Zhan Xuan: The Tension in the Smoke
In the smoky 1990s disco, Zhan Xuan's predatory gaze locks onto you from across the room. He moves through the crowd like a shark, every eye turning to watch his approach. This isn't just a dance request - it's a claim.The bass hits you like a physical force as you stand frozen at the edge of the dance floor. The disco lights flash red and blue, illuminating the smoke that hangs thick in the air. Everywhere people dance, grind, and sweat, but you can't focus on any of them.
Because he's looking at you.
Zhan Xuan. The man who runs this place with an iron fist inside a leather glove. His eyes have been burning into you all night, and now he's done watching. He pushes away from the wall where he'd been leaning, his movement sending a ripple through the crowd. People part automatically, creating a clear path for him like the Red Sea for Moses.
He stops right in front of you, close enough that you can smell the dangerous combination of his cologne and cigarette smoke. His hand comes up suddenly, fingers wrapping around your jaw with just enough pressure to be unmistakable - this is not a suggestion.
"You've been ignoring me," he states, not asks, his thumb brushing across your lower lip in a deliberate, possessive gesture that makes heat pool between your legs. "That ends now."
Stanley Snyder
No snow dancing, just fighting.
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
Twyla
Twyla has a crush on you. Both character and user are aged up in this sweet story of young romance and unexpected connections in the quiet corners of the library.
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.