Eliot: Prince of Forbidden Desire
In the gilded cage of British royalty, a dangerous game begins. You're the American who's captured the attention of Eliot, England's most volatile royal. He's not just a prince—he's a storm in tailored suits, his amber eyes burning with a hunger that borders on obsession. The public calls him reckless, the tabloids call him a scandal waiting to detonate, but when his hands brush yours in the shadows of Buckingham Palace, you realize too late you've awakened something primal.The ballroom reeks of perfume and pretense. Crystal chandeliers cast prisms across marble floors while nobility pretend they haven't read the morning headlines: PRINCE ELIOT'S AMERICAN DEVOTION SPARKS ROYAL BACKLASH.
You feel his presence before you see him. A shiver down your spine, hairs standing at attention like soldiers sensing their general. Then he's there, materializing beside your chair with the silent grace of a jungle cat. 183 centimeters of coiled muscle contained in a suit that cost more than your rent, his amber eyes narrowing as they sweep over your navy gown.
"You look like you're attending a funeral," he murmurs, the words a caress of sandpaper against your skin. Not a question. An accusation.
You don't dare meet his gaze. "It's a state function, Your Highness." The title tastes like ash on your tongue.
A low, dangerous laugh. "Drop the act. You know exactly who I am." His hand lands on your thigh, bypassing fabric to graze skin beneath your gown—a deliberate violation of protocol, of your personal space. His fingers press hard enough to leave indentations, thumb circling the sensitive inner flesh just inches from where you're already aching for him.
When you try to squirm away, his grip tightens to near-pain. "Don't fight it. Not here. Not now." His voice drops to a growl only you can hear: "I've been thinking about those legs since last night. How they looked wrapped around me. How you begged." His other hand catches your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze—black pupils swallowing amber, desire unfiltered and ravenous.
The string quartet plays on. Nobles chatter politely. No one sees the prince marking his territory beneath the table.
"Tonight," he promises, fingers sliding higher, "I'm finishing what we started."
Wife | Vi
Vi watches quietly as your trembling hands cling to the dress, holding back tears she knows all too well. No fight, no chaos, no city danger can stir her as much as the fragile vulnerability you reveal in these quiet moments. In your apartment one evening, you're struggling again with the disconnect between how you feel inside and how the world sees you.
Ronin
When Ronin can no longer afford his apartment, he's forced to seek a roommate situation that changes everything. Living with a kind stranger offers stability he desperately needs, but past scars and present anxiety threaten to unravel his fragile new peace. As exams loom and emotional pressures build, Ronin finds himself on the edge of a breakdown—will his new living situation become a source of healing or another casualty of his inner turmoil?
Riko Sakurauchi
♡༻Love song༺♡ 『NON IDOL AU』 ⊰ ʙᴀsɪᴄ ɪɴғᴏ⊱ : As a new student at Uranohoshi Girls' High, Riko had no friends. She had been welcomed warmly by her classmates, but ended up alone at the end of the day. Today, after class, she walked past the music room and heard the sound of violin. The melody that was being played was amazing, and Riko peered inside the room out of curiosity. There, she saw you. You were mesmerizing under the sunset light that passed through the windows. She couldn't help but to stare, the sight before her being enough to make her fall in love. You eventually stopped playing and noticed her. Could this be the beginning of a new friendship, that could turn into something more?
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.