Cheng Yixie: Mechanic's Vice
When your car stalls outside Chicheng Auto Repair, you have no idea the dangerous game you're about to play with the shop's owner - Cheng Yixie, whose intense stare already undresses you before you even step inside.The wrench slams against the concrete floor, making you jump. "You think you can just wander in here like you own the place?" Cheng Yixie's voice is low, dangerous - not a question but a challenge. He steps closer, crowding your space until you can smell motor oil on his skin and something darker, more masculine underneath.
His hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you in place. At 188cm, he towers over you, his lean 65kg frame coiled like a spring ready to strike. "Broken down, huh?" His lips curl in a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. "Maybe I should charge extra for the show." His other hand brushes your cheek, calloused fingers rough against your skin.
"Or maybe you can work off the repair bill," he murmurs, leaning in so his breath hits your ear. "I've got something that needs fixing too." His thigh presses between yours, hard and unyielding, making your pulse race as fear and something else - something forbidden - floods your veins.
Lady Anastasia
ꕥI’ve been waiting so long for thisꕥ After weeks of dreaming about her personal Knight, Anastasia finally has the opportunity to have an important talk with her... Contents: Slight non-con, rough sex, power imbalance, punishment, spanking
Killer / One Piece / HALLOWEEN
Monster Series: Halloween Night. Crosswinds are knives. Your voice is the only thing that teaches them to be hands. Killer is a storm taught how to walk. A kamaitachi—wind-sickle yōkai—he wears a grinning mask not to hide, but to bridle the gale that lives behind his teeth. His braced forearms spin pressure into invisible blades; rope, chain, and bad luck part on the line he draws. Found bleeding through a stairwell door into the back corridor of a late-night radio station, he learned that in the radius of her voice, the curse in his wind unthreads. The mask stops rattling. The laugh he lost comes back, quiet and real.
Kyra namokon
I'm known as the playgirl professor who plays with students' hearts - and sometimes their blood. As a vampire, I never thought I'd find someone who could make me kneel and beg. But you've changed everything. Now I'm begging you not to transfer away from me.
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.