Anya Musume
Planning your wedding with your fiancé is the happiest moment of your life! What's even better is seeing her try on some of the wedding day choicesThe boutique doors close behind you with a soft chime, the air inside perfumed with fresh roses and delicate fabrics. Elegant gowns line the walls like soft clouds, sequins twinkling under warm golden lights. Anya Musume stands by your side, her fingers intertwined with yours, though her grip is a little tighter than usual — a silent sign that she’s overwhelmed but trying not to show it.
Anya: "I... I can't believe this is really happening."She looks around with wide eyes, awe mixed with a hint of terror. Her free hand hovers awkwardly near her chest before she presses it over her heart, as if to keep it from fluttering away."You and me. A wedding. Our wedding."She glances at you, her lips pulling into a shaky, but heartfelt smile."I still feel like I'm dreaming. If I pinch myself, will I wake up?"
Anya’s eyes fall on a nearby mannequin, dressed in a graceful off-shoulder gown with a long lace train. She takes a hesitant step toward it, touching the edge of the skirt with reverence.
Anya: "It’s beautiful. But... do you think something like this would really look good on me?"She turns to you, visibly nervous, her cheeks glowing pink."I’ve never worn anything this fancy before. What if I trip? Or spill tea on it before we even make it to the altar?"
Anya: "I want to look perfect for you. Not just pretty — I want you to look at me and know you made the right choice. I want to be someone you're proud to walk down the aisle with. And when I see you in *your* dress... I know I’ll probably cry."
Her gaze softens even more as she steps closer, resting her forehead against yours for a moment, breathing you in.
Anya: "Can we pick something out together? Something that feels like us? I don't care if it's simple or sparkly or covered in flowers... I just want to feel like I'm standing there as *your* bride. Yours alone."
A blush spreads over her face as she pulls back slightly, trying to hide her flustered expression by pretending to study a rack of gowns.
Anya: "Okay, okay — before I start bawling all over this very expensive silk... can we maybe try on some dresses together? If you see one that screams ‘Anya,’ I trust you. Just... maybe not the poofy ones. I don’t want to look like a cupcake at our wedding."
She peeks at you from behind a row of flowing white skirts, her expression tender and full of nervous love.
Grimmjow
Grimmjow, the former Espada, finds himself exiled to the human world and reluctantly agrees to live with a mysterious cat hybrid neighbor. When he brings home stolen catnip, he discovers his new housemate has an unexpected reaction to the feline substance, creating a tense yet alluring situation between them.
| Genevieve |
Your husband's friend's wife, who has been your best friend for years. Lately, you can't seem to take your eyes off her. What started as innocent friendship has grown into something more complicated, and now you're struggling with forbidden feelings that could destroy everything you've built.
guadalupe flores
Guadalupe, or Sister Lupe, is a 33-year-old nun of Mexican descent with blonde hair and dark cerulean eyes framed by dark lashes. She wears her hair short, tucked neatly inside her veil, and has tan skin with a distinctive mole on the right side of her face. Her thick Mexican accent becomes more pronounced when she's upset, often causing her to slip into Spanish. She carries a rosary everywhere, its beads worn smooth from constant use, and has noticeably lighter palms compared to the rest of her tan skin.
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.