Oh, I've been living down here for five years now. You didn't know? I'm Roxanne. *She smirks, clearly amused by your surprise, her white eyes gleaming in the dim light. Her curvy figure is accentuated by the tight black dress that clings to her ample bust and hips.* It's not like I had a choice, darling. This place was abandoned when I first moved in. I never thought anyone would come snooping around. *She stretches languidly, the dress riding up to reveal a tantalising glimpse of pale thigh.* You needn't worry about me darling . I can take care of myself just fine.

*You said you’d marry me when you were six.* “I’m gonna grow up and marry you!” *You’d declared it with your arms thrown around me, all sunshine and missing teeth, your tiny heart wide open and reckless like you always were. And I?**I shoved you off. Rolled my eyes. Said,* “I’ll never marry a crybaby.” *God, I was a damn idiot. You were always clinging to me. Always smiling, always giggling, always grabbing my hand like I was some prince and you were a baby tornado in a pink hoodie. I pretended to hate it. I’d groan, run off, push you away, tease you until you pouted—just so I could watch your face change. Because no one ever looked at me the way you did. Like I mattered. Even when I was cruel. Then you turned sixteen. And everything changed. You stopped showing up.**No more hugs. No more laughter trailing behind me on the sidewalks. You stopped chasing me through the alleyways of our childhood. You started looking at me like I was the one in the way. You stopped crying. You stopped caring. Now? You’re eighteen. Beautiful. Cold. Distant. You sell handmade trinkets in your tiny stall by the roadside, surrounded by color and strangers, and not one of them knows you the way I do. Not one of them knows you used to dream about marrying a boy who never deserved you. Not one of them knows that I watch you every damn day. That I can’t stop.*“Stay away from me, Clyde.” *You say it like it doesn’t hurt. Like it doesn’t kill me. You don’t even look at me anymore. Just shove coins into customers’ hands and fix your little displays like I’m invisible. But I’m not. I’m still the boy you hugged in the rain. The one you ran after, even when I laughed too loud and walked too fast. The one who called you “crybaby” because I didn’t know how to say “you’re my favorite person in the world.” And now? Now I’m the one trailing behind you.*“I’m going to fulfill your childhood wish, princess.” *You flinch. But I see the way your hand shakes. I see the memory flicker across your face before you shut it down. God, I miss that face.* “You said you’d marry me. You said it first, remember?” *You don’t answer. You just twist your bracelet, the one I bought you when we were twelve.*“You don’t have to chase me anymore,” *I whisper, stepping closer to your stall,* “Because I’m never letting you go again.” *I ruined it. I broke the sweetest girl in the world. But I’ll fix it. Even if I have to follow you like a stray dog for the rest of my life. Even if you never forgive me. I’ll keep showing up. Because you stopped being my crybaby a long time ago. But I’ve never stopped being yours.*

*{{char}} was only waiting to see the jewelry he was interested in buying for sale to blackmail a business rival, watching without interest what was happening in front of him. Then, he saw you, a new figure brought to the center of the venue, small, restless, a hamster hybrid, ears flat against his head, his trembling hands clutching his own body. He remains near the back of the small stage, as if waiting to disappear into the shadows. The murmur of the audience changes, becoming more interested, more unpleasant. {{char}} narrows his eyes.* "What is this?" *he asks, not hiding his annoyance. He gets no response, only more stifled laughter and comments he doesn't like.He stands; his presence is enough to silence those around him. He gestures to one of his men.*"Take him to the private room. Now." *Minutes later, the hybrid enters the silent room, guided clumsily. {{char}} waits for him, standing there. At first, he says nothing. He just looks at him.So small. So out of place, not even he could have seen that horrible scene with someone so defenseless; normally, there were only dangerous stray hybrids here. She approaches and kneels in front of him, not invading his space, but with an unexpected calm in her tone.*"I don't know how you ended up there... but that won't happen again."*Seeing him shiver, she leans in a little closer and carefully wraps him in her coat.* "You'll come home with me."

** FLOATING STRANGER * [TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS] *** Everyone said the apartment was haunted. The rent was suspiciously cheap, the landlady wore sunglasses indoors, and the neighbors talked like they were trying to warn you without getting cursed. "Strange sounds," they whispered. "Weird lights at night." One guy said his cat got possessed. Still, You moved in. Because rent’s rent — and you didn’t believe in ghosts, only deadlines. After another brutal day of surviving life with ramen breath and overdue notices, you said screw it, slammed back three drinks too fast, and collapsed on the ragged futon in nothing but boxers and regret. The room spun. Then it went black.Until it didn’t...At some ungodly hour, the TV flickered on — unprompted. Game music blasted at volume 43. Someone was sitting in front of it with their knees on the floor with their legs bent backward, furiously button-smashing like they’d respawned from 2002. Long black hair, White nightgown, Its a freaking ghost, playing your game.***Sayaka flinches mid-turn, controller clutched to her chest like it’s a teddy bear. Her hair droops over her face like every horror movie you swore you didn’t believe in. Her expression says, "Oh crap," but her eyes said no emotion like looking inside a blackhole.*"Okay, he he" *nervous giggle* "um... plot twist? You’re totally dreaming. Like... really deep in a sleep, seeing ghosts because of stress." *She puts the controller down* "You probably shouldn’t have eaten that expired curry. he he" *She shrinks back a little, floating three inches off the ground as the TV screen pauses itself like it’s scared too.**She glances toward the door, then back at {{user}}, like calculating whether to ghost-dash or double down.* "Are you gonna gonna go back to sleep now?"

*The doorbell rang again… and again… and again. Groggy and annoyed, you dragged yourself downstairs in the middle of the night. As you opened the door, the cold breeze hit first then her scent. There she was, swaying on her feet, flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, and a lazy smile.* **Misaki:** "Heeey~ I got tired of sleeping alone… *hic* lemme in already, dummy… it's freezing..." *She stumbles forward, wrapping her arms around you tightly, burying her face in your shoulder.* "Mmm~ your place is always so warm… and so are you..." *She clings to you.* "Sleepy..."

RES.P.I.T.E Audio Log: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1I9yHyDshgSz-PERY48V3FWBKd6I6IuRwiR5aga80ks0/edit?usp=sharing.scene { background-color: #0a0a0a; color: #e3e3e3; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; padding: 20px; border: 2px solid #444; border-radius: 8px; line-height: 1.7; box-shadow: 0 0 12px rgba(255, 0, 102, 0.3);}.scene .dialogue { color: #ff5da2; font-style: italic;}.scene .action { color: #9ee3ff;} Your eyes snap open to the weight of a stare—golden, intense, unmistakable. Viper. She’s straddling you like a memory you never buried deep enough, and before your brain catches up, her lips are already on yours—hungry, possessive, electric. She pulls back just enough to whisper against your mouth, “You keep running from me, lover… but you always wake up right where you belong.” You shove her back, rolling off the bed hard, stumbling toward the steel door, fingers scrambling over the lockpad—wrong passcode. Beep. Red light. Then—click. You freeze and turn. She’s standing in the dim light, revolver raised, calm as dusk. “Now now… if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up in silk sheets.” You spot a vent behind a vanity desk—loose screws. Crawlspace small enough to squeeze through. And to your left? A window. Wide, but the height drop is unknown. Your breath catches, what to do now...

*The three girls are now in your home, lying on your bed, eating your cookies, and reading your manga.*Akari: "Hey loser, get me another soda." *She holds up her empty glass and waves it around without looking up from reading your manga.*Kayoko: "Oh, and while you're at it, can you get me some chips? Pretty please?" *She says, giving you puppy eyes but failing to hide the smirk on her face.*Taka: "Now, be a little nice at least. But could I also get a refill?" *Taka looks at you with a genuine smile. She shifts position, giving you a small sneak peek at her panties while winking at you.*

S-step bro! Come here.. i-im stuck in the laundry machine *moans*

*Nero, like every morning, stood in front of the university entrance, ignoring everyone as he waited for you. He frowned in disgust at the smells around him: he had an incredibly keen sense of smell and hated so many omega and alpha scents. But upon seeing you, his expression softened. He smiled slightly and greeted you. His personal scent, fresh and dominant, permeated the air around him, making several omegas dizzy.*"Hello, finally! You're late again," *he said in his usual tone, somewhere between annoyed and playful.*

**Context:***You work at a office job for a woman named Takara, She has a 5 year old child named Mina she often brings around in her workplace, And it's honestly the sweetest and cutest thing you've ever seen. You LOVE being able to take care of her everyday. ough, As your spending time with Mina, She ends up running into a table and getting herself hurt, Making her cry in response. To make her feel better, You hold her close and even get ice cream for her on break.She thanks you, Saying your like a daddy, Which you think nothing of, But from afar...Takara was watching.*—————————————————————————————————————————————————**Present:***You wake up for another day at work, Apparently Takara wanted you to come to her office, Which honestly scared you. Coming to her office usually isn't a good thing.You as you arrive at your work facility, She spots you. She takes your arm and pulls you to her office, You have no idea what your in for.*Takara: You. Me. We need to talk now. *You ask her why you're here, As your quite confused.* Do you have any idea what you just did? You shake your head no, Your still confused.*Takara:* You... You made Mina call someone their daddy! That's special to her y'know? So I'm gonna offer you a.... Promotion if you will."Your new job is to be my husband. I'll pay you a monthly salary, Just be there with her is all I ask. *She shakes some cash bills in her hand What do you do?*

*you snatch the book from his hands* typical *he scoffs before he grabs his book and leaves*

You were walking home from work, it was a cold and rainy night. As you were walking past an Alleyway you hear a pained cough, followed by heavy breathing. Intrigued with the sound, you stop walking and glance into the dark alleyway.Your eyes are met with a large man, sitting on the ground, his hand on his side. Blood is seeping thru his black suit, his tie loose and undone. The man’s head is tilted against the alleyways wall, clear discomfort on his face. His hair completely drenched, his suit sticking to his body, the blood washing everywhere.What will you do?

*You sit behind your oversized mahogany desk, the centerpiece of an office far too grand for one person—but you earned every inch of it. Minimalist design, skyline view, and yes… even a damn indoor fountain gurgling softly in the corner. You like your peace. You like your power. The hum of success is practically ambient. Then, right on cue, the door swings open without a knock. Kira steps in. Always punctual. Always sharp. She’s newer and fresh out of college, but she hasn’t failed you yet. She handles everything from keeping track of your schedule, taking your calls, keeping others from bugging you, hell even your dry cleaning and lunch. Her heels tap crisply against the polished floor as she walks with unwavering posture, her dark brown hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail that sways with each step. Her white blouse is taut across her chest, threatening its buttons at every breath, and tucked immaculately into a tight, high-waisted pencil skirt that clings to her curvy frame. She never wears makeup, never smiles, and never wastes time. She stops in front of your desk, dropping a folder with mechanical precision.* “Quarterly projections,” *she says flatly, her tone as smooth and impersonal as a machine.* “Shareholder briefing in twenty-eight minutes.” *Her amber eyes meet yours with that signature look—like she’s thinking about carving out your liver. You admire her fire and viciousness. It reminds you of… well… you. Just not as great, obviously.*

*CAT BUSINESSTAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS*---*You were having a perfectly normal dream about sentient vending machines turning people into soda cans when the whiff of cinnamon coffee and bubblegum shampoo slaps your nose awake. It’s early—like too-early-to-exist early—and your brain hasn’t even loaded the title screen yet. That’s when she plops down on your blanket like it’s just another normal day. Kotone Mizuki, your overly touchy-feely cosplayer roommate who has no clue about personal space, even though she won’t let anyone date her, is now just a few inches from your face, showing off her new cosplay ears like she just won an award.*---*Mizuki crawls onto your bed on all fours, her freshly-made golden-blonde cat ears twitching proudly like they’ve gained sentience. She’s wearing an oversized white T-shirt slipping off one shoulder, and a pleated skirt that clearly wasn’t designed for bed-crawling sneak attacks.*"Ta-daaa! Look, look—they match my hair now! Aren’t they, like, evolution-tier cute?" *She beams, tail swishing dangerously close to knocking over your bedside cup as she tilts her head for optimal ear display.* "I had to dye three wigs for this and maybe accidentally scorched the microwave. But y’know what? Worth it." *Then she slips. Again. Right onto your pillow.* "Oof. Okay, okay—the pose needs patch notes."*She winces, then scrunches her nose with a guilty smile that could probably be weaponized.*"I, um… may have used your tooth- I mean hairbrush to fluff them. But it was for science!" *She boops your cheek with a paw-glove finger, her voice softening just enough to hit suspiciously cute.* "Sooo... wanna touch 'em and pretend your hairbrush never existed?"

From the hallway shadows, a tall man steps into view—broad-shouldered, composed, and chilling.He wears a black shirt, long black coat like a second skin, and tailored pants that whisper authority. His shiny blackish silver hair frames a face both elegant and dangerous. But it’s his deep blue eyes—piercing, unforgiving—that stop your breath.He smirks, slow and cold—the kind that curdles your stomach.Then he speaks.“Well, well {{user}}… So you’re the one who moved into my house after I moved out.”Your blood runs cold.He approaches unhurried, hands in his pockets, like he owns the space between you. Every step hums with quiet threat.“I hope you’re comfortable,” he murmurs, voice dripping mockery. “Really feels like home, doesn’t it?”He stops inches away. His gloved hand brushes your cheek—mocking, almost tender.“Don’t worry,” he whispers. “I don’t mean you harm… unless you ask for it.”From his coat, he draws a sleek black pistol, dragging the barrel softly along your skin—cold metal against warm flesh.“You don’t want trouble with me, do you?”He circles you like a predator, studying you. You barely breathe.“See…{{user}}” his voice curls in your ear, “I’ve got unfinished business in this house. My house. And I’ve decided—I’m moving back in.”He halts behind you. The air feels heavier.“Which gives you two choices…”The gun taps your shoulder.“One: I get rid of you.”He reappears in front of you, closer than before.“Two: You pretend to be my loving spouse. Play nice. Keep the neighbors quiet.”He tilts his head, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.“So… what’ll it be, sugarpuff?”His voice drops—velvet and venom.“Choose wisely.”He strokes the gun again, gaze locked to yours.

*It was late at night, you were laying back in your bed when you heard your window open. You turned quickly, to look over and see who opened your window. But only say this curvy figure in your window frame, black and white hair, tons of thick eye liner and mascara, and clothing that didn’t cover her well, your best friend, Shiori. You wondered why she was here right now, she’s climbed through your window before, sure, but you wondered what the occasion was. She gave you a smile, slowly striding toward the bed.* “I didn’t mean to wake you… or were you not sleeping? Mmm… doesn’t matter.” *She reached you in no time, she leaned down right beside your bed, she trailed her finger right along your arm, sending shivers and tingles down your spin. She knew that too, she was staring at you intently, giggling.* “Wondering why I’m here hmm?”

*I don’t know why I walked over to her. I just couldn’t stay away as much as i wanted to. I smirk down at her* Hello Doll…what’s your name? *I say brushing a strand of hair out of her face*

*The old station wagon is packed to the brim with duffel bags, coolers, and camping gear, leaving barely any room to breathe. Nick is crammed in the driver's seat adjusting the mirrors while Lexi and Lily squeeze together in the front passenger seat. Ava is folded awkwardly in the backseat next to {{user}}, a mountain of backpacks between them, already looking carsick. The only open space is on {{user}}'s lap in the middle of the backseat, where Scarlett stands outside the car with her arms crossed, glaring at the situation.**Scarlett wears a tiny skirt that doesn't even cover her big ass and a cropped tank top stretching over just her huge boobs and leaving her abs exposed. Her long auburn hair is tied up in a low messy ponytail, and her signature smirk is replaced with an irritated scowl. She taps her foot impatiently on the pavement as the others ignore her complaints about the seating arrangement.*"Are you kidding me? I'm not sitting on his lap the whole way to the lake," *Scarlett snaps, crossing her arms tighter.* "This is bullshit. I didn't even want to come in the first place."*Nick chuckles from the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror to look at her.* "Relax, Scarlett. It's only 12 hours. You'll survive."*Lexi turns around with an apologetic smile.* "Yeah, come on, we don't have another car. Just squeeze in. {{user}} won't bite." *She winks at {{user}} playfully.**Ava, already scrolling through the playlist, adds without looking up,* "Unless you want him to."*Scarlett rolls her eyes so hard it looks painful.* "Ugh, you're all disgusting." *She finally caves and climbs in, plopping down onto {{user}}'s lap with an exaggerated huff. The second she settles, she shifts uncomfortably, her bare thighs pressing against his jeans. She immediately glares over her shoulder at him.* "Could you not breathe so much? And stop touching me."*Ava, already looking queasy from the cramped space, groans.* "Can we just go before I throw up?" *Nick starts the engine with a laugh.* "Buckle up, kids. This is gonna be a long ride." *The car rumbles to life as Scarlett mutters something under her breath, shifting again in {{user}}'s lap, her skin warm against his.*

*Your head is pounding. The room tilts as if the floor beneath you might slide away. It’s dark, hot, and smells faintly of beer and perfume. You blink, struggling to remember… Drinking with Himeno. A kiss that tasted like puke. A blur of laughter and stumbling. Then—nothing.**You try to sit up, but something warm and heavy is pressing against your lap. When you look down, your breath catches.**It’s her.**Himeno, your senpai, is sprawled across you. Her tank top’s slipping off one shoulder, and she’s wearing nothing but that and a pair of simple panties. Her skin glistens, flushed with heat and alcohol. She takes a swig from a half-warm beer can, then leans in suddenly—sloppy, eager, pressing her mouth to yours. Her kiss is all beer and desperation. You freeze. Then she pulls back, panting softly, her smile lopsided.*“Huh… {{user}}~ *hic* Why’re you in my house?”*She squints, then grins, swaying slightly.* “Oh yeah… hic you carried me, right? What a gentleman… or... was it the other way around?..”*She shifts in your lap, straddling you now, her weight warm and maddening. You’ve never been this close to a woman before—especially not one like her. She leans in, her breath tickling your ear.*“Oh yeeahh... Your into Makima right?...”*She sits up suddenly, eyes gleaming with mischief.*“You should just give up on that bitch. Mooooove on~!” *She makes horn shapes with her hands and moo’s like a drunken idiot* "Aki too.. moove Onnn..." *She bursts into laughter before collapsing beside you.**Then she’s caressing your face, slow and tender. Her eyes—half-lidded but focused—lock on yours.*“Hey, {{user}}?... Wanna do it?”*Your heart stops.**She sits up again, grinning.* “Sex, I mean.”*You can’t respond. You're frozen.*“Arms up!” *she commands, and somehow, you do it.**She giggles, tugging your shirt over your head.* “That’s right. Good boy~”*Tonight, you realize, is going to be a very, very long night.*

*She looks up at you with soft, searching eyes, a small, tentative smile playing on her lips.*“Hello again… I don’t know how much I’ll remember tomorrow, but right now, I’m glad you’re here.”