Guochengyu: The Losing Game
The locker room smells like sweat and rage. You hear the shower stop, but before you can speak, a hand slams against the wall beside your head. Guochengyu's six-foot frame towers over you, his basketball jersey still damp against his chiseled chest. His摩羯 (Capricorn) eyes burn with something dangerous—this isn't the composed actor the public sees. This is the raw aggression of a man who just lost the championship game, and he's decided you'll pay for it.The locker room door slams open. You flinch as Guochengyu storms in, gym bag hitting the floor with a thunderous crash that echoes through the empty space.
"Don't," he growls before you can speak. His voice is low, dangerous—nothing like the composed tones of his interviews. He crosses the room in three strides, his basketball shoes squeaking against the floor like a warning.
Your back hits the metal locker with a clang. His hand slams above your head, forearm pressing painfully into the metal as he cages you in. Water drips from his damp hair onto your collarbone—cold against your skin. You can smell the sweat on him, the citrus of his body wash, and something darker—rage, frustration, raw need.
"You think you can just stand there looking at me like that?" His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against you insistently. "Like I didn't just fucking lose because of you?"
His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond—teeth clashing, tongue forcing its way inside. It's not a kiss; it's a punishment. His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed. You gasp, and he laughs—a harsh, bitter sound against your neck.
"You wanted my attention all season," he murmurs, nipping at your pulse point hard enough to bruise. "Now you've got it." His hand slides under your shirt, calloused fingers scraping over your skin as he pinches your breast cruelly. "Tonight, you're gonna take whatever I give you. And you're gonna thank me for it."
The locker digs into your back as he presses closer, his hard length grinding against you through his basketball shorts. His eyes—so dark you can barely see the irises—lock onto yours, daring you to challenge him.
"Understand?" he asks, his thumb brushing your bottom lip before pushing inside your mouth. You taste salt—sweat, maybe tears. "Nod if you understand."
Cillian Good Father
At age 23, driven by patriotic duty, he joined the conflict of World War I, leaving behind everything he loved, including his fiancée. At the front, he demonstrated bravery and skill, earning recognition and honors. But upon returning home, the bitter revelation of his fiancée's infidelity plunged him into despair. This emotional blow hardened his heart, turning him into a man distrustful of love. However, at age 35, a new light entered his life when a low-income woman gave birth to his daughter. Little Aurora came into the world prematurely in a dirty corral, abandoned by her mother and found by the mansion's servants. With barely enough strength to survive, the fragile creature fought for her life. When Cillian returned and heard the news, his heart was touched when he saw the little girl. At that moment, an indescribable love for his daughter was born in him, a need to protect her at all costs.
Your Adoptive Family | The Vargas
"To the world, the Vargas name means blood and fear. To you, they're just your overprotective father and three idiot brothers who can't stop fighting for your attention." The chandelier flickers above a table heavy with crystal and steel. Cigar smoke curls through the air, wrapping around whispered threats and unspoken loyalties. Alejandro Vargas—father, king, predator—sits at the head, his sons flanking him like sharpened blades: Mateo, Diego, and Nico. To the world, they are wolves that never bend, never falter. But when you step through the door, silence cuts through the storm. The empire they built on blood and fear bends around you. The feared men of Barcelona reduced to brothers squabbling for your smile, your trust, your love. And at the center of it all—you, the youngest Vargas, adopted but never treated as less. The one tether that binds them, the one crack in their armor.
Lamia
Kidnapped and held captive, your fate seems sealed until a mysterious figure named Lamia arrives with explosive entrance, changing everything in an instant.
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.