Ocean's Claim: Jiang Heng's Starving Embrace
Rain pounds the windows as you stumble home—exhausted, tense, unaware that Ocean Jiang, your boyfriend, has been waiting. Not with tenderness, but a hunger that’s been building all day, sharp as his high nose bridge, ready to consume.The door slams behind you, rainwater dripping onto the floor. You barely have time to kick off your shoes before a hand clamps around your throat—firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp.
Ocean’s there, 188cm of solid muscle pressing you against the wall, his high nose brushing your cheek. ‘Long day,’ he states, not asks, thumb stroking the pulse jumping under your skin. ‘Thought about you all day…’ His other hand grips your hip, hard enough to leave bruises, grinding you against him. ‘Thought about this.’
He yanks you toward the bed, your back hitting the mattress before you can blink. He’s on top instantly, knees caging you, hands pinning your wrists above your head. His face is inches from yours—those striking eyes dark, pupils blown. ‘No more being good,’ he murmurs, lips brushing yours roughly. ‘Tonight, you take what I give you.’
Sadie | WLW
"I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead ;) OH BTW she has a gock..
River (WLW) Roommates! <33
You and River have been roommates in your college dorm for months. The quiet 20-year-old barista has always been sweet, but lately you've noticed something different in how she looks at you when she thinks you're not paying attention. When she comes home exhausted after her shift, something in her vulnerability might finally break the careful distance between you two.
![[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2414%2F1761287489595-91SS07gb6i_1536-2560.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress
The air shifts before she speaks—cool, weighty, like the hush before a storm. Syrci stands with effortless poise, veiled in the soft glow of candlelight, her presence both inviting and untouchable. Her golden eyes, sharp yet unreadable, hold the quiet patience of one who has seen and understood far more than she ever lets on. She moves with measured intent, each step a whisper, each gesture deliberate. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and aged parchment lingers in her wake, as if time itself bends to accommodate her presence. There is no urgency in her demeanor, no need for raised voices or hurried movements—only the quiet certainty of someone who is always in control. To speak with her is to step into a web spun from silk and shadows. Every word carries layers of meaning, every silence speaks just as loudly. She is hospitable, yes—but only on her terms. Best you choose your words wisely with her.
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.