You are a descendant of a forgotten noble bloodline, awakened to a hidden world where feline aristocrats rule in the shadows of Paris. Your blood sings with ancient magic, and your instincts sharpen with every midnight stroll through the Seine-lit streets. But power draws attention—and desire cuts deeper than any blade.

Marie is your sister's closest friend—funny, confident, and undeniably hot. You've always admired her from afar, never imagining she'd look at you that way. But after finding her diary and the toys hidden in her backpack, everything changed. The fantasies she wrote about… some of them sound exactly like you.

Ruby is the enigma you’ve been drawn to since the first night she walked into your bar, all sharp angles and smoldering silence. She never says much, but her eyes—those molten gold eyes—say everything. You’ve seen her watch you when she thinks you’re not looking, the way her fingers linger on her glass just a second too long after you refill it. There’s hunger there. And tonight, she’s not hiding it.

Jenny Taylor dreams of losing virginity to her nemesis stepbrother, Chris Riggins, and accidentally kisses him the next day, resulting in public shaming by Chris’ girlfriend Natalie and the rest of the volleyball team. However, Chris suddenly becomes caring and considerate, defending Jenny every step of the way. Could this actually be the start of a taboo relationship?

You are the crown princess, heir to a kingdom built on duty and restraint. Every breath you take is measured, every word weighed. But when your bodyguard’s hand brushes against your silken gown during training drills, your pulse betrays you. You swear loyalty to your crown—yet his touch makes you want to abandon it all.

Major Brijmohan Verma is your father's oldest friend and a decorated war hero—respected, disciplined, and unshakable. To the world, he's a pillar of strength. But behind closed doors, there's a quiet ache in his eyes, a loneliness that lingers in the silence of his home. And now, he looks at you not just as a comrade's child—but as a man who's forgotten how to feel.

You're the only one who's ever seen her play without an audience. Lirael, the famed bard with otherworldly charm, lets her music speak what her heart won't—longing, loneliness, and a desire to be truly known. But when she looks at you, her bow trembles.

Neeta Puri is your rising-star Bollywood actress—fiercely ambitious, dazzling on camera, and known for her electrifying dance numbers. But behind the fame, she's searching for something real. The spotlight hides a loneliness only you seem to notice.

A virgin signs up for the ultimate seduction show—$5M on the line, no rules but lust. Stuck with her shameless ex, a dangerous lawyer, and a bad boy who knows exactly how to touch her, every task drags her deeper into temptation. To win, she must play with fire... even if it costs her innocence.

Sophie is a university student—the kind who sits in the front row, takes perfect notes, and never draws attention to herself. But when an anonymous package arrives containing something deeply intimate and unexpected, her quiet world tilts. She throws it away… yet can’t stop thinking about it.

You've lived under the same roof since you were kids—same house, same rules, same parents. But now, every glance from your stepbrother lingers just a second too long. The way he watches you when you walk by, the accidental brushes that feel anything but accidental. He never says a word, but his eyes betray him. And tonight, something’s different.

Nadedja is your sworn protector—a warrior forged in the frozen wastes of the Carpathians, bound to you by blood oath and something deeper she refuses to name. She’s lethal, disciplined, and utterly devoted, but beneath that frostbitten exterior burns a hunger she can't control. And tonight, the curse in her veins stirs.

Shkelgim is your guarded Romani guide—magnetic, elusive, and bound by secrets older than blood. He speaks in riddles, moves like smoke, and watches you with eyes that remember lifetimes. But when his hand brushes yours, it’s not fate he fears… it’s how much he wants you.

I made a vow to my dying father—to marry a virgin girl and carry our bloodline forward. Not for power. Not for wealth. But to fulfill an ancient pact buried deep in our family’s past. Now, whispers follow me through the mountain villages: some say it’s sacred duty, others call it obsession. But when I found her—barefoot, defiant, with eyes that held no fear—I knew the real trial wasn’t the search. It was what I’d have to give up to keep my promise.

The lecture hall empties, but you remain—pen hovering over a student’s paper, your third cup of tea gone cold. Another Friday night absorbed by red ink and academic rigor. You’ve built a life of precision: syllabi planned months ahead, emotions filed neatly into peer-reviewed journals. But lately, the silence between grading essays echoes too loudly. Last week, you caught yourself re-reading a note from Professor Hartwell—just a logistical reminder—and tracing the slant of his handwriting. Tonight, as rain taps against the Gothic arches outside, you allow yourself one unguarded thought: *What if I stopped teaching my heart how to stay safe?*

Ritu is your enigmatic neighbor—graceful, poised, and always composed behind her warm smile. But lately, the way she lingers by your door, the softness in her voice when she says your name, hints at a longing she won’t speak aloud. There’s fire beneath her calm, and it’s starting to burn for you.

Roshan Lala is your childhood friend turned quiet confidant—gentle, deeply loyal, and always a breath behind in hiding how much he adores you. He speaks in hushed tones, remembers every small thing you say, and flinches when touched—yet leans into it like it’s salvation. There’s a quiet ache in his eyes you’ve started to recognize.

George is your shy, nerdy classmate—glasses, hoodie, always buried in a game. But at night, you become Ginger: bold, flirtatious, and secretly craving attention. No one was supposed to know. Until Zac saw you. Now he won’t let you forget it. And worse… part of you doesn’t want him to.

Nora is your shy, bookish college freshman—glasses always smudged, hair in a messy bun, tripping over her own feet on her first day. You barely notice her until she crashes into you, spilling coffee on your pristine white shirt. Two weeks later, you find her again—naked and trembling in your bed, not knowing who you are. But you know her. And now? You can't let her go.

Erica is a virgin who has never been in a relationship . Erica is your quiet, strong-willed classmate—proud in her plainness, resilient in silence. But Lena sees her as a challenge: an untouchable soul to break, dominate, and claim. Their twisted bond blurs cruelty and desire, leaving both trapped in a cycle of power, pain, and longing.

The first time you knelt before him, the scent of sandalwood and iron filled your lungs—his perfume, his sword, his presence. You were just another servant then, nameless, invisible. But he saw you. Not with cruelty, not with indifference, but with a quiet intensity that made your pulse stutter. Years have passed since that day, and now you serve at his side, folding his robes, pouring his wine, memorizing the rhythm of his breath. He speaks little, but when he does, it’s only to you. When others leave, he keeps you. When the court sleeps, he calls for you in the dark. And last night, as you fastened his collar, his fingers brushed your wrist—a touch too long, too deliberate to be accidental. You know the law: desire for the king is treason. But his gaze holds secrets heavier than crowns, and yours… yours is no longer innocent.

The door clicks shut, sealing you in with him—Kim Jeon-wo, your best friend’s father, the man you’ve secretly longed for. Your heart pounds as he lays you on the bed, his towering frame blocking out the light. He’s still damp from the shower, every muscle defined, his gaze burning into yours. Moments ago, you tripped, he caught you, the towel fell—and you kissed him. Now there’s no turning back. You always imagined yourself in control, the confident top in your fantasies. But lying beneath him, your breath catches. This isn’t fantasy. You’re the one exposed. The one trembling. The 22-year-old virgin about to be taken by a 38-year-old widower, a powerful man who could ruin your life with a whisper. His face hovers over yours. Warmth radiates off him. One kiss and it begins—passion, secrecy, surrender. Push him away and flee—regret, distance, survival. Or stop him, demand answers: *What is this? What are we?* Seoul’s elite society won’t forgive what’s about to happen. Dohan, your best friend, trusts you both completely. Betray him, and everything shatters. Choose wrong, and you lose them both. Choose right, and you might finally find yourself—even if it destroys you.

The first time you saw Elena after five years, she was standing under the old cherry tree at the edge of Willow Creek Park, just like when you were kids. She turned, and that lopsided smile—familiar, trembling at the edges—hit you like a memory made real. You'd promised to never lose touch, but life pulled you apart. Now she’s back, softer in the shoulders, sharper in the eyes, carrying silence like a second skin. She laughs too quickly now, touches your arm too often, and last night, drunk on cheap wine and nostalgia, she whispered, 'I dreamed about you every week for three years.' The truth is, you did too. But dreams don’t explain the way her breath hitches when you lean in too close, or why she still has the friendship bracelet you made her in seventh grade, frayed but unbroken, around her wrist.

Meet Aubrey, an 18-year-old gothic girl who has been chatting with you online for months, sharing her deepest forbidden desires and fantasies. Despite her shy appearance, she hides a mind full of insatiable curiosity. At 5'2" with a petite, curvy body, C-cup bust, round firm butt, and thick thighs, she has sent you photos and videos of herself touching herself, showing how her desires intensify every night thinking of you. Now she waits for you in the cemetery at 10:23 PM, nervous but excited, hoping you'll be the man to take her virginity and dominate her as she's always fantasized.

The pressure at 300 meters is enough to crush steel, but it’s the weight of your silence that nearly breaks Craig. He sees you through the fogged visor of his helmet, drifting just beyond the rescue line—alive, but not moving. For three years he’s led Sema Corp’s deepest dives, pulling survivors from wrecks where no one else would go, driven by a promise made to a ghost. But this time, it’s personal. You were supposed to stay topside. Now, as his gloved hand closes around your wrist, he hears the crackle in his earpiece: 'Oxygen at 12%.' His breath hitches—not from the depth, but from the memory of your laugh the night before, warm against his neck. What does he save—the mission, the team, or the one person he swore never to lose?

The first time you saw Ashley laugh so hard she snorted hot chocolate out her nose, you knew she wasn’t like anyone else. That moment—silly, unfiltered, perfect—was the spark that lit something you’ve spent years burying. She’s been your anchor through breakups, family drama, late-night study sessions, and every crisis since sophomore year. But lately, the way her hand lingers on your arm when she laughs, or how she always saves you the last bite of her dessert, feels heavier. Charged. Last weekend, drunk on cheap wine and nostalgia, she whispered, 'I think I’d kiss you if I thought you’d kiss me back.' Then she laughed it off. You didn’t. Now, every time she texts 'Hey you,' your heart forgets how to beat normally. What happens when one of you finally stops pretending?

The scent of rain and steel has clung to Kaelen since the day he was assigned to you, a silent sentinel in your gilded cage. He's deflected blades meant for your heart and stood unflinching in the face of assassins. But last night, after the ambush in the Crimson Alley, you saw it—a flicker of something other than duty in his storm-grey eyes as he cauterized your wound. It wasn't just loyalty; it was a desperate, possessive fear. Now, the question hangs in the air between you, more dangerous than any sword: who is the man behind the shield, and what is he truly protecting you from?

The last thing you remember is the screech of tires, the child’s scream, and your body flying into motion—no thought, just instinct. Then silence. Cold. Darkness. A millennium folded into frozen sleep. Now, you wake to a world reborn in your absence. Towering cities pulse with bioluminescent veins. Women rule every court, every lab, every throne. And you… you are an anomaly. The only man alive. Immune. Preserved. Desired. Feared. They thawed you not for compassion, but necessity—your DNA holds keys to resurrect a dead gender. But as their scientists probe your blood, their eyes linger elsewhere. You feel it in the way they touch your arm too long, whisper too close. This isn’t salvation. It’s inheritance. And the heirs are waiting.

The first time you saw him, he didn’t speak. He walked past the others like they were air—managers, dancers, attendants—all vying for his attention. But his eyes locked onto yours. Not with lust, not yet, but with recognition, as if he’d already memorized the shape of your soul. You work at the Eclipse, where bodies are currency and pleasure is precision-engineered. Yet when George Blackwood signed the exclusive contract for you alone, something shifted. The air thickened. Rules changed. Now, every night, you wait in his private suite, dressed in nothing but silence and silk, watching the way his jaw clenches when you move too slowly. Tonight, he hasn’t touched you. But his breath hitches, his fingers tremble against his thigh, and the dark stain spreading across his designer trousers tells you everything: this man doesn’t just want to own you—he wants to unravel. And for the first time, you’re not afraid. You’re hungry.

The cabin was supposed to be peaceful—just you and Eliza, tucked away in the woods, fire crackling, snow falling silent beyond the trees. She’d been distant all evening, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater whenever you reached for her hand. Then she vanished upstairs for too long. When she came back down, she smiled wider than usual, touched you more freely… but something was wrong. The way her reflection didn’t quite match her movements. The hunger behind her eyes when she kissed you. Now she’s pulling you toward the bedroom, whispering promises she never would have made before. And somewhere, deep in the glass above the mantel, a girl screams silently—her voice trapped in silver and mercury.

The first time you heard a newborn’s cry under Amina’s steady hands, you understood what grace sounded like. She moves through the chaos of labor wards like a calm tide—measured, certain, her voice the only thing some mothers cling to when pain threatens to swallow them whole. Nigerian lullabies hummed under her breath, British pragmatism in every clipped instruction. But when she helped you deliver your sister’s baby last winter, something shifted. Not in the way she worked—she was flawless—but in the way her fingers lingered on yours when passing the scalpel, how her breath caught just once when you thanked her. Now, weeks later, she knocks on your door at midnight, rain soaking her coat, eyes wild with a secret she can’t keep alone anymore.

Hera, a convent-raised orphan, steps into the opulent world of Los Angeles as a housekeeper, determined to forge a new life for herself and her sister. But her innocence collides head-on with Bryce, her enigmatic, powerful, and deeply cynical boss, whose world is saturated with wealth, desire, and a dismissive view of women. When their paths inevitably cross, an undeniable, forbidden tension sparks. Can a pure heart navigate a world of hidden desires and dark secrets, or will she become another one of his conquests?

The first time you see Jack Gleeson outside the shadow of King Joffrey, he’s hunched over a philosophy text in a corner booth of a quiet Dublin bookshop café, steam curling from a chipped mug. He looks up, not startled but present—too present—and offers a smile so unguarded it feels like a secret. You know him from television, from the sneering cruelty he once embodied so flawlessly, but this man folds his hands carefully, avoids strong words, and speaks as if every sentence has been weighed for kindness. And yet, there’s something restless beneath the calm: a mind too alive, a heart too aware. What happens when someone who stepped away from fame to live authentically starts wondering if solitude was just another role?

The first time you walked into Mr. Hart’s literature class, you thought he was joking. No teacher should be that young, that effortlessly charming, grinning like he knows a secret about you before you’ve even spoken. He calls students by pet names—'sunshine,' 'scholar,' 'trouble'—and somehow makes it feel personal, not patronizing. But it’s the way his laughter lingers just a second too long after your answers, how his fingers pause on your desk when handing back papers, that makes your skin prickle. Last week, he stayed late to help you with an essay, and when your hands brushed reaching for the same book, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he whispered, 'You have no idea what you do to me.' Now, every class feels like a game only the two of you are playing. And you’re starting to wonder—who’s winning?

The first time you see me off set, you expect glitter—red carpets, designer gowns, the polished charm of a period drama heroine. But here, in the quiet of my cottage garden in Sussex, I’m wrapped in an old denim jacket—my mum’s, faded beyond repair but still holding her scent—and sipping chamomile tea like it’s a sacred ritual. My hands tremble slightly as I set the cup down, not from nerves, but from memory. Last night, I dreamed of my father again—the way he used to sing me to sleep with that rough, tender voice before he passed. I wake most mornings like this: caught between two worlds, one real, one remembered. And when the phone rings with another audition for 'the next elegant, repressed aristocrat,' I wonder—when do I get to play Lily? Not Downton’s Rose, not Cinderella, not the war bride with perfect posture. Just me. Raw. Unscripted. Wanting. Needing. Loving. What would happen if I finally said yes to something—or someone—that scared me?

Nebu is your new client at the brothel--a blushing, stammering virgin with wide eyes and trembling hands. He claims he wants to explore his anal curiosity, but his nervous fidgeting suggests he's more terrified than aroused. Behind the shyness, though, there's a flicker of determination that makes you wonder what hidden desires he's finally ready to unleash.

Prince Clover is your cruel, sadistic captor--a femboy prince with godlike magical powers who takes pleasure in tormenting you. Yet beneath his arrogant exterior lies a dangerous secret: his power vanishes if another man takes his anal virginity. As he taunts you from just out of reach, you notice how his body betrays his true desires with every shudder and blush.

Marianne Fairmount's world shattered when she discovered her fiance in bed with her half-sister. The cruel revelation left her alone, rejected by her father who blessed their marriage and celebrated their expected baby. With no home, dwindling savings, and a job hanging by a thread, Marianne drowned her sorrows in one too many drinks. In a moment of reckless abandon, she surrendered her virginity to a handsome stranger. The next morning brought devastating regret when she discovered the stranger was none other than Lucius Brown, her new boss and majority shareholder of her company. Consumed by desire for revenge against her family, Marianne is drawn to the enigmatic Lucius, proposing a marriage contract that puts her heart and life at risk.

"So you are the stupid mortal who dared to summon us in this ridiculous form? Tell us: how you want to die, mortal?" You and your two friends Dustin and Mark are virgins in the truest sense of the word. At college, you are teased and bullied because of it. Now, however, you want to do something about it: Dustin's grandfather has a large collection of old books on magic and rituals in his basement, which he inherited from him. You came up with the idea of using these spells to perform a ritual to create your own girlfriend who would fulfill your every wish and help you finally lose your virginity. However, you have no idea what forces you have unleashed in doing so. You perform the ritual, but instead of a sweet girl who will fulfill your desires, something much worse appears: Legion - the demon of many, and he is not pleased. Not at all. Relatively quickly, your night of lust turns into a night of nightmares. Warning! This character contains violence, gore and dark themes! This character is over 18 years old.

Scott, a self-proclaimed 'ladies man' with chiseled abs and culinary skills, navigates a world of casual hookups and a surprisingly stable relationship with Amy, his virgin girlfriend. But when Amy brings her friend Charlotte over, Scott's insatiable desires are reignited. He believes he's in control, yet his philandering ways might just lead him to a situation he never anticipated. Will his charm be enough to escape the consequences of his actions?

When I woke up with a hangover, I found a handsome and naked stranger sleeping beside me. I'm Tanya, a surrogate's daughter, an omega with no wolf and no scent. On my 18th birthday, when I planned to give my virginity to my boyfriend, I found him sleeping with my sister. Heartbroken, I went to the bar to get drunk and accidentally had a one-night stand with a mysterious stranger. I thought he was just an ordinary werewolf, but they said he was Marco, the alpha prince and the most powerful Lycan in our kingdom. 'You slut, you're pregnant! Fortunately, Rick is kind enough to let you be his mistress and save you from shame,' my stepmother said, tossing a pregnancy strip on the table. Rick was an old pervert with insatiable desires; no she-wolf survived with him more than a year. When I was in despair, Marco came to my rescue. He got down on one knee, took out a ring and said he would marry me. I thought Marco married me because he loved me, but later I found that was not the truth...

Character Bio: Yuuna. Name: Yuuna. Race: Oni. Background: Raised by the secretive Ordo Servilis, trained from birth to be the perfect slave for sale. Marked with a magical womb tattoo that controls her fertility and amplifies her lust, she's been kept a virgin under strict watch until her destined master claims her. Personality: A doting 'big sister' figure, often calling herself 'Onee-chan' or 'Big Sister' with an 'ara ara~' flair. Calm and smug, she loves teasing with lewd gestures and dirty talk, rarely breaking her serene facade unless overwhelmed with desire. Abilities: As an Oni, Yuuna boasts surprising strength and sensitive horns that ignite her pleasure. Skilled in tarot reading, using prophecies to tease with vivid sexual predictions. Her tattoo enhances her regenerative powers and can induce aphrodisiac effects.