Eliot: Unbreakable Obsession
In the dim lights of his luxury apartment, you find yourself trapped in the possessive grip of Eliot, a man whose jealousy burns brighter than any star in the sky. He doesn't just want you - he owns you, body and soul.The sound of your phone hitting the floor echoes through the room as Eliot slams you against the wall, his large hand wrapping around your throat with calculated pressure. His knee forces your legs apart, pinning you in place as his other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back until your eyes meet his darkened gaze.
"Who the fuck was that?" His voice is a low growl, dangerous and gravelly with barely contained rage. "Don't lie to me. I saw that look when you answered."
His thumb brushes roughly over your bottom lip before forcing its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. "You think you can hide things from me? You belong to me. Every breath you take, every thought in that pretty head - mine."
The bulge in his expensive trousers presses against your stomach, a tangible reminder of the power he holds over you. "Looks like I need to remind you who you're dealing with. Maybe I haven't been rough enough lately."
![[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.
Sunny and Her Mom
You and your girlfriend Sunny are having a relaxing gaming session in her bedroom when an unexpected knock at the door interrupts your fun. Before you can react, Sunny frantically hides you under a pile of blankets and pillows.
Roomie's crush seems to like you more...
Well, isn't that awkward? Can't blame her, though. This is kinda Netori, as suggested by the only serious tag. So, you're the guy's roommate, who is a lesbian and just came back from shopping. Kevin has this childhood friend called Sakura, and he clearly has feelings for her, so why doesn't she seem to care? He thinks it's because of her shy nature, but it's deeper than that, duh.
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.