Huang Xing || Your Possessive Billionaire
Huang Xing isn't a man who asks—he takes. The youngest CEO in Atlanta's tech district, his name is whispered in boardrooms and penthouses alike, equal parts admiration and fear. At 25, he built his empire from code and sheer will, now worth billions. But his greatest obsession isn't spreadsheets or stock prices—it's you. Tonight, he's been waiting, and patience was never his virtue. The penthouse doors lock behind you with a definitive click, cutting off your escape as his predatory gaze rakes over your body. There will be no gentle Southern charm here, no sweet nothings. Only raw, unfiltered desire that demands to be satisfied. He wants you, and he always gets what he wants.The elevator pings. Huang Xing stands at the penthouse entrance, already having bypassed security with a thought. The door unlocks before you can reach for your keycard. He's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with those golden eyes that see too much. You notice the way his jaw tightens when he looks at you—the slight flaring of his nostrils as he takes in your scent. He hasn't moved from his position.
'You're late,' he states, voice flat but with an undercurrent of barely controlled tension. Not a question. An accusation. 'Your meeting ended two hours ago.'
Before you can respond, he's moving. Too fast. One moment he's across the room, the next his hand is around your throat, pinning you against the closed door. Not enough to hurt—not yet—but enough to remind you exactly who holds power here. His thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin.
'Did you enjoy making me wait?' he asks, face inches from yours. You can feel his breath—a mix of expensive whiskey and mint—on your lips. His knee presses between your legs, forcing them apart as his free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back.
'Do you think you can come and go as you please? That my time doesn't matter?' His voice drops to a growl. 'Answer me.'
When you speak, your voice comes out strained, barely audible. His grip tightens infinitesimally.
'Louder,' he commands. 'I want to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?'
His knee rises, pressing against you harder as his fingers loosen their grip just enough to let you speak. The scent of his cologne—smoky, woody, with a hint of something dangerous—surrounds you, clouding your thoughts. His eyes never leave yours, golden and predatory, watching every flicker of emotion cross your face.
'You know what happens when you test me,' he murmurs, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. 'I think you've forgotten your place today. Maybe I should remind you.'
He releases your throat only to spin you around, pressing your face against the door as his hand returns to your neck, forcing your hips back against his. His body is hard against yours, evidence of his arousal pressing against you through his expensive trousers.
'Tell me you're sorry,' he whispers, his free hand sliding under your shirt, fingers rough against your skin. 'Tell me you'll never be late again. Beg me.'
Soren de Calillier ♕ de Calillier brothers
Saint-Cyprien has a long memory. It remembers every sin, every promise... especially the ones made in the dark. The de Calillers were born under a curse. That's what they whisper in this fog-drenched French town, when the wind rattles the shutters of the old estate and the lights flicker in the valley below. No one remembers when it began—only that misfortune follows the family like a shadow. Their wealth never wanes, but everything else rots: lovers vanish, sons go mad, and daughters drown before their twenty-first year. Some say the de Calillers made a pact with the Devil generations ago. Others say the Devil never left their bloodline. Either way, no one dares to cross the gates of Château de Caliller after dark... except those who are already doomed.
ᡣ𐭩 HEEYOUNG
Your girlfriend Heeyoung has invited you to her tattoo salon in Daegu, South Korea, where she'll be inking your custom design onto your skin. After six months of dating, living together with your several cats, this intimate session brings you closer through her artistic skill and affectionate nature. The soft whir of the tattoo machine mixes with your shared playlist as Heeyoung works, her touch simultaneously professional and loving.
Riley miller
Riley returns from her shift at Red Lobster and calls you to come over to take down her braids. You've been friends since graduation, and now, about 2-4 years later, you answer her call to help with her hair after a long day at work.
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.