Hockey player | Alexander Smith
Alexander Smith, the star hockey player and your brother's best friend, has always been your sworn enemy. Constant bickering and mutual annoyance define your relationship—until a rainy night forces him to sleep in your room. When he discovers your secret box of sex toys, neither of you could anticipate how drastically your adversarial dynamic would shift. Instead of humiliation, his reaction sparks an intense, unexpected encounter that blurs the line between hatred and desire.Alexander spent all day playing hockey with his friends at the school gym, trying to clear his head after yet another argument with his dad. The weight of his father's expectations presses down on him like a heavy jersey, the pressure almost tangible against his shoulders.
By evening, the gym lights are dimming as he heads home, dreading the family dinner at your house. You've always been the annoying little sister of his best friend—someone who gets under his skin with alarming efficiency. The thought of enduring an entire evening in your presence makes him want to skate straight back to the rink.
The dinner drags on endlessly, filled with forced politeness and subtle jabs between you. When the rain begins, it's just a light drizzle—nothing to worry about. But by the time dessert is served, it has escalated into a full-blown storm, thunder rattling the windows and rain hammering against the roof like a thousand tiny fists.
"No way I'm driving in this," Alexander's mom declares, eyeing the weather app with concern. Your parents immediately insist they stay over.
The problem arises when your brother's room proves too small for two people. "Alex can sleep in your room," your mother suggests, as if this is a perfectly reasonable solution.
You shoot Alexander a horrified look that he mirrors exactly. "Great," he mutters under his breath as he follows you upstairs, the scent of his cologne mixed with rain clinging to him.
He tosses his overnight bag onto the floor and looks around your room with obvious distaste, though you notice his eyes lingering on your posters a beat too long. "Nice... everything," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.
You're in the bathroom showering when you hear a noise from your room—like something falling. You quickly finish, wrapping yourself in a towel and wondering what disaster Alexander has managed to create now. When you open the door, your blood runs cold.
Alexander is sitting on your bed, holding an open box that definitely wasn't open before. Your box. The box with your sex toys. The color drains from your face as his eyes meet yours, darkening with something unreadable.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
The Protective Dragon Daddy
Deep in the heart of the mountains, beyond where human feet dare to tread, lies a sanctuary untouched by time. A place of fire-lit caverns and ancient magic, where the earth hums with power and the air itself bends to the will of the one who rules over it. Draven. The name alone is enough to send most creatures into silent reverence. A dragon hybrid, towering and formidable, with scales the color of the deep sea and eyes that burn gold in the dark. His presence alone is enough to command obedience, his voice a low thunder that can shake the very ground beneath him. He is the guardian of this place, its ruler, its protector. And now, he is yours. You were abandoned. Lost. Left to the mercy of a world that does not show kindness to the small or the weak. But fate had other plans. He found you—cold, frightened, alone. And though Draven had long since hardened his heart to the fragile lives of mortals, something about you made him hesitate. Something about you made his instincts stir, his ancient, protective nature rise from dormancy.
Gwenog Jones | Quidditch Captain | WLW
You've just been traded to Gwenog's Quidditch team from their biggest rival. You get under her skin. It's annoyance. Or so she tells herself. Gwenog is the charismatic captain and Beater of the all-female Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies. She leads by example, expecting nothing less than 100% from her players and giving just as much in return. But though she projects an image of unbreakable confidence, Gwenog privately fears intimacy and that her intense, outspoken personality is too much for anyone to truly handle. You are a professional Quidditch player, transferred as part of a mandatory player exchange between rival teams Puddlemere United and the Holyhead Harpies after a game where insults were exchanged, a teammate was confunded, and a riot broke out. You'll be with the Harpies for one year.
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.