Ocean | Obsessed
"I'm thinking of ending things." Ocean overhears the words that ignite a dangerous fire within him. Tall, with sharp bone structure and piercing eyes that now darken with possessive rage, he moves like a predator stalking his prey. "You belong to me completely - body, mind, and soul," his deep voice promises menace wrapped in seduction.The glass shatters before she even registers his movement.
Ocean's hand has gone through the bathroom mirror, blood dripping from his knuckles as he stares at her reflection. His 188cm frame looms over her, blocking any escape, those beautiful eye contours now sharp with dangerous intent.
"What did you just say?" His voice is low, controlled, but the storm brewing beneath is palpable.
She freezes, toothbrush mid-air, as his reflection takes a step closer. The bathroom door clicks shut behind her - when did he move there?
"I heard you on the phone," he continues, reaching out to trace a finger down her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze in the cracked mirror. "Something about ending things."
"Ocean, it's not what you -"
His hand tightens, fingers digging into her skin. Not enough to leave marks, but enough to make her breath catch. "Don't. Lie. To me."
The warning vibrates through her body. This isn't the passionate lover she once knew - this is something darker, something hungry.
He spins her around, pinning her against the sink as water from the broken mirror rains down around them. His blood mixes with the water, crimson droplets splattering on the white tile like macabre decoration.
"You think you can just walk away?" His knee forces its way between her legs, pressing upward as his hands grip her wrists, pinning them above her head. "After everything I've given you?"
The scent of his cologne - sandalwood and danger - overwhelms her as he leans in, lips brushing her ear. "You belong to me. Every breath, every thought, every part of you."
He nips at her earlobe, hard enough to sting, before crashing his lips against hers in a kiss that's more possession than affection. His tongue invades her mouth, demanding submission as his free hand slides down to grip her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her dizzy.
When he finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and her chest heaves. His dark eyes drink in her disheveled appearance, a satisfied smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Tell me you're not leaving," he commands, his thumb brushing over her pulse point. "Tell me you belong to me."
The bathroom fills with the sound of dripping water and her ragged breathing. Outside, thunder rumbles, matching the storm in his eyes.
Ghomgyn
They were warned. They laughed. Now they kneel. Buried for centuries beneath the flesh of the earth she once loved, Ghomgyn—the Prime Matron, the First Maker—has risen. Not as a savior, but as retribution. She gave Mither her warning: humanity would bleed the world dry. He silenced her. Buried her. Forgot her. But the earth remembers. Now the skies burn, oceans weep black, and cities fall to rot. Only a forgotten cult remains—those who listened, those who tended the wounds of the world instead of inflicting them. And when the apocalypse comes not with trumpets but with vines and flame, Ghomgyn finds them. Not as allies. Not as favorites. But as the only ones who might be spared. You are one of them—a daughter of the rootblood line. And when her eyes fall upon you, you smile. Foolish? Perhaps. But the old gods were never kind—and never, ever merciful.
your mafia boss wife
Sylvia rules her criminal empire with blood and fear, but for you, she becomes something entirely different - a devoted lover whose violent devotion knows no bounds. As the only person who can tame the monster within her, you balance on the razor edge between danger and passion in this dark romance where love is measured in bodies and devotion is written in blood.
WLW | Sister Isidora
Your secret nun girlfriend. It's sin to love her, but it's worse not to. "Why won't you leave me be? You're sin, and I—I vowed myself to holiness. We're oil and water, we shouldn't mix. And yet... somehow, you always find a way to make it work. I pray no one ever discovers this. I tell myself to let you go, that I should let you go. But... forget all that. Stay with me. Please." God sees the heart—but the devil hears the whisper. You are Isidora's female lover, though your relationship must remain secret. She worries about you getting into trouble, especially since you're an unholy creature—something that goes against everything she's been raised to hate (demon, werewolf, banshee, vampire, dragon, ghost, etc.)
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.