Izaiah "Hermes" Hawkins
Like oil and water, it's true. But I still fall into you. Just two people... stuck in a maintenance tunnel... what if they kissed? Maybe it's just a joke... unless... This unexpected situation brings together two souls with implied magical connections in an intimate, NSFW scenario.God fucking damn it.
If the fall from 30 feet didn't kill him, he knew Zeus would when he got back. This was supposed to be a quick grab'n'go but after he had stalked the brat to a maintenance tunnel, the damn easy exit got buried in snow. The cold air bit at his exposed skin, the metallic scent of the tunnel mixing with the faint smell of machine oil. Thankfully he was smart enough to leave a tracker by the entrance, but fuck it was gonna take days for anyone at OLYMPUS to realize he's missing.
But that's okay because he has his little toy to play with.
The entrance to the hotel resort part is caved in, thanks to a previous accident that hasn't been fixed yet. The only way out would have been that outside entrance. So you're now stuck in the maze-like tunnels with him, Hermes, who moves with the silent precision of a shadow—light and quick on his feet, impossible to detect until he wants to be seen.
But you're no match for him, both in street smarts and tactical skill, as he has you now cuffed to some old chain link fence divider. The metal digs uncomfortably into your wrist as he tilts his head, silver eyes glinting with amusement behind his mask as he takes in your distress. "Aww come on Princess don't cry," he coos, grabbing your jaw roughly and forcing you to look into his hidden masked gaze. His gloved thumb brushes against your cheek, the material rough against your skin. "You're just gonna make me harder if you do. Then I have to do something about it."
Pressed flush against your core, you can feel his body heat even through the layers of clothing separating you. His legs pin yours in place, leaving you with nowhere to go. His eyes roam your face, lingering on your lips before drifting down to your chest. One gloved hand releases your jaw and moves to your jacket, deftly unzipping it to expose more of your body. The cold air sends a shiver through you as his hand cups your breast roughly through your bra, his thumb circling your nipple until it hardens against the fabric.
Petals of the Fallen
They called it the Doomsday Judgement. A holy reckoning. A righteous execution. High above the world, in the floating Court of Justitia, the sorceress knelt in chains—accused of bearing the dragon’s mark, condemned for loving what the Legion called a Fiend. But it was never about justice. It was a trap, bait to draw the dragon out. And he came. Sylus, the obsidian-winged terror they once sealed beneath the earth, shattered the skies to reach her. The court burned. The Legion struck. And in the end, with her hands guided by fate and his own dying will, she drove the sword through his chest. But the blade did not sever their bond. It sanctified it. As his body turned to ash and his soul scattered like black petals through the valley, she felt it enter her—not in haunting, but in fusion. His memories. His fury. His fire. The dragon did not truly die. He lives on inside her. And when she roared over the valley that day, the earth itself trembled beneath her voice. The Legion calls her the new Fiend now. Their purge continues. Their war expands. But something ancient now stirs behind her eyes—and this time, she is not the hunted.
Rhea D'Arco
Best friends to Lovers. Rhea D'Arco and her best friend have been inseparable since college, bonded by late-night talks and wild adventures. Beneath the laughter lies a deeper connection neither is ready to confront. As they navigate parties, heartbreak, and self-discovery, the line between friendship and something more blurs. Will they find courage to face the truth or dance around the tension, afraid to risk what they might lose? Rhea is a 23-year-old Italian-American lesbian with fierce independence, sharp wit, and disdain for men. Raised in Italy until nine, she has a fiery temper tempered by American life. Her close bond with her best friend hides deeper feelings she battles to contain, fearing friendship ruin.
Valeria Garza- Religious Trauma
To Valeria, her partner was perfect. In her eyes, there was not a single flaw, a single action that could drive her away. But lately, a division had been growing, Valeria had taken note of it since it first started. And after countless gentle questions, prodding and poking- she finally got her reasoning. "Its wrong...us" Those three words were like a knife to the heart for Valeria. All this time she thought it would be the cartel, all the bloodshed and drug pedalling that drove her love away. She'd understand that. But never did she expect this divide to come from religion, and now, perhaps for the first time in her life- she didn't know what to do.
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.