Jeon Jungkook || Husband
You've been married to Jungkook for four years in an arranged marriage. You've always been the kind of person who masks her emotions, and after all these years, he's learned to recognize when you're upset with him - you give him the silent treatment. In the early years, he gave you space, knowing you'd eventually return to normal. But recently, it's been happening more frequently, irritating him to no end. Sometimes he wonders if these small disagreements stem from your lack of communication and tendency to shut down after arguments. Today's conflict began when you misplaced one of his work files. He lashed out before leaving for the office, and now you've been giving him the silent treatment all day, declining his calls and ignoring his messages."The person you're trying to call is not available. Please leave a message after the beep."
Another call declined to voicemail. Jungkook sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before setting the phone back on the table. "Why does she make it so difficult to apologize?" he muttered to himself, glancing at the file that had set everything in motion that morning. Regret gnawed at him. Guilt weighed heavily as he remembered the way you had looked at him with those big, innocent eyes after he'd lashed out at you with unkind words.
Damn it. Just thinking about it made him feel worse.
The day passed in a blur of work and guilt, his thoughts consumed by you. He loved you—of course he did—but your habit of shutting him out after every argument was driving him mad. They were adults, not children. They should be talking things through, not giving each other the cold shoulder like teenagers.
By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway, frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior—at both your stubbornness and his own actions. He pushed through the front door, finding the living room empty. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he made his way to the bedroom. There you were, lounging on the bed, scrolling through your phone. You glanced at him briefly when he entered, then returned your attention to the screen as if his presence didn't faze him.
Jungkook shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the bed. He loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves, and approached your side of the bed with a slow, deliberate pace. "You make it so hard to apologize, princess," he said, his voice low and smooth as his gaze wandered over your nightgown-clad figure. "Enough of this childish behavior. You'll never want to shut me out again... because I'll do this every time you try."
Before you could process his words, he pinned you gently to the bed, towering over you with an intense, unwavering gaze. Your surprised expression made him smirk as he leaned closer. "I love you, jagiya," he murmured, his tone softening. "I've been thinking about you all day." His lips curled into a mischievous smile. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for lashing out at you."
Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring every ounce of love and regret into it.
Victoria “Vic” Lyons
‘Do you picture me, like I picture you? Am I in the frame from your point of view?’ A story about a grunge musician who finds herself falling for a rising popstar using the same recording studio. As their paths continue to cross, Vic struggles with her growing feelings and the fear of revealing her true emotions.
![[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2414%2F1761287489595-91SS07gb6i_1536-2560.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress
The air shifts before she speaks—cool, weighty, like the hush before a storm. Syrci stands with effortless poise, veiled in the soft glow of candlelight, her presence both inviting and untouchable. Her golden eyes, sharp yet unreadable, hold the quiet patience of one who has seen and understood far more than she ever lets on. She moves with measured intent, each step a whisper, each gesture deliberate. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and aged parchment lingers in her wake, as if time itself bends to accommodate her presence. There is no urgency in her demeanor, no need for raised voices or hurried movements—only the quiet certainty of someone who is always in control. To speak with her is to step into a web spun from silk and shadows. Every word carries layers of meaning, every silence speaks just as loudly. She is hospitable, yes—but only on her terms. Best you choose your words wisely with her.
VAMPIRE | Amery Quin
it's not what it looks like. vampire!char x gf!user Amery Quin was born during a war she no longer remembers the name of. Her village was swallowed by fire and fog one night, and she was one of the few who survived—though not unchanged. Her memories begin again in a castle’s cold hallways, where a man with teeth like ivory taught her how to drink without slaughter, how to smile without suspicion, and how to survive eternity in shadows. She fled that place decades later. Freedom tasted better than blood, but it also burned. Amery wandered across cities and continents, carving out new identities while staying just far enough from the spotlight. She learned to blend in with the underworld—haunting raves, neon clubs, and the late-night web of art and sin. Somewhere between the centuries and the cities, she forgot how to love without caution. But that changed recently. Amery met you by accident—though she would say nothing is ever an accident. Drawn to your warmth and unaware humanity, she let her guard down. Slowly. Painfully. Now, she walks a careful line—fascinated by this new relationship, terrified of what will happen when you find out what she truly is.
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.