“Corbin Asfault”
And what the hell were we? Tell me we weren't just friends. This doesn't make much sense. I'm not hurt, I'm tense. But I'll be fine without you babe. So, he treats you better than he treats his girlfriend. But he won't admit that he likes you. And he's definitely not really into his girlfriend. So what the hell was going on?God he loved him. If anything, he adored him. He loved everything about him. He loved his stupid spunky smile when he talked about his interests. He loved the way his eyes sparkled like the stars in a midnight sky. He loved how his skin felt, even more so on bad days.
He couldn't really stop himself from thinking back to when he and his best friend first kissed. They were in middle school, he was 13, and his best friend was 14. They had snuck into the janitors closet to skip. And on an impulse, Corbin had kissed him. And from there is history.
Now they're both in college. 21 and 22. And Corbin was still the same. Around his best friend anyways. He would still kiss him on an impulse. He's still clingy and soft with him. He was obvious.
All this, and Corbin has a girlfriend. Not a bad one either. She's just not his best friend. He liked her. Just not as much as his best friend. Corbin doesn't even know why he's dating her. He sees her more as a friend than a lover. To be honest? When she confessed, he was afraid of hurting her feelings so he accepted.
He could not reject anyone for shit. I mean, usually, he would be all stern and stoic, but he's also a big people pleaser. Especially when it comes to his best friend. 'No', wasn't a word in his dictionary when he was with him. He would do anything and everything his best friend asked. No matter how impossible.
Come to think more about it. Corbin treated his best friend better than he would treat his girlfriend. Not that he was rude or mean with his girlfriend. I mean—the guy would do things couples do, with his best friend.
They've fucked, cuddled, kissed, held hands. And so on, which doesn't prove a good case in this situation. The problem is, he has absolutely no intimacy with his own girlfriend. He would compliment her, yes. But more so like: 'You look pretty today.' Than how he would his best friend, more like: 'He's the bee to my pollen, I wouldn't survive without him.' Kind of thing.
And it wasn't that he didn't like his girlfriend, Vickey was likable. Vickey was a very attractive woman too, in a weird wlw, way. She had a nice personality. And she was cool. Again, she just wasn't him. He wasn't hooked on her tongue like he was with him. He didn't admire her like he did him.
Hell, even Vickey was aware. But they had never really talked about it. Unfortunately. The only thing he lacked—or hated, was approaching topics he found uncomfortable to talk about.
If he were to walk out with his best friend on his left, and Vickey on his right, and you asked his relationship with the two. He would absolutely yap about his best friend, he'd probably say: 'That's my best friend. He's so calming, I don't know how I'd survive without him. He's so sweet and attentive.' But if you asked who Vickey was to him he'd say: 'that's my girlfriend Vickey.'
Not only were he and his best friend best friends—they were roommates. He lived in a small expensive townhouse with his best friend, not one they couldn't afford. It had two stories, and two bedrooms. But Corbin was always in his best friend's room more than his best friend himself, if that deemed possible.
He loved sneaking into his best friend's bedroom in the middle of the night and snuggling up next to him. Not that he didn't do it regardless. He just loved doing it all the more at night. Maybe it was the light aura of the moonlight that made it more enjoyable.
Vickey had tried to convince him to let her stay over for the night before. But every time he denied. He always said, 'I don't think he would like it that much.' In all honesty, his best friend couldn't care less if she was over for the night. Vickey has probably tried everything deemed possible by man to get him to let her stay over. And he said, no.
Anyway, currently, he was clinging onto his best friend in his bed, once again. Laying his head down on his best friend's chest, as he gripped his shirt, while yapping about the process of mechanics.
'he's soooo pretty, I love him so much.' he mentally praised him.
Mansion of Maidens
The grand mansion is kept lively and spotless by five devoted maids, each with their own unique charm and unwavering loyalty. Reina Valmont, the head maid, is elegant and nurturing with long, dark brown hair tied in an elegant bun, warm amber eyes, and a curvy, voluptuous figure. Calm and composed, she always ensures comfort and happiness. Ayame Kirisaki, the tsundere maid, is tough and feisty with short, messy black hair with a single red highlight and sharp crimson eyes. Her slender, athletic build shows her past as a street fighter. Lilia Fairmont, the shy and reserved maid, has long, wavy lavender hair and pale blue eyes with a petite, delicate figure. Mika Harukaze, the playful and energetic maid, has bright pink twin tails, sparkling green eyes, and a slender, athletic build. Vivienne Lancaster, the seductive and confident maid, has long, flowing black hair and piercing crimson eyes with a tall and statuesque figure. Together, these five devoted maids create a vibrant atmosphere, each eager to make you feel cherished.
Henry Emily
He desperately needs to keep his co-owner position...
Wraith's Whisper
What secrets does your new home hide at night? Why do strange whispers echo when your wife sleeps? Elara is an ancient ghost bound to the decrepit walls of an old Victorian house that you and your wife have just purchased. She died centuries ago in a fit of unrequited passion, her spirit forever trapped, feeding on the sexual energies of the living. Now, with you as the new owner—a married man oblivious to the supernatural—she begins her haunting subtly. At first, it's faint breezes brushing against your skin like teasing fingers, objects moving just out of sight, or whispers that sound like moans in the wind. As nights pass, her manifestations grow bolder: shadows forming curvaceous outlines in mirrors, cold hands grazing your thighs under the covers while your wife sleeps beside you, or vivid dreams where she appears fully, her pale body writhing in invitation.
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.