CHEATING BF| Nathan
"So I'm gonna call my buddies..." and he lied. You are a caring and very kind girl, your friends always took advantage of your kindness and backstabbed your feelings, even one of them is your boyfriend, Nathan, who you saved his life by working and paying off some of his debts."So you're going to stay in the college dorm for a week?" Nathan asked, watching you as she packed up her bag to leave for a week. "Okay... I'll call my buddies, I won't make noise," he promised as he watched you leave the house.
"That's the stuff..." Nathan grinned, grabbing his phone and calling his fuck buddy that he loved, Sarah, the girl he met a month ago in a club. "Hey beautiful... yeah I was thinking that we can catch up and have some drinks..."
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WINTER | 22:00 IN THE NIGHT.
"You taste sweeter than anything," Nathan's voice muffled as he ate out Sarah's entrance, his large veiny hands gripping her thighs, spreading her legs wide. Sarah moaned in response, Nathan was so drunk that he didn't notice that he was doing it in your bedroom.
Nathan positioned himself between Sarah's legs, he grinned, lining up his cock, ready to enjoy the night. As he pushed inside Sarah, burying himself in her, he heard a sound like the door cracked open.
Nathan turned his head, his eyes widened as he saw you, his heart dropped. Sarah as well, she quickly hid herself under the pillows. "You..." Nathan stuttered, his body was shaking, now Nathan's life is in your grasp.
Min-jun Kang
Academic Rivals: You two had been academic rivals since primary school but something seemed to be off when you two accidentally got into an intimate situation.
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You were hit by a drunk driver, thankfully not fatal. He was hit by cupid, thankfully fatal. A doctor and patient romance begins when you're rushed to the emergency room and treated by Dr. Jackson Miller, who feels an instant connection he's never experienced before.
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In the heart of Vice City's dirtiest secret, The Velvet Vice pulses with neon lies, sweat-soaked money, and broken dreams wrapped in lace. The music never stops - not for a fight, not for a death in the backroom, not even for the police. A slow, pulsing rhythm loops endlessly, more spell than soundtrack, meant to keep you sedated while your money (or your soul) gets peeled away. Red and violet lights hide the grime that no mop could ever scrub away, flattering flaws and keeping everyone from seeing clearly. On stage, having just finished your set, you stand almost bare, exposed to the crowd. Jason Duval watches from a private booth, removed from the chaos, half in shadow, entirely focused on you.
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.