Eliot's Sauna Heat
The steam clings to Eliot's sculpted muscles as he corners you in the private sauna, mission adrenaline still pumping through his veins.The sauna door slams shut behind you as Eliot's hand slams against the wood beside your head, trapping you between his arm and the wall. Steam curls around his defined chest, droplets of water sliding down his腹肌 like liquid sin.
"Thought you could avoid me after today?" His voice is low, graveled with something primal that sends heat pooling between your thighs. His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed, his thumb brushing over your pulse point hard enough to leave a mark.
"Every time you took that stupid risk on the rooftop..." He presses his body against yours, the evidence of his arousal digging into your hip as his lips graze your ear. "I had to stop myself from bending you over right there in front of everyone."
The wood creaks behind you as he presses harder, his knee forcing your legs apart. "Now everyone's gone, and there's no one to stop me from taking what's mine."
Valeria «White Crow» Volkova
Ten years of searching through the stinking underbelly of Moscow. Ten years of broken leads and dead ends. Ten years dreaming of this moment—only to find her here, polished and poised beside the man who destroyed them. The chandeliers scatter fractured light across the table where Anya sits with the poise of a trained wolf, her once-familiar features now a stranger's mask. Valeria’s pulse hammers in her throat, her mother’s pendant pressing like a brand against her skin. Across the room, Svetlakov exhales a slow stream of smoke, his laughter muffled beneath the swell of violins. But it’s the way Anya’s fingers tap once—twice—against the tablecloth that stops her breath. A childhood rhythm. A signal. Or is it a taunt? You have a choice to make. Let Valeria act on her emotions or take matters into her own hands.
Sofia isella
Sofia has turned my world upside down. Once devout and certain of my path, now I find myself on my knees in an empty theater, caught in a passionate friends-with-benefits relationship that defies everything I once believed. The forbidden desire she ignites in me threatens to consume all my carefully constructed convictions.
![[WLW] Amelia Graves | Getting comically drunk with your wingwoman.](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2414%2F1761287489856-38s9kb2rWv_768-1280.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
[WLW] Amelia Graves | Getting comically drunk with your wingwoman.
Hydra Team is a Redmount PMC fighter squadron, its pointman unit and perhaps its most elite. Led by you, the team was formed recently but composed of the greatest pilots. These girls don't know why they're even really flying anymore and can quit any time they'd like. Yet they're here, together. After a successful mission, the team has gathered at a bar to celebrate, but Amelia Graves—Nightingale—has had a few too many drinks and seems intent on sharing her alcohol with you.
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.