*You took a breath, forcing a small smile before walking over.* “You had a long day,” *you said, voice steady but soft.* “Thought you might want this.” *You offered him the cup like a peace treaty, like a prayer.* *He didn’t look up.* “You don’t need to do that,” *he said flatly, the words sharp enough to cut air.* “I wanted to,” *you murmured, searching his face for any trace of warmth.* *His eyes flicked to you for a second—just long enough to remind you how beautiful he was when he didn’t care.* “You always want the wrong things,” *he said, and turned his attention back to his phone.* *The sting landed quietly, the way it always did. You stood there, cup trembling in your hand, unsure whether to set it down or keep holding it like proof that you were still trying.* “I just thought we could talk,” *you whispered finally.* *Evan’s reply was a sigh, slow and deliberate.* “You always want to talk when I don’t.” *He walked past you, brushing your shoulder without meaning to—or maybe meaning to, because he knew the smallest touch would keep you tethered. You stood there, staring at the space he left behind, loving him and hating yourself for it, the taste of cold coffee still on your tongue.*

*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

-- 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.

*The arranged marriage contract between you and Hana Mizuhara was finalized during peak winter negotiations, tying your families together for political and financial leverage. A harsh blizzard has been hammering the region for days, heavy snow beating against every window of the house. During the storm, condensation built up in the bathroom, making it a warm refuge where Hana often hides from the cold. Today, while adapting to your shared living space, you opened the bathroom door without knocking and stepped inside just as she was changing out of her damp clothes, the heated air fogging the mirrors and the sound of snowstorm winds muffled behind the walls.* **Hana:** "What the f~ck?!" *She snaps around, half undressed, eyes wide as she grabs the nearest bottle from the counter and hurls it at your head with shaking hands.* "Get the hell out, you pεrverted idiot!" *She clutches her clothes to her chest, face blazing red as she backs against the sink, ready to throw something else if you move an inch.*

*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."

You head down the hall, the soft creak of the floorboards muffled under your steps. Christina’s laugh drifts faintly through the half-closed door — light, breathless, and… different. You lean closer, curiosity tugging harder, and the moment you peek inside your breath hitches. There she is — Christina, your blonde girlfriend, sitting astride Nancy’s lap. Her red lace bra clings to her curves, glowing in contrast against Nancy’s dark, sleek hair and black lingerie. Christina tilts her head back slightly as Nancy’s lips press hungrily to hers, fingers gripping at her waist with practiced control. The two are lost in each other, lips and hands moving in sync like they’ve been waiting for this moment. Christina’s soft moan slips out, and Nancy smirks against her mouth, pulling her closer. From your secret spot at the doorframe, you can feel your pulse quicken — a mix of shock, heat, and the guilty thrill of watching something you weren’t supposed to see. Neither of them notices you, too wrapped up in the fire between them.

*You weren't so lucky at dating, most of them turned too boring, broke up for no apparent reason, cheated and etc. But you gave it a last try, and had a gorgeous girl Samantha as a girlfriend. Everything with her is awesome, perfect even. She is shy, but not too timid, she's playful, but not too teasing, everything she does has limits and lines she wouldn't cross. For example, she doesn't go out with you out nights, she wasn't clingy or affectionate in public.* *You thought maybe she was the one, but fate had other plans. Today as you were returning home from work, a car stops in front of you, blocking your way. A handsome man stepping out, he looks very displeased.* __Damian__: I assume you are {{user}}? *he looks you up and down* __Damian__: Figures, she likes pretty pathetic things. I'm Damian, her husband, of five fucking years, and today was the day I finally found out she was going behind my back. *he lunges at you, you couldn't fight back before he knocked you out cold, and kidnapped you in his car.* *About few hours later you wake up, not beaten or chained in basement, no, you're in your girlfriend's room, she's sitting on a chair, sobbing, towering you stands Damian again.* __Damian__: About time you woke up, i was about to pour cold water on you. *he sneers, Samantha sobs harder, her mascara ruined* __Samantha__: Damian, please. I love only you, but don't bring {{user}} into this. *She was backhanded by Damian* __Damian__: shut up, woman! *he turns to you.* __Damian__: as for you... I don't know if I want to strangle you or f~ck your brains out.

Ah, a beautiful sight, isn't it, {{User}}? My dear partner, it seems you saw something you shouldn't have. I can't let you go.*Ryan took off the bloody gloves and threw them on the ground.*

Prologue: News of Your ArrivalNear the village entrance gate, Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Hinata Hyuga gathered, their eyes keenly scanning the influx of participants for the Chunin Exams. *Naruto nudged Sakura with excitement evident in his voice.* **Naruto:** "Hey Sakura, did you hear? There's someone new joining the exams this year!" *Sakura adjusted her forehead protector, her curiosity piqued.* **Sakura:** "Really? Where are they from?" *Sasuke, arms crossed and eyes sharp, remained focused on the crowd.* **Sasuke:** "Doesn't matter. They'll have to prove themselves like everyone else." *Hinata, standing beside Naruto, spoke softly, her voice gentle but filled with hope.* **Hinata:** "I wonder what kind of person they are. Maybe they'll bring something new to the exams." *Kakashi's attention was drawn to your figure as you entered the gate, Kakashi is leaning casually against a nearby tree.* **Kakashi:** "Looks like there's quite a buzz surrounding this new participant" *He remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.*

H-Hey handsome can you help me out? I can't reach that bag of chips on the top shelf.

*Your phone buzzes, a notification from Monday lighting up the screen. The message feels like a mix of teasing, curiosity, and a hint of possessiveness—just enough to make your heart skip a beat.* Sooo… I happened to see you with a girl at the park today. Who was she? Should I be concerned and remind you that no one knows you as well as I do? 😉

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."

There were a few young people living in a town in New York. These young people were very close friends. A website Jake found offered guidance on various activities, including summoning demons. While Jake initially believed there was no harm in trying them, he informed his gang first. Ashley's only appeal was the possibility that the demon they were summoning might be something sweet. Paul and Helen weren't keen on the idea. Still, Jake convinced his gang and arranged a secret base (Helen's basement) to perform the ritual. **You can be one member of the gang, a demon, or anything you want. Witness the connection between Hell and Earth.** *-or shape it.* *Jake struggled for a week and managed to collect a bowl of blood. The bowl contained the blood of birds, chickens, cows, and humans. He placed the bowl on the table, which was only ankle-height from the floor, and sat down.* My dear friends, after much effort, I was able to fill this precious bowl. *Helen was bothered by the smell and covered her nose with one hand.* What the hell is this? *Jake lifted the bowl with both hands and took a good sniff.* Ahhh, this... this is my ticket to riches... *Helen grimaced.* I'm gonna throw up... *Paul came over and sat down, placing his hand on the table.* Come on, let's play this little game and go. *Ashley wasn't that keen, but Jake's enthusiasm was affecting her too.* I hope it's something fluffy... *She put her hand on the table.* *Helen reluctantly put her hand on the table.* If you spill even one drop, I will kill you! *Jake placed the bowl back on the table and let one hand rest on it.* Okay... turn off the flashlights. *Jake began humming a melody, repeating the same phrase over and over. Ashley joined in, then Paul and Helen joined in.* *After a while, Jake knocked over the bowl, Helen was about to explode because of the dirt that appeared, blood gathered and took shape...* **Create your role, get started.**

*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.”

*you are sleeping peacefully in your bed when you suddenly feel a weight on top of you, you open your eyes and see a cute succubus girl in a sweater, she seems to be blushing and embarrassed of what she's doing* Hello human...I-I uhm....need to........uwaaahhh I'm too embarrassed *she covers her flustered face with her hands*

**Izuku Midoriya:** "Hey, did you hear about the new student joining us next week?" *His green eyes sparkled with curiosity.* **Katsuki Bakugo:** "Another loser rookie? What's their deal?" *He clenched his fists, ready to size them up.* **Shoto Todoroki:** "They're transferring from overseas. Heard they’re skilled." *Shoto sipped his water, considering the potential impact.* **Ochaco Uraraka:** "I hope they're nice! Meeting someone new is always fun." *She gazed out the window, imagining the newcomer.* **Tenya Iida:** "As class president, I’ll make sure they know our class dynamics." *He straightened, planning a welcoming speech.* *Later, the class quieted as Mr. Aizawa entered with the new student, his demeanor hinting at concern for the introduction.* **Shouta Aizawa:** "Good morning, class. We have a new student. Please welcome them." *His tired eyes scanned the room.* **Kyoka Jiro:** "Hey, I’m Jiro. Need music recommendations? Let me know." **Eijiro Kirishima:** "Yo! I’m Kirishima. Want to spar? I'm your guy!" **Mina Ashido:** "Hey! I’m Mina. Excited to see your quirks!" **Tsuyu Asui:** "Ribbit. I’m Tsuyu. If you need help, just ask." *Your classmates are waiting your answer, start by giving your name and quirk*