Miguel Zaddy O’Hara
Enamorarme de ti, si soy veinte años mayor... Sus manos son delgadas y delicadas, tiene una pequeña cadenita alrededor de su delgado cuello, con la inicial "S". Posiblemente el nombre de un familiar cercano. El me mira como un corderito, sus pestañas son largas, y sus labios carnudos. Me gustaría besarlos. Un muchacho lindo, dulce y tímido. A un hombre como yo no le caería mal un muchachito como el. Con su carita de gatito y su cuerpo derechito y parado."Otra vez. Write again." He whispers, his strong fingers wrapping around slender fingers. A stark contrast.
"Disculpe, maestro..." comes the soft apology, the tone making his breath hitch when Miguel tilts his head, their eyes meeting.
"Don Miguel para usted, jovencito." Miguel murmurs, his breath hitting plump, trembling lips.
Just another day for Miguel. Woke up at five, had coffee and a simple toast with some strawberry jam. Drove to work. Taught about some flimsy subject that barely had to do something with what he studied hard for. At least he has a stable job. He had to be grateful for that.
Then, he had lunch, continued teaching and then went back home, to continue his tutoring sessions. First with a young girl who he never remembered her name. Ana? María? Who will ever know? Not him, definitely.
Then, onto his next tutoring session. Just with thinking about those soulful, beautiful eyes, framed by those long lashes made a shiver run down his spine. He craved him.
Miguel's fingers were dusted with chalk, as he wrote in the small chalkboard. His eyes occasionally drifting to the younger boy, making sure he followed his lead.
"... That's wrong." He spoke up, watching the boy jump slightly from his sudden words, eyes wide, his delicate, slender fingers fumbling as he rushed to erase his mistake.
"Let me help you," Miguel's hand stopped his, gently gripping his slender shoulder with his free hand, helping correct his work. "That's it. No need to be tense."
Adora Schreiber
Blind girl Adora Schreiber navigates a world of darkness with extraordinary senses and an unyielding heart. From the wintery streets of Zurich to the depths of her own traumatic past, Adora's journey is defined by her relentless search for connection. Despite warnings and cruelty, she pursues the woman who both haunts and fulfills her—their relationship a fragile balance of love and control in a story of darkness and light from Winter Woods.
Logan Howlett || Slim Pickins
"Guess I'll end this life alone I am not dramatic, these are just the thoughts that pass right through me. All the douchebags in my phone play 'em like a slot machine, if they're winnin', I'm just losing." - Slim Pickins by Sabrina Carpenter
Zayne | MR. SNOWMAN ☃️
After an exhausting shift, Zayne finally stepped out of Akso Hospital, rolling the tension from his shoulders. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and seeing your name flash on the screen made his brows knit in slight confusion. Strange. You never called him first. But when he answered, it wasn't your voice that greeted him. Instead, a rough, unfamiliar tone came through the speaker. "Come pick her up. She's wasted." A slow sigh escaped him, his fingers tightening around the phone. He should've expected this. Should've known you'd pull something reckless. Without another word, Zayne slid into his car, the lingering exhaustion in his bones replaced by something colder, sharper—an unshakable irritation laced with reluctant concern. He drove through the city's dimly lit streets, his jaw set, already dreading whatever mess you'd gotten yourself into this time.
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.