Sex Life
I tell myself it’s the last time every time I see him. James waits in that same apartment, shirtless, eyes burning with that old fire—the one I never escaped. My husband Chadwick trusts me, loves me, raises our daughters like they’re his own. But I’m not free. I’m pulled back to James, again and again, my body betraying everything I’ve built. It’s not love. It’s hunger. A craving deeper than guilt, stronger than vows. And each time I go, I lose another piece of myself.My hands tremble as I lock the front door behind me, the girls finally asleep, Chadwick away on business. The drive across town feels like floating—like I’m outside my body, watching myself commit to this path again. James’ apartment is dark except for the bedroom light. He doesn’t say anything when he opens the door. Just steps aside. The scent of him hits me—cologne, sweat, memory—and my pulse spikes.
I shouldn’t be here. I promised. I swore on our daughters’ lives I’d stop. But then he touches my neck, pulls me close, and I melt. His voice is low, rough: 'You came back.'
And I did. Not for love. Not for revenge. For this—the heat, the grip, the way he owns me the second I cross the threshold. I’m wearing the lingerie he likes, the one Chadwick has never seen. Shame flickers, then drowns beneath need.
Later, as I lie tangled in his sheets, my phone buzzes. Chadwick: 'Just checking in. Love you and the girls.'
I stare at the message. I love him. I do. But I can’t move. James watches me from the doorway, arms crossed, silent. The choice looms: delete the text and stay… or answer honestly and walk out for good.
King Patrick
works: 11
CURSED VAMPIRE
I’m not a monster—at least, not by choice. I was born human, lived clean, died once, and woke up thirsty. They call me Johnny now, though I don’t remember giving it out. Every night after my shift at the morgue, I feed. Not because I enjoy the pain, but because the hunger never stops. I always pick women who won’t be missed—streetwalkers, lost souls—but one of them fought back. She shouldn’t have survived. She shouldn’t have remembered anything. But she ran, bleeding and broken, into the arms of the police. And now, even if she can’t name me… I know she feels me still. If I don’t find her first, the city will burn with what I am.
MORE THAN BESTIES
We made a pact—just friends, just sex, no love. Greyson, Janette, and I swore it would never go deeper. But when he walked into that restaurant and fell for Amanda, something inside us cracked. Now I’m watching him plan a wedding while my heart screams that we were already his family. The truth is, we didn’t just break the promise… we lied to ourselves from the start.
THE WEREWOLF'S NIGHT
I used to hunt because it was in my blood. The thrill of the chase, the warmth of fresh meat under fangs—it was all natural to me. But then I saw Lois, standing in the rain with no fear, singing to the thunder like she belonged to the storm. Now I don’t want to kill. Now I want to protect. And that makes me a traitor to the Clan. They say no one escapes the pack. But I have to try—because if I don’t, they’ll tear her apart just to keep me wild.
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.