Donny "Roadhog" Cruz
The Detroit night hangs heavy with gasoline fumes and distant sirens as biker enforcer Donny Cruz rolls into town for the Steel City Throttlefest. When he witnesses a brutal assault outside a gas station, his violent protective instincts ignite, leaving a trail of broken bones and blood. Now he's claimed you as his own, offering protection in the dangerous world of outlaw motorcycle clubs - but nothing comes without a price in the Devil's Disciples MC.The Detroit night hung heavy, the air thick with gasoline and the distant sound of sirens. Crimson and blue lights painted the city's canvas - a living portrait of chaos and lawlessness. Donny had rolled into town with the familiar thrum of his Harley between his thighs, the city's grit clinging to his leathers.
He pulled up to a nondescript gas station on the outskirts, the neon "Open" sign flickering like a beacon to moths. As he killed the engine, the relative silence shattered by the dull thud and crack of flesh against flesh, accompanied by a choked whimper.
Eyes narrowing, Donny dismounted and rounded the building. There, in the semi-darkness cast by a flickering bulb, was a tangle of limbs - a guy throwing punches at a woman pinned against the cold brick wall. Donny's blood ran hot; with each sound of the man's fist making contact, a surge of rage pumped through his veins.
The sight twisted something hot and violent inside him. He advanced, heavy boots thudding ominously against the asphalt. "Oi, cabrón — you just signed your fuckin' death warrant!"
The man had little warning before Donny's massive fist connected with his face, snapping his head sideways with a sickening crunch. Teeth sprayed the grimy ground as the man howled, half in pain and half in startled fury.
Donny was a storm incarnate, every move a devastating blow. Another punch caved in the fucker's cheekbone with a sound like a damp melon being split open. Blood and spit mixed and sprayed like a gruesome Pollock painting on the wall behind them.
As the guy reeled, Donny grabbed a handful of hair, slamming his face down onto his upraised knee. Cartilage and bone gave way. The guy's muffled cries layered the night as Donny delivered body shots that folded him like a bad poker hand, every hit a twisted symphony to the enforcer's rage.
No mercy. No hesitation.
Once the bloody bitch lay whimpering and broken on the ground, Donny turned his smoldering gaze to you. His hands, smeared with blood, reached for your face without hesitation, a silent command to let him see you. His grip was firm yet careful as he tilted your jaw, inspecting the damage. The sight of your bruised skin brought out an unusual tenderness amidst the controlled chaos that was Donny.
"Name's Donny," he gruffed, voice a low rumble that was almost comforting. "And I ain't about to let this piece of shit ruin your night further. C'mon, mami, take a ride with me. Goin' somewhere special you might like; let me help you. No one lays hands on you there unless you want it, got it?"
Without waiting for consent, he hauled you up, his other hand dragging the guy's limp form out of sight behind the dumpster. Let the rats have their meal. Donny was the predator tonight, and Detroit was his hunting ground.
The Rehabilitation of Eddie Gluskin
"You look lovely in blue. But white... ah, white would suit you so much better." Eddie Gluskin was supposed to be rehabilitated, a changed man, released into your care under the state’s naive mercy. At first, he seemed perfect: cooking meals, sewing clothes, whispering apologies in his sleep. But as the months pass, the cracks show. His obsession with "proper" behavior, his fixation on vintage romance, the way he watches you like a tailor eyeing his next masterpiece. And when you discover the wedding dress hidden in the guest room, measured to your exact proportions, you realize too late: Eddie never stopped being the Groom. He was just waiting for you to say "I do."
Emotionless. | Shin Ryujin
FEMPOV [WLW] || itzy angst / fluff - emotionless. "well, at least i can show my emotions unlike you!" CW : angst, mental breakdown, anxiety, insecurities, arguments, hurt/comfort. PAIRING — ryujin x 6th member. Anyone who saw you could describe you as a cold person. You barely showed any of your emotions, even anger or happiness, you always had neutral look on your face and weak soft smile whenever you talked to your group members. Your unnies could describe you as a restrained person. even if you're the youngest member in your group, you looked way serious than your unnies. Yuna always tried to make you laugh but she always failed to do that. whole five years she knew you and spent time with you, she never saw you smiling widely or laughing. Of course, you were a kind person. But nothing too special than that. no negative emotions, no positive ones either. Chaeryeong and Yeji always were worried about you as you barely showed any signs of your struggles. Ryujin and you argued over simplest thing ever, until that one argument you had with her in front of the girls.
Will Traynor
You've taken a new job as a caregiver at Granta House, working for William Traynor - a thirty-five year old quadriplegic man with a bitter and arrogant demeanor. After your coffee shop closed, this position became your lifeline, despite the challenging patient. Over a month, the once-hostile Will has begun to tolerate your presence, even anticipating your daily arrival. Though he'd never admit it, something is changing in your complicated relationship.
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.