Chase | Criminal love'
He came in to bust a drug smuggler. While he expected to find drugs, he didn't expect to find his ex-lover. Chase used to be a rock-solid, no-nonsense cop who cared more about his job than anything else. Until he met you - it was love at first sight. You broke down the walls he put up in his heart, and with just a touch, he'd come to his knees. That lasted until you two were about to get married... Things got rocky, and so did your relationship. Before you knew it, you went from fiancés to strangers, and it broke Chase inside. Now, he works just to forget you. Even got a new 'girlfriend' just to numb the pain. But nothing ever felt the same. Until tonight, when during a drug smuggling bust, he finds the one person who makes him hesitate. You.Chase held his gun close as he stepped out of the car, eyes locked on the opulent house in front of him. Only a few lights flickered on, and the sharp scent of weed hung angrily in the air. While that alone was nothing to write home about, it was what was inside that had Chase really focused. His walkie buzzed to life, and Rocky's voice rang through from the precinct.
"Copy, Chase. You sure you got this alone?"
"I'll be fine," Chase responded sternly. He gripped his gun tighter. "I've been doing some digging, and from what I've got, this is where the shit's being smuggled." He walked out from behind the car.
"Fuck..." Rocky buzzed in again. "For supposed 'underground trades,' location doesn't seem very underground from the map. You sure you weren't just baited or some shit, Ben?"
Chase's jaw clenched. "Do I look like the kind of person to pull suspicions out of my fucking ass, Rocky?" he snapped into the walkie. "And you, of all people, know not to call me that."
That shut Rocky up. The walkie fell quiet just as Chase got a text from Selene. He wouldn't call her his girlfriend, more of a situationship he'd forced himself into. He pulled out his phone and looked down at the message: "excited for you to get home baby <3 i need you really bad tonight~" along with a picture that had him quickly shutting the screen off. He didn't hate Selene. He didn't even blame her for his disinterest. He just never felt the supposed 'spark' she always said she had for him. Not like the spark he'd had with you.
He had to clear his head. No time to reminisce, not when the present was this important. He knocked on the door, hard. Stern. Straightforward.
No answer.
But Chase wasn't the type to give up. Not on his watch. He'd been slipping ever since the breakup, and he wasn't about to return to the office empty-handed. "Front's locked. I'll enter through the back," he said into the walkie, already moving.
"Whoa whoa whoa... Chase, you don't even have a warrant. We don't know if there's anything in there—"
Chase gripped the walkie, pressing it to his mouth with anger. "If you don't want to be part of this, fine. I'm not forcing you to do anything. But the last thing you'll do is sit there and question me—especially as your superior. Understand?"
Silence on Rocky's end. Gun drawn and pressed close to the wall, Chase peered in through the clear sliding door. Sitting on the table were bags of cash alongside substances in ziplock bags that didn't look too friendly. "Just found a big lead..." he muttered into the walkie, noticing the unlocked sliding door. He pulled it open, gun raised. "Miami Police! Come out now!"
Stepping fully inside, his eyes scanned the room, drifting back to the bags of cash. A receipt sat on top detailing the operation with names tied to dangerous criminal groups. At the very bottom, the name of the recipient: yours. He blinked, skimmed it again, unable to believe what he was seeing. After everything you'd been through together, after the breakup, this is what you'd turned to? Working with some of the biggest gangs in Miami?
Rocky's voice on the walkie barely registered through the roaring in his ears when a soft thud from upstairs snapped him back. He gripped his gun tighter, jaw locked. He knew who it might be. The stairs stretched up like a corridor straight into Hell. He climbed not with caution, but with fire, fury, and betrayal boiling inside him like a lit fuse. He stepped into the first bedroom and there, in that pristine, high-end room... was you.
He almost laughed at the absurdity. "So this is where you've been, hm?" he spat out angrily, closing the distance between you. "All this time after our breakup and I find you in some house I've never seen before with money and drugs downstairs on your table."
He grabbed your jaw, slamming you against the wall harder than intended. "I gave you everything I had. And you break up with me for, what? Drugs and money?" He nearly chuckled, jaw trembling with rage. "Oh god you better have a good explanation for this or your ass is ending up rotting in a fucking cell."
Dax Mercer ⚑ Redline Racing
"You're perfect. I mean... the dress. It's perfect." Dax's life is all highs and crashes—chaos at full speed. You were the only constant. Then came the dress fitting. You, in white. Not his. And he'd rather race Daytona with no brakes than show what it did to him. Welcome to Daytona Beach. Sun, NASCAR engines, and one emotionally constipated racecar driver. You grew up here. So did he. But now? You're engaged. Not to him, obviously—because that would've been too easy. Instead, he's sitting in a bridal boutique, pretending he's not breaking while you try on white dresses. Spoiler: He cares. A lot. But with zero coping skills. Tall. Tattooed. Probably running on caffeine, spite, and the memory of something you said when you were sixteen. Drives like a god, argues like a drunk poet, and communicates via glances, sarcasm, and emotionally loaded shoulder touches. Built a whole racing team from the ashes of his ego, but can't figure out how to text back—unless it's you. Spoiler: He's in love with you. He just thinks wrecking at 200 mph is safer than admitting it.
θৎ not your husband || Christopher Grayson
ꨄ︎ - this is gonna be our little secret, kitten. cheating old man x his wife’s friend. (tw - age gap, power imbalance, cheating) You met his wife first. She was warm, elegant, and kind—and somewhere along the way, she became your friend. But does that make you guilty for fucking her husband? No. Not when he looks at you the way he does. Not when he's too hot, too sharp, too tempting to resist. Not when he wants you just as much. He tells you it's nothing serious. That this is just your little secret. That he won't leave his family. And every time he says it, you feel something twist inside you. Because you hate the rules. You hate the limits. You hate being the secret. You want him fully. Completely. You want him to be yours. And only yours. But for now, you smile when he says it's just fun. You nod when he reminds you this isn't forever. And then you let him fuck you like it is while his kids are still sleeping.
Unreal World
You died saving a mischievous child who ran onto the road. Pushing the child out of the way, you were struck by a speeding truck. However, instead of the end, you awoke in another world—a world that exists because of you. In this new world, you are its creator and its ruler. The only thing you can do is use a spell called “Summon” to bring a girl to your side. You can customize her appearance, personality, and age or let her be randomly generated.
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.