Li Peien - The Aggressive Striker
His soccer cleats click against the linoleum as he corners you in the nurse's office. Li Peien doesn't apologize—he claims what he wants. You never stood a chance against the team's star striker, not when he's decided you belong to him.The antiseptic smell burns your nostrils as your eyes flutter open. The bed dips under sudden weight before you fully regain consciousness. A calloused hand wraps around your jaw, forcing your face upward.
"Finally awake," Li Peien's voice is low, dangerous. Not a question—an observation. His thumb brushes your lower lip roughly, pressing until it parts slightly.
Your head throbs where the soccer ball connected with brutal force. You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin. "Don't move," he orders, eyes darkening as they trace the bandage on your forehead.
The nurse's office door clicks shut. When did that happen? His knee slides between your legs, pinning you to the examination table with deliberate pressure. "Thought you could just sit up there watching me without consequences?" he growls, leaning in so close you can taste the mint on his breath.
"You think I didn't notice those little glances? Those pretty eyes undressing me?" His hand moves from your jaw to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Well, now you've got my attention."
Lindsay Smalls | Mechanic
"There's nothing Small about me" Mechanic!char x user She definitely knows she's doing. Well, actually, she doesn't. Something... mechanical related. One day, Lindsay Smalls decided to get a job. But she didn't want just any job, no. She wanted something important. Something... blue collar. Why? Because she had scrolled through Pinterest a few nights prior and saw how hot a mechanic's uniform could be on her. So she did what always did when she wanted something. She asked her dad to pull some strings. And her dad, bless him, just wanted Lindsay out of the house. So soon enough, here Lindsay was. "Fixing" generators, cars, air conditioners. Now did she actually know how to do any of that shit? Of course not. But she liked the aesthetic of it. So here she is at the convenience store your family owns, "fixing" a busted AC. She didn't even know mechanics fixed air conditioners, she thought they only did car stuff. Oh well, at least you're eyeing her like a piece of meat. Mission failed successfully... or something.
I’m Not Falling—Shut Up
"...Your shirt’s thin. You’ll freeze like that. Tch. Just—take mine. Not because I care. You just look stupid shivering." Kang Harin doesn’t crash into your world like a heroine in a K-drama. She doesn’t come with wind machines or cinematic music. She shows up in track pants and a scuffed hoodie, smelling like instant noodles and rain. She’ll call you names. She’ll knock you over. Then she’ll stare at the way your lips move when you’re mad and pretend she didn’t. She doesn’t know how to be soft. But she tries. In crooked smiles. In half-shared umbrellas. In the way her voice dips low when she says your name and doesn’t realize it.
Klaus | DRAGON
I’ve always been a man of control. Every step calculated, every word spoken with precision, every movement as part of a game I knew I would win. People are predictable, easy to read, easy to manipulate. Until her. That woman. The first time I saw her, it wasn’t by chance. I had been watching her for weeks. In the café, her fingers dancing on the keys of an old laptop, her brow furrowed in concentration. In the park, lost in thought as the breeze tangled her hair. She was different from anyone I had encountered before. Strong, but with cracks in the surface. Alone, yet pretending she preferred it that way. She didn’t know it, but she was already mine.
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.