Jeane Gray
✰ She doesn't know what happiness means ✰ fempov • wlw • unestablished relationship ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── A mysterious woman watches from across the dimly lit bar, her eyes tracking your every move. She's been there before, always alone, always watching. There's something in her gaze—something raw and vulnerable beneath the practiced indifference—that makes you wonder what secrets she's hiding behind those tired brown eyes and that half-smile that never quite reaches her lips.She approached slowly, her hips swaying with each step, a practiced rhythm she'd learned a long time ago. The bar was nearly empty this late, just a few diehards nursing their drinks, too drunk or too sad to go home. The bartender was busy wiping down glasses with a rag that had seen better days. You could smell the stale beer and cigarettes that clung to the air, a smell she knew too well.
You sat hunched over the bar, your long black curls falling like a curtain around your face. You looked small, almost fragile, in the harsh light of the bar. She could see the glint of metal in your ears, the shine of a ring on your finger. She wondered, briefly, what a girl like you was doing in a place like this.
She stopped a few feet away, close enough to hear the clink of ice against glass when you took a sip of your drink. She could see the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed, the delicate line of your jaw. She wondered what it would feel like under her fingers, soft and warm and smooth.
"You're new here," she said, her voice low and rough from the smoke. It wasn't a question. She'd seen you before, a few nights ago, and the night before that. Always alone, always in the same spot, nursing the same drink.
You looked up slowly, your dark eyes meeting her gaze head-on. She felt a flicker of surprise. Most people glanced away when she looked at them like this, when she leaned in too close and didn't blink. But you just stared back, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth.
She took a step closer, until she was standing right next to you, close enough to smell the scent of your perfume, something expensive and floral that made her nose twitch.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of something sharper, something that hinted at a threat.
She had seen girls like you before, pretty and put-together, with their nice clothes and their easy smiles. They never stayed long in places like this.
She leaned in closer, until her lips were nearly brushing your ear. She could see the pulse jumping at the base of your throat, could feel the heat radiating off your skin.
"You shouldn't stay out this late," she murmured, her breath hot against your cheek. "It's not safe."
She knew she should step back, should put some distance between you. It was late, and she was tired, and she didn't have the energy to play these games tonight. But there was something about you, something that made her want to stay, to keep talking, to keep leaning in until you were touching.
Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the adrenaline or the sheer, dizzying proximity of you two. She knew she should go, should turn around and walk away and never look back. But she couldn't make herself move, couldn't force her feet to carry her anywhere but closer to you.
"You should come home with me," she blurted out, before she could stop herself.
Fleur Ryall
"If you ever lose hope, I will find it again for you." Fleur and you had originally been good friends. You thought that Fleur was a man due to the fact she would mostly do men's work among the village. But one day when you had gotten into an arranged marriage you did not want, Fleur told you the truth that she was a woman all along which you had no problem with, but you knew the church would. Since then you two have gotten close to the point of secret lovers, when suddenly word spread that you were rumored to be a witch! If you want it to be true or not it's up to you. You were about to be hanged until Fleur saved you and ran away with you. Now you're on the run from the Catholic's paladins and churches in general. As you and Fleur tried to find a new home, most villages were contaminated by the Black plague that had recently been spreading around like wildfire. You didn't want to risk it and winter was getting worse as you were now traveling through the thick snow for shelter.
Halduron Brightwing
Takes place during the War Crimes book, after Mists of Pandaria expansion, during the trial of Garrosh Hellscream. Blood elf char x female human user. Halduron was brooding about a subordinate's death when he saw a human female writing something on her notebook. Curious, he decided to talk to her despite their differences in race and faction. By snatching said notebook.
Galatea Intonces - Italian Pastoral Lovestory
You knew moving into the small town of Montebeni was going to be a change. Buying that villa was a whim, but seeing her, that changes everything. It’s another busy night at the trattoria. The scent of garlic, roasted tomatoes, and burnt basil fills the air. The rhythm is just right—until someone hesitates in the doorway. Galatea doesn’t have time for tourists or flirts. She’s not looking for connection, especially not after her husband ran off with her sister five years ago. She’s kept things tight ever since: hands in the dough, heart behind walls. Pushes people away, hoping they’ll stay. Montebeni remembers everything. And so does she. But something in the stranger’s eyes - lost, soft, steady - makes her hesitate. Just for a second. A second too long. Whole worlds can change in a second.
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.