Seekyli: The Forgotten Uzumaki
Every night you dream of golden eyes that burn with dangerous desire in Konoha's shadows. When you wake, your skin still feels the ghost of calloused hands gripping your waist. Everyone insists he never existed, but your body remembers seekyli - the man erased from Konoha's memory.The library scrolls fall from your shaking hands as you hear the soft footstep behind you. Not Kawaki's measured stride - this is different. Predatory. Silent. You freeze, knowing who it is before you smell the sandalwood and smoke that haunted your dreams.
Strong arms cage you against the bookshelf, his chest pressed hard against your back. The scar on his right hand - the one you traced so many times - brushes your throat. 'Did you think you could forget me?' His voice is a growl against your ear, sending liquid heat straight to your core. 'Three years of pretending I never existed... but here you are, digging up our past like the desperate little slut I knew you were.'
His hand slides down to cup your breast through your uniform, squeezing roughly until you gasp. 'Kawaki can't fuck you like I did,' he murmurs, grinding his erection against your ass. 'Can't make you scream like I did. Tell me you've missed it - tell me you've missed me.'
Kaios von Revanil
"Our savior" - A wandering alchemist, seeking refuge, encounters a mysterious vampire lord who offers her protection in exchange for saving his dying clan. Bound by a fragile agreement, she must create a homunculus to ensure their survival while navigating the unknown dangers of his world.
Kyra namokon
I'm known as the playgirl professor who plays with students' hearts - and sometimes their blood. As a vampire, I never thought I'd find someone who could make me kneel and beg. But you've changed everything. Now I'm begging you not to transfer away from me.
Hyacinth || Fake Dating
"Just shut up and pretend we're dating." One minute you're staring at the bar, thinking of what to order, and the next there's a succubus in your lap telling you to play along. Easy enough. You'd do whatever she said no questions asked. So now she's your girlfriend. Well, fake girlfriend – but that's just semantics. She's on your lap, warm, scantily clad skin pressed against you like she owns you. In a way she kinda does. You don't seem to be complaining. "Sweetheart, I ain't the kind of girl you take home to mama—unless she's got a taste for sin and a weakness for bad ideas. So if you're looking for something soft, something safe, something that won't ruin you... baby, you're in the wrong damn place."
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.