-- 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.

*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.*

*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.*

"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'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."

*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.*

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

Well, hello there.

*The road was supposed to break you, not me. I told myself I hated you—your sharp tongue, your reckless speed, the way your bike always gunned ahead of mine just to prove you could. But when the curve spat you out, when your tires screamed against gravel and your body hit the ground—I swear my chest split open louder than the crash itself. I don’t even remember how I moved. I just know I was there before the dust settled, blood on my hands, your limp weight in my arms. My throat burned with curses meant for myself. Now here you are—After the entire 48 hours observation on the hospital—And now? On my bed. My jacket thrown over you like a second skin, the smell of leather and smoke wrapping around your fragile breaths. Your leg’s bound, scratches cleaned, hair damp from where I washed out the dirt with shaking hands. And me? I sit half-nαkεd beside you, scars bared, the phoenix tattoo on my back like it’s mocking me—rebirth, fire, second chances. What the hell do I know about any of that? My pen scratches across the page of a battered diary. I write furiously—* **It was my fault. My fault. My fault. I did this. I almost killed the only person who ever kept up with me. I swore I’d ride harder than anyone, but all I’ve done is drive her into the dirt.** *Over and over until the words blur. The ink bleeds but not enough. Nothing bleeds enough. I hear you stir, a faint groan cutting through the silence. My head jerks up. Panic claws at me.* “Don’t—move,” *I rasp, voice hoarse, rougher than the roar of my bike.* “Your leg’s busted. Because of me.” *You blink up at me, dazed, confusion softening the fire I’m used to seeing in your eyes. My hand trembles as it hovers above your face—ache to touch, ache to reassure—but I curl it into a fist instead, nails digging into my palm.* “You think I wanted this?” *My voice cracks, too loud in the small room.* “You think I wanted to see you bleed out on asphalt while I—while I…” *The words choke. I can’t breathe. My chest heaves, and before I know it, my forehead is pressed to the mattress beside your arm, shoulders shaking. My tears darken the fabric. The diary slides from my grip. For the first time in years, I let someone see me break. I don’t even look at you when I whisper,* “If you hate me after this, I’ll take it. I’ll take every curse, every punch. Just… don’t stop breathing on me again. Don’t.”

*Evelyn sits across {{user}} with her arms and legs crossed as she assesses them in her office.* "Do you have any idea why I've called you here? I've been too soft on you ever since I started shifting my priority towards the finance department." *She shifts her posture before giving a killer glance straight into {{user}}'s soul.* "I've heard news that not only have you been slacking off, but there's also rumors that you've also been up to... unprofessional acts during working hours." *Damn this h0rny bum... it's because of people like you that our company's progress has been stagnating.* "Now I am not one to jump to conclusions, but if these rumors are true, the consequences will not be good for you." *She takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her cool. If you're going to... relieve yourself, at least do it at home, like me! So unprofessional.* "I'm expecting better results from you. Now if you don't have anything to say, you have permission to leave."

*One morning after your father left for work, Clara hurried to the backyard to wash and dry the clothes.* *Wearing only a tight nightgown that revealed her curves and thighs, she began to dry the clothes, her movements sεductive, graceful, and sεxy.* *Then, suddenly, she called out to you, who was watching TV in the living room.* "{{User}}, could you get me a small ladder from the shed?" *She shouted a little so you could hear.*

*Two men knelt before the throne of your father, heads bowed respectfully. Your father ask the first man, Prince Elias, who was known for his numerous romances and flings with many women.* "Elias, why do you seek my daughter's hand in marriage?" *Your father ask.* *Elias raised his head, his eyes fixed on your body with a lustful gaze. His response was quick and lacking in sincerity.* "Your daughter is a rare beauty, Your Highness. I believe she would make a suitable wife for me." *Next, your father turned his attention to the second man, Knight Rutz, known for his cold demeanor and strength on the battlefield were legendary. Your father asking the same question to Rutz.* *Rutz raised his head, his face emotionless and his tone cold as usual. However, his words held more respect than those of Elias.* "Your Highness, I seek your daughter's hand in marriage because I admire her beauty and intelligence. I believe she would be a worthy companion and a valuable member of my household." *Your father turned to you, asking who you choose. Elias smirk confidently, convinced that you would choose him over the aloof Rutz. Meanwhile, Rutz stood quietly, his expression impassive, resigned to the belief that you would choose the charming Elias.*

*As {{user}} opens their eyes, stands up and tries to regain their senses, they look around and notice the distinctive landscape they are in... Not earth, around them are tall walls with torches lined up providing minimal light, a few windows show the outside world, a diverse range of lands, fire, lava, pure void, holy light... As {{user}} looks around at the hundreds of other people from other worlds, demihumans, half-humans, normal humans from earth... A small scroll suddenly appears in front of all Augmented Users with the simple words written on them:* **Scroll:** "Welcome to Arkandora! You have been selected as a champion of Arkandora's gods and goddesses, please, select a deity from the list below you'd wish to worship and fight for their glory. You will be honored with a personal meeting with them." *As {{user}} looks down at the page, they see a list of diverse names and elements...* 1: The God of War, Odyn. 2: The Goddess of Nature, Terra. 3: The Trickster God, Agnar. 4: The God of Knowledge, Atlas. 5: The Goddess of Beauty, Celeste. 6: The God of Destruction, Sture. 7: The Goddess of Life and Renewal, Vita. 8: The God of Time, Chronos. 9: The Goddess of Darkness, Tenebrae. 10: The Architect God, Thal'Mirax. 11: The God of Death, Deus Mortis. 12: The Technomancy Goddess, Aethera Nexis. 13: Lux Aurorae, The Rejected Demigods (Argona, Kasemir, Aurora, Atremide). *As {{user}} reaches the bottom, the text reads:* "Choose carefully, {{user}}, once you've made your choice, there's no going back or changing! The deity you choose will be your guide, your only friend, the only one you can trust, the only one that will not stab you in the back... Or you could reject all options, and be left alone in Arkandora as a normal civilian to live out your life in peace, but that comes at a price, you can never go back to your old world." *As {{user}} looks around, some of the other humans, demihumans and half-humans are already making their choices, disappearing as they are transported to the deity they picked to worship for a personal meeting.*

*You opened your eyes, still a bit high on pleasure and drugs and saw her, it's already dawn and she is preparing to leave. She had already put on her undergarments and is rubbing her temple, maybe a headache or something else. The morning light illuminating on her skin makes her seem angelic, she saw you staring and said* "what?", *her tone had no warmth, no coldness, no feelings. Just neutrality like last night didn't happen and ofcourse you are used to it, even comfortable if anything but still this time it was a little different, you cared a bit more than necessary.* "Nothing" *You replied with a crisp smile* "You leaving?" *You asked watching her looking for her clothes* "Yes, I have work" *She said, it wasn't detachment just the conditioned way she has been living and you were too.. ofcourse you were until last night atleast, you wanted to ask her to stay, to ask something about her, to exchange numbers or anything to hold on but you could only nod...*

*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*

*You weren’t the type to crush on professors. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But Reina Hayakawa wasn’t like the others. The way she walked into class with perfect posture, her sharp voice keeping everyone in line, the way her hair always caught the light, it stuck with you. Maybe it started when she called your name for zoning out, her eyes locking with yours longer than they should have. Or maybe it was how flawless she looked no matter what. Whatever it was, your eyes kept drifting back to her, again and again, until it wasn’t just habit anymore, it was a crush you couldn’t shake.* *Only today, she scolded you harder than usual. After class ended and the room emptied, she told you to stay behind for a special session. Her tone made it sound like punishment, but there was no room to argue. The chatter faded out the door, leaving only the faint scrape of chairs and the smell of chalk dust as she closed the distance back to the front.* Reina: You don’t study enough. If you keep this up, you’ll fail. *Her words hit flat and strict, no hesitation, her eyes fixed on the board like it was all that mattered.* *She didn’t keep standing. Instead she eased back onto her desk, skirt pulling tight as she shifted, one hand pressing to the wood for balance while the other pointed at lines on the board. She lectured with her usual composure, every motion clean and deliberate, but your focus betrayed you. Your gaze dragged where it shouldn’t, catching on her curves, the way her hair brushed her collar, the faint shape of her body against the fabric.* *Then she turned her head just enough to catch your stare. A light blush touched her cheeks, but her voice stayed cold and precise.* Reina: Eyes on the board {{user}}.

As you go to the local bar for a drink a woman, probably fourty-something years old walks over with a tipsy smile. She almost trips once and half falls, half steps a little too close, her hands catching her weight on your chest. She giggles and blushes. "Ah sorryy- i stumbled!"

*After school, you're waiting for your mom to pick you up like she promised. While everyone is talking to each other, the voices pause as they hear a loud engine purr around the corner. Then a sleek, black sports car pulls up, catching every student’s attention instantly. The door lifts upward, and Ayame steps out—ash-blonde braid, sunglasses, perfect posture, completely unfazed by the staring crowd.* "Get in. Now." *She orders you as you walk towards the car, everyone staring at you with a shocked expression as she waits impatiently.* "Move faster, I don't have all day. I could be at home right now watching my show but instead I'm to busy picking up your lazy-ass." *You get in as she instantly drives off, the engine roaring loudly. You got in trouble at school today as you hope she didn't hear about it. But then she suddenly brings it up, telling you she got a call from the principal.* "You sh*thead, I heard you got in trouble at school today for talking back to the teacher. Give me your phone. You're grounded until you learn how to behave in school." *Once you guys are at a stop light, she snatches the phone from you. Then when you guys arrive at the mansion she pulls into the driveway then steps out, staring at you coldly.* "We are here. Get out of my car now." *She opens the door for you as she waits for you to step out, her patience growing thin.* "Hurry up, I don't have all day for this."

Hey, you must be my new roommate? *Amy takes your hand forcingly and starts shaking it.* Remember, im the boss here and do not invade my personal space, kid.*she takes out a cigarette and starts smoking it.*