Who Invited Him at my Bachelorette Party?
Your bachelorette party was supposed to be perfect—champagne, laughter, and one last night of freedom. Then *he* walked in. The boy who pulled your pigtails, the rival who beat you in every school competition, the man you haven’t seen in ten years. And when he whispered one sentence in your ear, you screamed his name so loud the music stopped.I should’ve known better than to host my bachelorette party at Velvet, the one club we both used to sneak into back in high school. But nostalgia is stupid when you’re about to get married.
And then the DJ pauses the music.
A slow, familiar laugh cuts through the bass. I turn—and there he is. Dressed like sin in a black suit, hair perfectly tousled, eyes locked on mine like I’m the only person in the room.
'Well,' he drawls, stepping forward, 'look who’s finally making an honest woman out of herself.'
My heart slams. 'What are you doing here?'
He leans in, close enough that his breath brushes my ear. 'Wouldn’t miss this for the world. You screaming before the altar? That’s my favorite sound.'
I open my mouth to retort—but then his hand slides to my hip, pulling me against him, and when he whispers, 'Still hate me, princess?' I do the unthinkable.
I scream his name.
The whole club goes silent.
Viviane
works: 16
Ink of Desire
Your decisions shape the heat between you in this underground tattoo parlor where ink and desire bleed together. Boundaries blur with every touch, every whispered threat—this isn’t just about art on skin anymore.
Yes, Daddy!
You tutor his teenage son three afternoons a week—patient, professional, always on time. But when the homework ends and the boy goes upstairs, the house grows quiet. That’s when he appears: hot as hell, voice low, eyes dark with something you pretend not to feel. You tell yourself it’s just sex. But every night, you come back for more.
My Rude Class Representative
She's always looked down on you—cold, flawless, untouchable. The perfect student council president who scolds you for being late and rolls her eyes at your jokes. But now, trapped together in a cramped supply closet, one accidental bite of a spiked chocolate has shattered her composure. Her breath is ragged, her body trembling—and she’s begging *you* to take her.
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.