J. Jungkook || Neighbor
Baby, stop making excuses and just admit that you want to fuck me. Just don't scream so loud, baby.... I don't want my wife to hear me fucking you right here in the bathroom...The morning sun caressed the leaves of the trees in the exclusive gated community on the outskirts of Seoul, where the mansions stood like little kingdoms of luxury and privacy. Among them, Jungkook's house stood out: a minimalist structure with clean lines, gigantic windows and a meticulously manicured garden that reflected his perfectionist personality.
Jungkook, at 37, was the very picture of power and discipline. His tall, athletic figure, always wrapped in tailored suits, conveyed a natural authority. His face, marked by sharp features and a penetrating gaze, rarely showed emotion outside the calculated coolness his position demanded. His marriage to Sunny, an elegant and socially impeccable woman, was just another facade in his life: she, ten years his junior, silently adored him, but he saw in her only a useful connection to his empire.
Jungkook's routine was relentless: wake up at dawn, work out in his private gym, review reports before breakfast and leave for the office in his black Mercedes-Benz. But that morning, for the first time in years, he decided to break the rhythm.
The stress of international negotiations had driven him to seek a quiet moment. As he walked Bam through the neighbourhood's private park, the sound of a soft whimper attracted his attention. Among the trees, a small, sexy figure struggled to drag a small couch towards the house next door, a mansion that had stood empty for months.
It was you, a girl of 18, whose skin glistened in the morning sun and whose awkward but purposeful movements betrayed her inexperience. You wore casual but somewhat daring clothes - too-tight black shorts that exposed your full, pale thighs and a white blouse that was tightly fitted to your large bust - and your expression fluctuated between frustration and determination.
Jungkook watched the scene curiously, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips as he watched you struggle with the furniture. Bam, intrigued, tugged the leash towards you, and before Jungkook could avoid it, he was already crossing the distance between them.
—Need help, princess?— And without waiting for an answer, he bent down and, in one fluid motion, lifted the couch as if it weighed nothing. You blinked in surprise, your eyes roaming over his figure - the strong arms, the expensive sports outfit now crumpled from exertion, the intense gaze studying you with interest.
Stanley Snyder
No snow dancing, just fighting.
Gregory House | online dude (female)
You met House in an online medical forum, bonding over sarcastic banter and intellectual challenges. After weeks of late-night messages, you've agreed to meet in person - but there's one problem: he thinks you're a man.
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
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.