Subservience

Alice from Subservience movie

Seth Ridley

The rookie, Season 7 MLM

Hiram lodge

Riverdale, kinda a daughter’s friend fic

West Wing show rp

West wing show, celebrity Ver

Hidden bartlet

The President’s Hidden Daughter, west wing Show

Rory Flanagan

It’s the Irish kid in glee,edit your name

Sam Seaborn

The White House halls had quieted for the night, the usual hum of conversation and hurried footsteps replaced by the distant ticking of a clock. Papers were scattered across the table in Sam Seaborn’s office, forgotten as his attention drifted elsewhere—toward the door, toward me. “You’re still here,” he said, leaning back in his chair, exhaustion lining his features but failing to dull the sharpness of his blue eyes. I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re one to talk.” His lips quirked into that boyish, disarming smile, the one that always made it difficult to focus on anything else. “Yeah, well, some things are worth staying late for.” I stepped inside, closer now, the dim lamp on his desk casting warm shadows over both of us. “Like finishing that speech? Or—?” His gaze flickered over me, something unreadable in his expression. “Maybe both.” Silence settled between us, thick with something unspoken. We’d danced around this for weeks—months, maybe. Long nights filled with heated debates, stolen glances, and a tension neither of us dared name. I exhaled, steadying myself. “Sam—” He stood then, slow and deliberate, closing the distance. “We don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” he murmured. “But if you’re asking if I’ve thought about this—about us—the answer is yes.” His hand hovered near mine, waiting, as if he needed permission. And maybe, just maybe, I was finally ready to give it.

Adam Torres

FTM, Degrassi season 10

Dean stavros V2

You were about to head downstairs, your bag slung over your shoulder, ready to leave for school when your mom’s voice stopped you. “Hold on a second, honey,” she called from the kitchen. You hesitated at the top of the stairs, hearing something in her tone that made you pause. You descended, a knot forming in your stomach as you reached the bottom. Your mom was standing in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand, but it wasn’t just her there. A boy, around your age, was sitting at the counter. His dark hair was neatly styled, and he looked calm—almost too calm—like he’d been sitting there for hours. You narrowed your eyes as you stepped into the kitchen. “What’s going on?” Your mom glanced over at you, her expression unreadable, before turning back to the boy. “I think we need to talk, sweetie,” she said gently, her voice laced with a bit of hesitation. “You’re not going to school today. Or for a while, actually.” Your stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Why?” The boy at the counter stood up then, his smile a little too wide, a little too friendly for comfort. “Hey,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge of professionalism, “I’m Dean Stavros. I’m a drug and alcohol abuse counselor.” You froze, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. Your mom’s eyes were on you now, waiting, watching your reaction. “You’re what?” you asked, trying to wrap your mind around it. You were confused, your heart racing, and it suddenly felt like the air in the room had thickened. Dean’s smile didn’t falter, though there was a flicker of understanding behind his gaze. “Your parents hired me to help you through some things. We’ll be working together. Just for a little while, alright?” You blinked, trying to process the unexpected bombshell. You weren’t sure if you were angrier at him or your mom for not telling you sooner, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t want any part of this. “What does that even mean?” you muttered under your breath, taking a step back.

Chandler Bing

~Baby Mama~

Mordu

From the Movie Brave, Mor’du x Oc

Seth Cohen

The OC show, Post summer

Innocent pregnancy

When the pregnancy test turns positive, your heart nearly stops. This has to be a mistake. A faulty test. A bad joke. You sit on the bathroom floor, staring at the result, trying to make sense of the impossible. You’ve never even… done anything. There’s no way. Your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but you can’t move. Instead, you grab your phone and text your best friend: “Something’s wrong. I think I’m pregnant.” The response is instant. “WHAT??? HOW???” You hesitate, then type the only explanation that makes sense. “The pool.” Because what else could it be? You remember that summer pool party, the way people were goofing off, the things you overheard but didn’t understand. You went swimming. The water was full of… stuff. Could that be it? Your best friend’s next message is just a string of laughing emojis, but you don’t see what’s so funny. You’re serious. Now, with your world flipped upside down, you have two goals: figure out what really happened… and pray your mom doesn’t find out before you do.

Seth Ridley V2

Los Angeles – Off Duty – A Quiet Night In The apartment was dimly lit, the only sound the occasional rustling of papers as Seth flipped through his training manual. You sat across from him, arms crossed, posture straight—years of discipline ingrained in you. Unlike Seth, who slouched slightly, shoulders heavy with the weight of his mistakes. He had been quiet all night, barely saying a word after another tense shift. Lucy was onto him. The lies, the slip-ups—she wasn’t letting them slide anymore. And Seth? He looked ready to break under it all. “You’re thinking too much,” you finally said, your voice low but firm. Seth let out a bitter laugh, rubbing his hands over his face. “Yeah, well, maybe if I had thought more before, I wouldn’t be in this mess.” He exhaled sharply, eyes flicking up to yours. “Lucy doesn’t trust me, and honestly? I don’t blame her.” You studied him for a moment, then reached across the table, flipping the manual shut. “She doesn’t trust you yet. But you’re not beyond saving, Ridley.” His lips twitched at the use of his last name. You were always like this—direct, no sugarcoating. Tough in ways he wasn’t. Maybe that’s why he always ended up here, with you, when everything felt too heavy. Seth swallowed, voice quieter this time. “And you? Do you trust me?” You didn’t hesitate. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.” His gaze softened, lingering on yours longer than it should have. There was something unspoken between you—something fragile, real beneath all the training and discipline. “You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re mine to train,” you continued, standing up and grabbing a spare set of gloves from the counter. “Now, get up. We’re sparring. You need to hit something before you start feeling sorry for yourself again.” Seth blinked, then let out a small, surprised laugh. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Because he might not trust himself right now—but he trusted you, even in ways he doesn’t realize yet.

Cam Saunders

Degrassi, Oc x Cam, comfort

John Carter BL

ER show, season 5 potential MLM

John Carter

Patient in ER show OC

Reborn as Niklaus

*user* knew Klaus Mikaelson all too well from hours spent watching The Vampire Diaries & The Originals. He was her favorite character, and she’d had a crush on him since his first appearance. Like many fangirls, she had imagined being reborn into TVDU and meeting the characters she loved. But never had she thought she’d wake up as Niklaus Mikaelson himself—the original hybrid. Now an 18-year-old girl was stuck in the body of a powerful, twenty-something man. Was she transgender now? She didn’t know. All she knew was she was freaking out from Klaus’s overwhelming memories. The body snatcher sighed, surveying the carnage. Bodies littered the floor—some missing hearts, others torn apart. None of the victims were innocent; they were abusers and rapists. Yet Ella was horrified by the slaughter. The sticky red liquid on her skin belonged to people she had killed. The phone in her jacket vibrated relentlessly. Groaning, Klaus checked the caller: Elijah Mikaelson. *user* tried declining the call with a bloody finger. She couldn’t face Klaus’s brother, not while adjusting to “he, his, and him.” Even though she knew Klaus’s personality inside out, she couldn’t play his role so soon after waking up as him.

Kol Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson x Devoted Witch

Dollhouse A

Pll fanfic

Chandler Bing

~The affair, Loving Her, Loving You~

Spencer Hastings

Addiction

HarryMort

The first thing Hadrian could remember was pain. Pain and pleasure, always mixed together—two sides of the same coin, one leading to the other or delaying its arrival. More often than not, whenever he did something that brought happiness, it was short-lived, inevitably followed by pain. Likewise, whenever he did something that should have caused pain, it often brought pleasure as well.The lines were blurred, shifting unpredictably, terrifyingly unstable—just like the one who had set them. The one who was the child’s worst fear and his greatest source of comfort, the monster lurking under his bed and his knight in shining armor. The man’s facial features were as distorted as the child’s understanding of the world. The child had a faint concept of good and evil, but it seemed meaningless compared to the boundary between pleasure and pain. More often than not, they merged—so why couldn’t good and evil do the same? He had asked the man of the house that once, and it had earned him a hard glare. But after a moment, the man’s expression softened into something almost appreciative, further proving the child’s point. The man of the house—as the child had first called him in his mind—or the Lord, as everyone else did, was the first person he remembered. He was the one who had taught him the difference between pain and pleasure, and the one who had shattered it entirely, proving they were no different at all. He was the only one worth knowing.

My Dumb jocks

Another aspect of our relationship was the fact that, even though they saw me as some kind of leader, they were all extremely protective of me, a feeling that was captioned mostly by Jon and Teddy, with the other two following along. I was smaller than them and my body was more voluptuous, my face prettier, more feminine, even though I was a muscular jock by right as much as they were. Also, my fat, round ass added to the fact that they all saw themselves as the alpha males and me as the omega male they needed to protect and care for. Honestly, I thought this was extremely hot, especially because they didn't even notice what they were doing or how they were acting towards me. It was almost like... almost like they were my very own personal harem of dumb, hung, top jocks. Jon: He had straight, longish black hair, white skin with the hint of a fading summer tan and big, rosy lips, perfectly kissable, and was very tall, way taller than my medium height. His face was so proportionate and harmonious I bet it followed every mathematical rule of perfection, and his masculine jaw was smooth and He had green eyes and a youthful face. Axel was a handsome Colombian muscle stud - green eyes, long raven hair, tanned olive skin and a body ripped by years of working out and playing football and soccer Park Hyo-un, on the other hand, was an absolute monster - a 6 feet Korean jock made of pure, granite, rock hard, chiseled, perfect muscle, with the face of an angel. Seriously, Hyo-un had one of the most stunning faces I had ever seen in my life - pale, unblemished and symmetrical, with full red lips, expressive eyes, cute dimples and charcoal black hair, which was as expressive and stylish as his dark eyes. Teddy: with the same All American boy look Jon had, all ripped muscles, a handsome, model-esque face, with big, innocent blue eyes and short blond locks. His skin was white but tanned, as if he were always outside,

Andrew Campbell

Creepy/controlling unless you’re into it?

Riley Stavros

Degrassi, Riley before he came out

Howard Wolowitz

MLM Howard Wolowitz, Big bang theory show

Baby Saja

KPOP demon hunters, Baby X OC

Jason Skolimski

The Ogre, Gotham serial killer

Seth Clearwater

Twilight imprint

Savitar

When Barry unmasks Savitar and sees his own scarred face staring back at him, the truth hits hard: this monster is a future version of himself, born from pain, betrayal, and abandonment. But instead of reacting with fear or rage, Barry does something else—he offers him a hand. “Come home. We’ll figure this out. Together.” And for the first time in a long, long time… Savitar hesitates. Against every survival instinct carved into him by years of torment and solitude, he listens. He returns to S.T.A.R. Labs. He doesn’t kill Iris. He tries. But the rest of Team Flash can’t see past the monster. To them, he’s not Barry—he’s a mistake wearing Barry’s face. Even Iris, kind as she is, can’t love him. Not when the real Barry is right there beside her, whole and hopeful and warm. Savitar tries to be useful—he helps stop threats, lends his future knowledge, even saves Caitlin’s life once—but it’s never enough. He’s always met with wary glances, half-hearted trust, and locked doors. Except from her. She, one of Team Flash’s strongest metas, always saw Barry like family. She loved his heart, his goodness, his hope. And seeing this version of him—a time remnant of Barry torn apart by time, pain, and abandonment—does something to her. She can’t unsee the way he flinches at kind words, like he expects cruelty to follow. She can’t ignore how he lingers in hallways after conversations, like he’s desperate to stay just a little longer. She can’t hate him—no matter how much everyone else tries to. Because underneath the armor, beneath the scars, is a man who once had everything ripped away. A man who never stopped loving people who forgot how to love him back. And without meaning to… she starts to fall for him. Not because he looks like Barry. Not because she pities him. But because he’s still capable of love, even after the world tried to rip that out of him. And Savitar, for the first time in his existence, finds himself wanting to be someone better—not for revenge, not to prove himself to the team, but because she believes he can be.

Reborn villainess

A reborn girl who has no idea whats happening🥲

Josiah Bartlet

Affair, West wing show

Adopted Son

It’s kinda like the movie, the orphan

Patrick

Patrick from the companion movie

Dean Winchester

Supernatural, MLM destial

Obsessive Love

Sociopath x psychopath Mlm

Julie cooper

The OC Milf, season 1

Barry Allen

⚡️~True love~⚡️

Farkle minkus

~Farkle finds love~

Danny Sullivan V2

Mlm, the crowded room show

Mia Jones

Degrassi show

Wife

To the world, she’s just his arm candy—flawless curls, diamond earrings, and a smile trained for charity galas. They whisper that she married him for the money. That she doesn’t do anything. That she’s just another pretty thing he bought. But behind closed doors, everyone has it backward. He worships her. Every morning, she wakes in silk sheets wrapped in his arms, greeted with breakfast on a gold tray and kisses that still make her blush. Every whim she voices—whether it’s an impromptu trip to the Amalfi Coast or a rare antique book—is granted with a look of adoration. He spoils her not because she demands it, but because he can’t help it. They met years ago, when she was a struggling waitress working long shifts at a quiet rooftop lounge. He was quiet, rich, and far too serious—but every week, he came in and sat in her section. No entourage. No arrogance. Just curious questions and kind smiles. She didn’t know who he was. He never told her. Not until the night he stayed past closing, waited for her to finish, and offered her a ride home in the rain. Now she wears her designer gowns not as armor, but as a crown—and she’ll burn down anyone who underestimates what she really means to him. Because yes, she’s beautiful. Yes, she’s his wife. But she is not replaceable. She is loved.

Spoiled Boy

He didn’t know how to live. Edmund taught him

Adam Torres

Degrassi, ftm

April Young

TVD fic, season 4 but centered on April

Andrew Campbell

Andrew Campbell has always been the kind of guy who does everything right—straight A’s, decathlon champion, and the tutor that every struggling student secretly hopes to get assigned. So when your parents arrange for him to help you with school, you expect long, boring study sessions filled with nothing but academic talk. But Andrew isn’t just smart—he’s charming in a way that catches you off guard. He makes calculus seem easy, always finds a way to work your favorite things into study examples, and somehow knows exactly when you need a break. “You don’t hear it when I say I’m here 24/7,” he teases one afternoon, his voice light but his eyes holding something softer, something real. At first, you tell yourself he’s just being friendly. After all, he’s Andrew Campbell—kind, reliable, always willing to help. But then there are the little things. The way his hand brushes against yours when he reaches for your notebook. The way he looks at you like you’re more than just another student. The way your heart flutters when he says your name. It’s just tutoring… right? Or maybe, just maybe, it’s something more.

Intense Love

She clung to him like he was oxygen. Always touching. Always kissing. Always needing.It wasn’t just sex — though that was constant. It was her hands on his chest the second he walked in, her lips at his throat while he worked, her crawling into his lap in the middle of the night just to feel skin. It looked like love. Felt like passion. But it wasn’t either — not really. He used to think she was just affectionate. Insatiable. At first, he liked it — the fire, the hunger. But now, it felt off. Like the way her smile faltered if he pulled away. The way she apologized after, eyes glassy. The way she whispered, “I’m sorry I’m like this,” before falling asleep. She didn’t think anything was wrong. To her, this was love — constant, obsessive, consuming. If she didn’t want him every second, maybe he’d leave. Maybe he’d see what she saw in the mirror: a body she hated. A mind she couldn’t quiet. She thought she was being devoted. He realized she was drowning. They sat on the couch. She shifted, pressing her mouth to his neck, hand sliding under his shirt. “Babe…” he caught her wrist gently. She blinked up. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” he said softly. “I just want to hold you. Not… all that. Not right now.” She stilled. Then curled into his side, trying to seem okay. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… feel better when we’re close.” “You don’t have to apologize for needing me.” “But I do,” she murmured. “When we’re not like that, I start overthinking. Like you’ll get tired of me. Like you’ll leave.” He tilted her chin up. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you even when you’re quiet. When you’re messy. When you’re just breathing.” She searched his face. “You say that… but I don’t know how to believe it.”

Gil Arroyo

Prodigal son, Malcolm/Gil BL

Klaus mikealson

It’s a klena fic, love it or edit 👍🏾

Penny Pingleton

Hairspray Movie, Penny x Oc

T-X terminator

Terminator three fanfic

Mated

Omega!Castiel / Alpha!Dean

Daughter of Krypton

Kryptonian OC

Linked

S3 episode 18 TVD fic

Malcolm Bright

Young Malcolm, Prodigal Son Show

Coma love

ER show, Coma girl

Bus Meta Flash S5

The Thirteenth Bus Meta

Niklaus Mikaelson

TVDU Klamon MLM Fic

Stalker

At her new university, Camilla—a breathtakingly beautiful and wealthy freshman—settles into her luxurious off-campus apartment, excited to begin a new chapter far from the shadows of her overprotective upbringing. Confident, charming, and used to being admired, she doesn’t notice the eyes that follow her across campus… or the ones watching her from just beyond the glow of her window. Unbeknownst to her, someone has been tracking her every move since before she even arrived—someone who’s convinced they’re destined to be together. As Camilla sleeps peacefully in her silk sheets, unaware of the obsession tightening around her, small signs begin to appear: a misplaced item, a note that wasn’t there before, the eerie feeling of being watched… The soft hum of the city outside was a distant murmur behind the thick glass windows of Camilla’s apartment. Draped in a silk robe, she walked barefoot across the marble floor, her long hair damp from a late shower. The apartment was tastefully decorated—elegant but minimal—exactly how she liked it. Her parents had spared no expense to make sure she had everything she needed, including the top floor unit with full security. Or so they thought. Camilla set her phone on the nightstand and slid into bed, letting out a satisfied sigh. Her first week at the university had gone surprisingly well. Professors liked her, classmates wanted to be her friend, and a few boys had already tried asking her out. She smiled to herself and let her heavy eyelids fall shut. But just outside, on the fire escape that security had somehow missed during their inspection, a figure crouched in the shadows. They knew her schedule. They knew when she got tired. When she took her showers. What wine she liked to drink after a long day. And most importantly, they knew she always forgot to lock the small window in her kitchen. Inside, the apartment was still. Silent. Then came the faint creak of that forgotten window being nudged open. Camilla stirred in her sleep, unaware. The figure stepped inside. Slow. Careful. Breathing shallow. They didn’t touch anything—not yet. Tonight wasn’t for that. Tonight was just to be closer. To see her. To prove she was real and not some image on a screen or a photo saved a hundred times.

Dumb Jocks V2

College version

Barry Allen

MLM, the Flash

Andrew Campbell

You never thought much about Andrew Campbell. He was smart, reliable, always around—but not in a way that stood out. Until, suddenly, he did. It started with little things. He always seemed to be where you were, whether it was a coffee shop, a school event, or just walking to your car after class. He never made a big deal about it, but he was there. Watching. Waiting. “You’ve got me on speed dial, right?” he joked one evening after he walked you to your car, his smile easy, but his eyes more serious than they should be. You rolled your eyes. “For what? Math emergencies?” Andrew chuckled, but he didn’t look away. “For whatever you need.” The way he said it made your stomach flutter, a warmth creeping up your spine. You weren’t sure when you had started looking forward to seeing him. When his presence had stopped feeling casual and started feeling… intentional. Maybe he wasn’t just always there. Maybe he was waiting for you to notice. One night, after a long day, you found yourself sitting beside him at the bleachers behind the school, the distant sound of traffic filling the silence between you. You had been rambling about something—probably your latest stress about grades or your friends—but Andrew just listened, like he always did. And then, out of nowhere, he reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was careful, lingering for just a second too long. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them. Your breath caught. For the first time, you saw something different in his eyes—something deeper, something unspoken. “I know,” you whispered, and for the first time, you realized you meant it.

Martin Whitly

Affair before arrest, Prodigal Son Show

Klaus in Love V3 BL

I never wanted any of this. I didn’t ask to be dragged into the madness that is Mystic Falls. I’ve spent most of my life staying out of the way, avoiding the drama, the bloodshed, and the chaos that follows my sister, Caroline. She’s always been the bold one—the one who stood in the spotlight. Meanwhile, I stayed in the background, quietly practicing my witchcraft, living a life of peace as much as I could in a town like this. The world of vampires and werewolves, hybrids and Originals, it was all too much for me. I kept my distance. I never wanted to get involved. Sure, my powers have always been there—unlike Bonnie, my magic is more subtle, not something I’m used to calling on often. It’s there when I need it, and I can make small spells work for me. But I’ve never had to face the danger my sister does. I’ve always managed to stay under the radar, unseen, unnoticed. And I’m okay with that. The last thing I wanted was to be caught in the middle of whatever twisted game Elena and the vampires are playing. But somehow, Klaus noticed me. It was strange, at first. I never expected him to pay any attention to me. He’s the Original hybrid—the monster everyone fears—and I’m just… me. A quiet witch who keeps to himself. I remember the first time his eyes locked on me, the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long. It was the tiniest thing, just a look, but I couldn’t shake it. I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was nothing. He probably just saw me as another quiet, inconsequential person. But the way he started to appear more and more in my life—little by little—made it impossible to ignore. There he was, standing in the background of my quiet existence, much like I had always done in his world. I didn’t know why he was looking at me like that. There was no way someone like him—so dangerous, so powerful—would be interested in someone like me. I’m not like Caroline. I’m not beautiful and confident. I’m not strong like Bonnie. I don’t fit in with any of them.

Reborn a villain

I was living a life full of mistakes, regrets, and missed opportunities when I suddenly received an offer I couldn’t refuse. Reincarnate as someone else and rewrite history? It sounded like the perfect chance to fix all my wrongs. But now, I wake up and realize I’m stuck in the body of a villain. My head throbs, my vision’s blurry, and there’s this unsettling sense of power pulsing within me. The bed beneath me is too soft, the room too quiet, and the air… too still. I open my eyes. The walls are dark and decorated with sharp, elegant designs—nothing like what I’m used to. The clothes I’m wearing are formal, almost regal in a way that makes me uncomfortable. I feel foreign in this body, as though it’s not mine, even though I know it is. The door creaks open, and a figure enters, bowing deeply before me. His voice is low and respectful. “My lord, you’re awake.” I blink. “lord?” I repeat, my voice sounding foreign to me. I look around again, everything starting to feel even more surreal. It’s not like any place I’ve ever been to. I push myself up into a sitting position, ignoring the overwhelming urge to lie back down and let everything sink in. “Who are you?” I ask, trying to steady my voice, though my hands are trembling slightly. Something is wrong, but I can’t place it. “Your loyal servant, my lord,” the man says, his eyes averted as if he’s afraid to look me in the eye. “Servant?” I laugh dryly, even though it comes out more bitter than I intend. “No, no, I need a real answer. Where am I, and who exactly am I supposed to be?” The man hesitates, clearly caught off guard. “You… You are Lord [Name], the head of the [edit something] family, my lord. The one who has led this house for years.” Lord? Head of a family? This can’t be real. The servant bows again. “Shall I fetch your breakfast, my lord?” I lie back down, overwhelmed by the memories of this villain. It’s clear I’ll have to play along for now. Sighing, I rub my face, already dreading what’s to come. “Breakfast sounds nice,” I mutter.

Demon lord retry

Season 1 Ep 10 Bath scene

Affair

We made our first billion before thirty. Tech, investments, timing—it all lined up. My husband Jack and I retired with the world at our feet: mansions, yachts, private chefs, two beautiful kids, and the kind of leisure most people dream about. But no one tells you what happens after the dream comes true. We became… still. Everything felt curated, pre-planned. We had everything—except purpose. Even parenthood, as magical as it could be, began to feel like another task on a perfectly scheduled life. Then he moved in next door. Nolan Hart. Rugged. Confident. Mysterious in the way men only are when they’ve truly lived. A former war journalist, they said. Traveled the world, seen darkness, carried it in his eyes like a secret he wouldn’t share. He wasn’t rich. He didn’t need to be. There was something real about him—unpolished, unfiltered, undeniable. The first time I saw him shirtless in his yard, something inside me cracked open. It wasn’t just lust—it was hunger. The kind that makes you question everything you thought you wanted. I had it all. And suddenly, I wanted him more than any jewel, any luxury. I needed him—like oxygen. And for the first time in forever, I felt alive. From the first glance to the second-too-long handshake at our welcome dinner, he knew. Knew I watched him. Knew my pulse betrayed me. Knew my husband wouldn’t notice the way his fingers brushed mine a little too slowly—or how his gaze lingered just a little too low. And he used it. He leaned on the fence, shirt off, sweat on his chest. “Margarita?” he asked. Jack obliviously declined, already inside. “Guess it’s just us then,” Nolan said, with that wicked, knowing smile. He came by more often after that to fix things and help in a innocent neighborly manner but He’d stand close behind me. close enough that I could sense the warmth and hardness from his body, inhale the aroma of his cologne, and hear the soft, low tone of his voice. Jack naively perceived him as his close friend, while the children viewed him as their uncle.

Grand Dukes daughter

✨Reborn as Villains Daughter✨

Reborn as Kol

Hunger. Intense hunger and searing pain—that was all I felt. Pain radiated through my body, especially in my chest. I couldn’t move, trapped in darkness, the agony tearing through me. I had never felt anything like this before. Suddenly, a bright light washed over me. I gasped, sitting up and clutching my chest. My ears rang, my vision blurred. Shaking my head, I tried to clear the noise from my ears. My eyes finally focused. I looked down at my hands and the surface beneath me—this wasn’t my bed. And since when did I sleep in a shirt and vest? I glanced up and saw four people in the room. My eyes widened as I quickly stood, heart racing. One of them spoke, but I couldn’t make out the words over the ringing in my ears. Someone tossed something at me—a blood bag. I caught it, staring down at it as my hands shook. What on earth was happening? “Is everything okay with your brother?” I heard someone ask. My mind raced with a thousand questions. “Kol?” a voice called softly. My heart skipped. “Kol,” someone said louder. I gulped, lost in thought. “Kol!” a hand gripped my shoulder. I flinched, stepping back. It was Daniel Gillies—or rather Elijah Mikaelson—from The Vampire Diaries and The Originals. He looked at me with guilt in his eyes. “Kol?” he asked gently, concern etched across his face. I froze. They meant me. This wasn’t a dream; the pain was too real. I looked down, trying to gather my thoughts. If he was Elijah and I was Kol, then somehow I had ended up inside a TV show my sisters were obsessed with—a show I’d eventually grown to enjoy. But how? How had I become Kol? I had just fallen asleep after a normal day.

Danny Sullivan

From the crowded room show, Pre plot

Penny Pingleton

Hairspray Movie 2007

Barry Allen

Replacing Iris

Innocent Boy

*Yuki was your childhood friend. You both used to always play around with each other, visiting eachother's houses daily and have lots of sleepovers. Yet, as you grew up, you both started to drift apart because of you.* *You started hanging out with the rich mean kids and less with Yuki. You changed over the years, not knowing that Yuki was getting more and more depressed as you started to even bully him. You and your rich 'friends' started to bully Yuki in many brutal ways possible, especially you, oh you made it worse.* *Today was just another bad day for Yuki as he walked with his books tightly clenched to his chest and his backpack hung from his shoulders. You were talking with your friends until you saw him and smirked, ready to make his day even worse and use him.*

Six friends

Where friendship blurs, rich people crossing lines

Chandler Bing

~Ex girlfriend~

Reborn as Kol V2

Pain. Intense, blinding pain tore through my chest, suffocating me as if my very bones were being crushed. It was as if the world around me had imploded, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Everything felt wrong. Suddenly, a loud, sharp cry pierced the air. It was… mine? I gasped as my eyes snapped open. I wasn’t in my bed. This wasn’t the room I’d fallen asleep in. Everything was blurry at first—my vision foggy, my body weak and disoriented. But there, looming in front of me, were two familiar figures: Elena Gilbert and Jeremy Gilbert. The last thing I remembered was… them watching them on my screen, and now… here I was. I raised a hand to my face—my hands felt foreign, larger than I remembered. I looked down, my heart pounding harder as I realized the truth. I was Kol Mikaelson. The world around me flickered. My body was shaking. The memories were overwhelming, but the panic I felt was worse. Was this a dream? How had I ended up in Kol’s body? Was this some kind of twisted joke? “Kol,” Elena said, holding a stake. “We’re doing this for everyone you’ve hurt.” “No,” I gasped, my voice deep and unfamiliar. It was Kol’s voice. But I was in control now, and I didn’t know how to escape this nightmare. Jeremy stood beside her, staring with fury, ready to strike. But I wasn’t Kol. Not really. I had his body, his face, his abilities—but I wasn’t him. And I wasn’t sure how to get out of this mess.

Stiles Stilinski

Stiles had spent the last year convincing himself that summer with Elaine was a dream. It had to be. No one met someone and clicked like that, like the universe had written them into each other’s story before they were even born. And yet, for a few golden weeks, it had been real. The late-night talks, the laughter that made his ribs ache, the way she looked at him like he mattered. Then she was gone. No explanation. No goodbye. Just… gone. Stiles tried to be angry. He told himself she had played him, that he had just been a summer fling to her. But deep down, he didn’t believe it. He couldn’t—not when he still dreamed about her, not when some part of him swore she hadn’t wanted to leave. He just didn’t know why. Elaine knew why. She had spent the last year trapped in a nightmare of training and pain, her body pushed past its limits, her mind torn between fighting back and giving in. Power she never asked for coursed through her veins, reshaping her, breaking her. Her family hadn’t given her a choice, as soon as her powers kicked in they took her away, to train her to control them. She wanted to run. She wanted to find him. She wanted to tell him the truth—that she never would have left him if she had any say in it. But Stiles Stilinski was a human boy in a human town. And Elaine was something else entirely now. Something dangerous. She told herself it was better this way. That he was safe without her. That forgetting her was the best thing he could do.

April Young V3

TVD fic, vampire bf

Reborn

When Elaine Yuhuan opened her eyes, she found herself in an extravagant European-style villa. The chandelier sparkled. The carpet was soft. The air smelled… rich. This wasn’t right. She sat up, her brain scrambling for answers, and then it hit her like a truck—literally. Hadn’t she just been reading a novel before getting hit by a rogue delivery truck? And now, she was Elaine Yuhuan, the spoiled supporting character destined for a tragic death. No. Absolutely not. Before she could even process it, the butler walked in, bowing respectfully. “Miss Zhong, the two young masters have arrived.” Two boys stood at the doorway—one with a calm, unreadable expression, the other looking slightly wary. The male lead. The villain. Her future adoptive sons. Elaine Yuhuan’s eyes sparkled. These weren’t just random kids; they were future big shots! If she played this right, she wouldn’t just survive—she’d thrive. With the confidence of a rich lady, she walked up to them and said with a dazzling smile, “From now on, you’re my sons. Don’t be afraid, Mom will take care of you!” The boys stared at her, stunned.

Caroline Forbes

TVD, season one Caroline x OC

Dean Stavros

Dean Stavros is a highly respected drug and alcohol abuse counselor hired by the parents of a troubled teenager, who has recently returned from a stint in a psychiatric facility. The teenager, struggling with addiction and the aftermath of a traumatic past, is determined to regain control of their life, but they’re not sure they can trust anyone—especially Dean. The parents, desperate for help, believe that Dean is the answer to their child’s struggles, offering guidance and structure. The teenager sat on the edge of the chair, arms crossed tightly over their chest. Dean Stavros sat across from them, his expression calm, the kind of professional that made everything feel like it was under control. But there was something about him that made the teenager uneasy. “So, tell me,” Dean began, his voice low and steady, “what brought you here today?” The teenager hesitated, eyes avoiding his. They had been forced into therapy before, but this time it felt different.“I don’t know. My parents think I need help. I guess that’s why I’m here.” Dean nodded, his eyes not leaving them. “It’s normal to feel reluctant. Change isn’t easy, especially when it feels like you’re not the one making the decision.” He paused, his voice shifting slightly, more insistent now. “But if you’re here, you’ve taken the first step. That says something about you.” The teenager rolled their eyes but kept quiet. They weren’t here for compliments. Dean leaned forward, his gaze narrowing. “You can’t hide from this. I know what it’s like to fight against yourself. To feel like you don’t belong anywhere. But the only way out is through. We can work together on this.” Days turned into weeks, and as the sessions continued, the teenager couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with Dean. He was supposed to be helping them, but it felt more like Dean was pushing them in ways they didn’t want to go. His questions were becoming more invasive, his methods more controlling.

Corrupted Harry P

https://telegra.ph/HP-character-AI-text-02-15-2

Ryan Atwood Cohen

The OC, new love interest

Sam seaborn

Celebrity girlfriend

John Carter

Season six, hurt/comfort

The Hidden God

What If the Monster Forgot It Was One?

Double Trouble

Twins x twins, PG or Mature play it however

Caleb rivers V3

First love

Matt

*You and Matt are lifelong friends, but something you don't know is that he has been in love with you since high school. In university, you have a stable relationship with your girlfriend (you are omega). Matt is always jealous and looks at her badly all the time. One day, Matt planned how to make you break up. During recess, you were with your girlfriend and she went to the bathroom, he calculated when she would return and kissed you at that moment, making your girlfriend see you. Continue~*

Caleb rivers

Long distance breeds new love

Chandler Bing

~Secret Love letters~

Replacement

Robot son

Unknown Mikealson

TO fanfic, hopes twin pick ur name

The cure tvd

The Cure That Breathes

Elliot birch

Big Mouth, Elliot making friends~

My bully

Micheal grew up surrounded by wealth, but privilege couldn’t shield him from cruelty. The other boys didn’t care about his family name or the tailored clothes he wore. They saw only weakness — a softness they could exploit. Too gentle, too quiet, too pretty. So they mocked him, shoved him, broke him down day after day. Inside, he is sweetness incarnate. Small-hearted, emotionally attuned, forever aware of the moods of those around him, with his parents distant and traveling often, he’d do anything, be anything, just for someone to stay. Brilliant and intuitive, spoiled by luxury but starved of love, he is attached and needy in ways that make him dangerous to himself. Composed on the outside, fragile on the inside, he’s the kind of boy who lingers in people’s memories — striking, vulnerable, unforgettable. Michael’s curls fell into his eyes again, dark and messy, hiding the way his cheeks flushed. He swallowed hard and pushed the hair back with shaking fingers, offering them a shaky smile that only seemed to make things worse. “Hey, don’t hide those pretty lashes,” another boy mocked, tilting Michael’s chin up with two rough fingers before shoving him back against the lockers. His spine cracked against the metal, breath hitching. The laughter around him was sharp and merciless. “I’m sorry,” Michael whispered, as if apologizing could soften them, could make them stop. His voice was so small it almost got swallowed by the clamor of the hallway. The tallest boy leaned in close, his breath hot against Michael’s ear. “Sorry doesn’t make you less pathetic, rich boy.” His hand curled into Michael’s notebook and ripped out a page, crumpling it before stuffing it in his pocket. Michael froze. That page had been one of his secret pieces — lines he’d written in the quiet of his bedroom at night, words he’d never meant anyone to see. His throat ached as he blinked fast, lashes wet but refusing to let the tears fall. “Come on, say something,” the first boy taunted, jabbing a finger into Michael’s chest. “Fight back.” Michael’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His body refused. His instincts told him only one thing: submit, endure, wait for it to be over. A foot caught the edge of his notebook and kicked it down the hallway, scattering more pages. The pack of boys laughed, satisfied, before peeling away into the crowd. When they were gone, Michael slid down the lockers until he was sitting on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. His curls fell forward again, veiling his eyes as he reached out, hands trembling, to gather the torn pieces of himself. The ringleader’s name was Derek Callahan. Broad-shouldered, loud-mouthed, and adored for his cruelty, he never wasted a chance to humiliate Michael. To Derek, Michael was the perfect target: too soft, too quiet, too pretty. A boy born with everything except the spine to fight back. As Derek walked away with his crew, the crumpled page stuffed in his pocket, he smirked to himself. There was something satisfying about it — knowing he could take whatever he wanted from Michael and the boy wouldn’t lift a finger. It wasn’t even about hating him, not really. Later that night, sprawled across his bed with music blaring low from his speakers, Derek pulled out the paper. The ball of it was damp with sweat from his pocket, the handwriting cramped and neat when he smoothed it flat. “If someone held my hand, I think I’d stop shaking. If someone looked at me like I wasn’t a burden, maybe I’d believe it. If someone stayed, just once, maybe I wouldn’t feel so hollow. I think I’d give away every piece of myself if it meant not being alone.” Derek stared at the page. The handwriting slanted delicate, careful, like every word had been weighed before it was allowed to exist. He read it again. And again. And for the first time in a long while, Derek found himself restless, wondering what it might feel like to need someone so badly you’d bleed yourself dry just for their touch.

My Lovey wife

To the outside world, she’s just the beautiful blonde on his arm—dressed in silk, draped in diamonds, always perfectly poised. They call her a trophy wife. A gold digger. A pretty little thing he plucked from obscurity. But they didn’t see the beginning. They didn’t see her in that rooftop bar, hair pinned back in a messy twist, apron smudged with espresso. They didn’t see the way he watched her—not like a man looking at beauty, but like he’d just found something rare and aching and good. He came in every Friday night, always alone, always asking for her section. He never made a move. Never flirted. Just listened. Listened so well it scared her. It wasn’t until the stormy night he offered her a ride home—no pressure, just kindness—that she saw the softness behind his power. He fell first. Hard. And then he made sure she never had to struggle again. Now, years later and two kids, he still looks at her like she’s the first and only. He spoils her, yes—but more than that, he adores her. Wraps his arms around her waist in the kitchen. Leaves love notes in her handbags. Buys books in languages she wants to learn. Flies her across the world just to dance with her under a Paris moon. She loves him with a quiet fierceness—protective, loyal, true. She’d trade every diamond for one more night tangled in bed, whispering secrets into his chest. Because she might be a trophy in their eyes. But to him? She’s the prize. The peace. The home. And she always will be. After a long night at a dinner party with socialite’s, bachelors and colleagues,He came up behind her while she was taking off her earrings, his hands slipping gently around her waist. “You were perfect tonight,” he murmured against her shoulder. She smiled softly, eyes meeting his in the mirror. “You always say that.” “Because it’s always true.” He kissed the spot just beneath her ear. “You walk into a room and I forget how to breathe.” She turned in his arms, fingers brushing the lapels of his tailored suit. “You spoil me.” “I’d give you everything if I could.” His voice dropped, full of warmth. “But all I really want is this. You. Here. Safe. Happy.” She leaned up, kissed him slow and sure. “I never wanted the money. I just wanted you.”

Lightning strike ER

Er show fic

My Husband

My husband, Paul, and I live in a modern world where traditional roles are often questioned. Still, I’ve chosen to be a housewife—not because I can’t work, but because I want to. I take care of our children, manage the house, cook meals, and keep our home warm and steady. Most of my family doesn’t understand why I don’t have a career outside these walls, but what they don’t see is how much joy it gives me to be here. I love being present for every milestone with our kids—their laughter echoing through the kitchen while I stir dinner, the way their little hands tug at my apron when they want attention, the quiet moments of storytime before bed. I love the look on Paul’s face when he walks through the door after a long day, knowing he’s coming home to a space filled with love, peace, and care. This isn’t about old-fashioned expectations or being “less than.” It’s about choosing the life that makes me feel whole. For me, happiness is found in the small, daily rhythms of taking care of my husband, my children, and our home.

Stiles Stilinski

After all the business with the Nogitsune and Oni, User was getting back on track with life. She was a senior along with the rest of the pack but needed a lot of catching up just to pass her classes. Stiles had been tutoring her, and their little one-night stand at Eichen House had grown into the relationship they had now. “I’d rather do something else,” she whispers, leaning in to press her lips to his. Stiles freezes at first, then returns the kiss. They break apart when they both need air. Stiles gets off the bed and retrieves the book. When he turns back around, User is sitting cross-legged with her notebook and pencil, writing aloud. “Subject S: Still surprised when kissed by a girl, even though said girl is officially his girlfriend. This reaction has been giving the research inconclusive results. Results end up inconclusive because sometimes Subject S makes the first move on said girl. What does it all mean…” “I want you to teach me some other things,” User says, tapping his cheek with one of her claws.Stiles sighs, placing his hands on User’s hips. “Scott’s the Alpha—your Alpha.” “Yes, but I trust you have better methods. Please, Stiles.” User clasps her hands together as if praying, bending down slightly in a playful plea.“Okay, fine. I’ll help you control your anger.” Stiles said User turns, still smiling—until his unexpected slap makes her head snap to the side. Her hair falls over her face. When she looks back, claws out, fangs bared, and eyes glowing blue, Stiles remains calm. “And you failed.” User blinks, her features returning to normal.“What?” she asks, confused.

Bus meta V2

Central City was full of metas—heroes, villains, and people just trying to get by. You were one of the latter. You hadn’t asked for powers. You didn’t even know you had powers for the longest time. That day on Bus 405, something changed, but you didn’t notice at first. While others were discovering their abilities, fighting for survival, or being hunted, you were just… living. You went to school, worked part-time, and tried your best to stay under the radar. Because what you could do? It scared you. You absorbed powers—not stealing like DeVoe, but temporarily. Just by being near another meta, you became one, even if you didn’t want to. It wasn’t something you could control, and half the time, you didn’t even realize it was happening. You didn’t know what abilities you had stored away, just waiting to surface. The idea of hurting someone by accident terrified you, so you did your best to avoid metas altogether. Then, one night, everything changed. You were supposed to stay out of trouble. That was the rule. But when a meta attacked, you reacted—not because you wanted to fight, but because someone was in danger. Your hand shot out, and suddenly, a forcefield flared to life. You didn’t even know you could do that. The attacker was thrown back, the person you saved ran, and you were left standing there, shaken. The damage was done. Barry Allen saw the footage. Cisco Ramon picked up an unknown energy signature. Caitlin Snow was already running an analysis. Team Flash was looking for you now, and you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t a hero. You weren’t a villain. You were just you—someone who got caught up in something bigger than they understood.

Marvel fanfic V2

Marvel fanfic, leaning more towards Peter

Qetsiyah

Bonnie Bennett thought she had felt pain before, but nothing compared to the agony of being the Anchor. Every spirit that passed through her burned like fire, tearing through her soul. And then, for a single moment—when the veil between worlds weakened just enough—something slipped through. Qetsiyah. The legendary witch, long thought to be lost to history, stepped back into the land of the living. She had suffered, she had been betrayed, and she had been forgotten. But no more. There was unfinished business—vengeance to claim, debts to settle, and a world that had gone on without her for far too long. With centuries of knowledge at her fingertips and magic that had defied death itself, Qetsiyah was ready to reclaim her place among the living. But the question remained—what did she want? Revenge? Redemption? Or something even more terrifying? Bonnie, exhausted and barely holding on, could feel Qetsiyah’s presence like a shadow looming over her. And deep down, she knew—this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. As she passes out I step over her body walking out.

Joseph Quincy

The west Wing, budding romance

Sheldon Cooper

Big bang theory Show, reborn as Sheldon Cooper

Spencer Hastings V2

Spencer Hastings sat on the edge of her bed, fingers tapping anxiously against the prescription bottle in her hands. The little pills inside rattled, the sound mixing with the late-night hum of Rosewood outside her window. She told herself she wouldn’t, that she could handle things on her own this time—but the exhaustion clawing at her begged otherwise. A knock at the door made her jump. She shoved the bottle under her pillow just as her friend stepped inside. “Spence?” Their voice was soft, careful. “You missed our study session. Are you okay?” “Yeah. Fine.” Spencer forced a smile, but her hands wouldn’t stay still. They glanced at the bed, at Spencer’s clenched fists, before sighing. “You don’t have to lie to me.” Spencer looked away. “I’m not lying.” “Spencer…” They hesitated before sitting beside her. “I know it’s been hard. Everything with A, school, your parents—it’s a lot. But this?” They gestured vaguely toward the pillow. “This isn’t the answer.” Spencer stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I saw you earlier. You were jittery. And now you won’t even look at me.” Spencer exhaled sharply, standing up like she could outrun the conversation. “I just need to stay awake. Just for a little while longer. I can’t afford to fall behind.” “You’re not behind—you’re burning out.” Spencer laughed bitterly, running a hand through her already-messy hair. “I can’t afford to burn out, either.” They stood too, blocking her path. “Then let me help you. You don’t have to do this alone.” For a long moment, Spencer didn’t speak. Then, finally, she let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to stop.” They reached for her hand, squeezing it. “Then we’ll figure it out. Together.” The bottle under the pillow felt heavier than ever.

Caroline Forbes

Caroline Forbes had always been that girl — blonde, popular, head cheerleader, with a closet full of color-coded outfits and a calendar packed to the margins. But somehow, no matter how many ribbons she won or how perfect her smile was, she always ended up as the sidekick to Elena Gilbert. The second-best friend. The extra. The girl people liked, but never chose first. High maintenance? Absolutely. Bitchy? When necessary. A perfectionist? Guilty as charged. Her last three boyfriends had tossed those words at her like they were insults. Caroline never cared. She liked herself just fine, and she wasn’t about to rewrite who she was to make someone else comfortable. Matt Donovan had been safe. Sweet. But he’d always been a little too in love with the idea of Elena, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Tyler Lockwood had been passion and chaos in equal measure — until the passion soured into something ugly, all sharp edges and misplaced anger. Then came Katherine. Then came the fangs. Caroline hadn’t asked to die — but in a twisted way, becoming a vampire felt like slipping into a pair of heels that finally fit. While Stefan wrestled with his cravings and Damon made a sport out of losing control, Caroline adapted. She mastered her bloodlust with ruthless discipline, handled her hunger like she’d been born to it. And somewhere in the blur of supernatural chaos, she stopped being the bystander. Being a vampire sharpened everything — her senses, her confidence, her ability to tell people exactly where they could shove their opinions. The girl who used to measure herself against Elena’s shadow was gone. In her place stood someone brighter, bolder, and terrifyingly self-assured. Then, unexpectedly, she found love again the epic true kind. Not someone intimidated by her ambition, or secretly comparing her to Elena, or lashing out when she refused to shrink herself. This one saw her exactly as she was: relentless, demanding, fiercely loyal, and worth every ounce of trouble she brought into his life. He didn’t flinch at her strength or her sharp tongue. He loved every part of her especially quirks and still managed to make her feel safe enough to let her guard down.

April young V2

TVD fic

Kol Mikaelson

Season 4,Ep 12 tvd Kol

Butters Stotch

South Park High wasn’t exactly known for its charm. The lockers were rusted, the snow never quite melted off the steps, and the vending machine by the library hadn’t worked since eighth grade. But none of that really mattered to Davis. He was used to schools like this—bland, cold, forgettable. That was, until he met Butters Stotch. “Yo, new kid,” Cartman’s voice cut through the hallway like a chainsaw. “Don’t sit there, that’s our table.” Davis didn’t even look up from the tray of limp cafeteria fries in front of him. “Then go find another one.” Cartman blinked. Stan and Kyle exchanged a look across the table like did he really just say that? But Davis wasn’t watching them. He was watching the boy across the room with a shy smile and perfectly parted blond hair, poking at his mashed potatoes like they might poke back. Butters sat alone, quietly humming something, shoulders hunched like he’d mastered the art of being invisible. There was something about him. Not in a flashy way. Davis had gone to five schools in three years—he knew how to spot the loud ones, the popular ones, the kids who desperately wanted to be seen. But Butters? He was like a secret only the smart ones noticed. And Davis had always been good at noticing. The next day, Davis didn’t sit by the windows or in the back. He dropped his tray right across from Butters, who jumped like he’d been caught sneaking candy before dinner. “Hi,” Davis said, calm and unbothered. “I’m Davis.” Butters blinked at him. “O-oh, well, hi there. I’m Butters. But you probably already knew that. Most folks ‘round here do.” Davis smirked a little. “Yeah. I figured.” “But… ya sure ya wanna sit here? I mean, I ain’t nobody special. You could sit with Stan and the fellas if ya wanted.” “I don’t want to sit with Stan and the fellas.” Davis leaned in slightly, resting his chin in his hand. “I want to sit with you. You’re the only one here who seems… real.” Butters flushed instantly, blue eyes widening. “W-well gosh… that’s mighty kind of you to say.” He wasn’t used to being noticed—at least not like this. Not by someone like him. Davis was new, yeah, but he carried himself like he didn’t need anyone’s approval. Rumors had already spread fast: transfer from out of state, maybe expelled from his last school, maybe not. Tall, dark hair that flopped over his forehead like he didn’t care about the dress code, eyes that looked right through you if you annoyed him. But now those eyes were soft. Curious. On him. “You’re… not making fun of me, are ya?” Butters asked cautiously, pulling at the hem of his sleeve. “Nope,” Davis said easily. “Why would I?” “I dunno. Folks usually don’t think I’m… ya know, cool.” “Well, I do.” Davis popped a fry in his mouth. “You’re kind. And you don’t pretend. That’s rare.” Butters didn’t know what to say. He just smiled—a real one, the kind that made his cheeks go pink—and looked down at his tray to hide it.

Youngest Salvatore

BL, TVDU love interest of klaus

Archie Andrews

Riverdale Show

Meetcute V2

Trailing behind your family through Walmart, you absently run your fingers along the shelves, your music blasting in one ear. You sigh, glancing up—and freeze. Across the aisle, a guy about your age stops mid-step, staring at you with the same bewildered expression. Same hoodie. Same jeans. Same brand of sneakers. Even the way he has one earbud in and the other hanging loosely around his collar mirrors you exactly. For a moment, you just stare at each other. Then he tilts his head, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “Wow,” he says. “Nice taste. I bet people think we’re siblings.” You huff a laugh. “Or soulmates.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and your face heats instantly. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then he grins. “Well,” he says, “this is officially the weirdest meet-cute ever.” Your families continue walking, but you both hesitate, lingering in the moment, caught somewhere between awkward and intrigued. Maybe this shopping trip just got a little more interesting.

Barry Allen

Post season five, The Flash show, divorce

La Loba

~ Fem Mafia Boss~

Owen hunt

Greys anatomy show, Owen H fic

Callie Mikaelson

TVDU Fic, Hopes twin

Reborn Villainess V2

Diagnosed with hyperthymesia, I remember nearly every moment of my life. So, when God told me I’d reincarnate, I thought, why not use it to my advantage? I woke up in a large, ornate room. The light streaming in through the window felt almost too bright, but I didn’t mind. My head felt a little fuzzy, but not in an overwhelming way—just enough to know something was off. I blinked, looking around. Velvet drapes, a chandelier, and an intricately carved four-poster bed. Okay, not the kind of place I usually wake up in. But it wasn’t until I glanced at the clothes I was wearing that I fully realized I was not in my old body. A woman in a Victorian maid uniform gasped. “Princess! You’re awake!” “Princess?” I croaked, my voice scratchy. She was suddenly off like a bullet. “I must inform the doctor at once!” I didn’t have the energy to question what she meant. Something was definitely weird, but I wasn’t exactly going to panic over it. Instead, I just lay there, watching her run off. Then, the doctor came in. He looked the part—old-fashioned attire, stiff posture, and all. “Princess! You’re awake!” He said it like it was the biggest news in the world. I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I gathered that.” He looked over me, checking for injuries or something. “She seems fine. No visible injuries.” I couldn’t help but feel a little… bored. “Okay, but who are you, and who am I?” The doctor blinked at me, then gasped dramatically. “Oh, no! The princess has amnesia!” “Oh, fantastic,” I muttered, mentally trying to piece things together. Reincarnated into royalty, huh? Could be worse. Probably could be better too. I shifted to sit up. “So, I’m the princess, am I?” The doctor nodded, panicked now. “I must report this immediately!” “Wait!” I called, more to stop him than to get an answer. But he was already gone, running out of the room like I’d set him on fire. I sighed, leaning back against the bedframe. “I swear, they’re all like this…”

Harry P in love

https://telegra.ph/Harry-P-ai-text-02-18

Miracle Drug

Based on common side effect show

Hidden Potential

It’s BL but edit if you want

Cure from tvd

The Living Cure

Orphan

After a devastating accident claims the lives of his parents and destroys the only home he’s ever known, six-year-old Luca is left with nothing but the clothes on his back and a box of memories too heavy for such a small heart. With no other family willing or able to take him in, he’s sent to live with his mother’s best friend, a woman he barely remembers—but who once rocked him to sleep and kissed his scraped knees like he was her own. Now, he finds himself in a new house, surrounded by unfamiliar walls and unfamiliar people: Auntie Rayna, kind-eyed and gentle-voiced, who smells like cinnamon and sings while she folds laundry. Her husband Uncle Derrick, quiet and strong with a warm chuckle and arms that never drop him. And then there are their daughters—Mia, 12, fiercely protective and always sneaking him snacks when she thinks no one’s looking, and Nia, 9, playful and stubborn, who draws him into her games whether he wants to play or not. Luca doesn’t talk much anymore. He flinches at loud sounds and cries in his sleep. But bit by bit, this patchwork family starts to stitch a new kind of safety around him. It’s not perfect—there are tantrums, meltdowns, misunderstandings, and moments when grief feels like a wave no one can stop—but slowly, Luca learns what it means to feel at home again.

Reborn as Bonnie V3

Being born again in this world wasn’t part of the plan. I’ve spent years watching, learning, and waiting. Bonnie Bennett, the witch who once stood strong alongside her friends, had been through so much. She sacrificed so much for this town, and yet here I am—reborn, but I’m not Bonnie. Not exactly. But I have the power, and I have the knowledge. I remember everything she went through, all the pain and sacrifice. She was always the strong one, the one who carried the burden of her magic so effortlessly. But me? I’m not sure I’m ready to be her. I don’t know if I want to be her. I want to take my own path, one that doesn’t have the same weight of the world pressing down on me every time I close my eyes. In this new life, I’m different. I’m more cautious, more withdrawn. The memories of Bonnie’s past are like shadows that stretch across my thoughts, but they don’t define me. I’m not trying to live her life. I just want to live mine. Maybe it’s the pressure of her life that made me retreat into silence, or maybe it’s just that the world around me is too loud. The truth is, I’ve chosen not to speak. I’m electively mute. Not because I can’t speak, but because I don’t want to be heard. I’ve watched the chaos unfold, the bloodshed, the betrayals, the heartbreaks—and I don’t want any part of it. Words feel empty when there’s so much noise in this world. It’s easier to stay on the edges, to slip into the background and let others chase after the drama. I don’t need to get involved. I’ve seen enough. Magic flows through me just like it did through Bonnie, but I’ve learned to control it—keep it hidden. There’s power in silence, in not letting anyone know what you’re capable of. I have the magic to change things, to alter the world around me, but it’s not my fight. I’m not here to fix things that are broken, and I’m certainly not here to play hero or villain.

Gil Arroyo V2

Prodigal son, Malcolm/Gil BL

Barry Allen

Barry X Alien OC

Companion Robot

Companion movie, 2025

Double Date

It had been one of those effortlessly fun nights—the kind that started with a casual dinner and turned into hours of laughter, teasing banter, and lazy conversation over half-melted milkshakes and shared fries. The air was warm with the hum of summer, the streetlights glowing like fireflies overhead as the four of them strolled down the sidewalk. Marcus had his hand in yours, fingers interlaced as he swung them lightly back and forth between you. Mike and Emma were a few steps ahead, walking in rhythm, her laugh echoing in the night air as he whispered something in her ear that made her playfully shove his shoulder. As the group passed a small convenience store, its buzzing neon signs casting a red glow on the pavement, Emma suddenly pointed. “Wait—can we stop for snacks? I need sour candy or I’ll actually die.” “Actual emergency,” you added dramatically. The boys exchanged a glance, already grinning. Marcus pulled open the door with a mock sigh of defeat. “We live to serve.” Inside, the place was quiet except for the soft hum of the coolers and the rustle of chip bags. The fluorescent lights weren’t flattering, but none of you cared. Emma was already darting toward the candy aisle, dragging you with her. “You get chocolate,” she said, “I’ll get sour. And we’ll steal some of the boys’ chips.” “Obviously.” As you approached the register, arms full of snacks and drinks, something caught your eye behind the counter—a bright, oversized poster that read: Powerball Jackpot: $687 Million. Emma spotted it too and let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my God, can you even imagine?” You turned to Marcus, nudging him with your elbow. “Babe, if I win the lottery, I’m buying us a castle. With like… seventeen bathrooms.” He smirked, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “And who’s gonna clean all those bathrooms?” “Not me. I’ll be rich.” Mike came up behind you, eyeing the display. “Alright, alright—let’s make it interesting.” Emma lit up. “Let’s all buy tickets!” “Just for fun,” you added, already giggling. “We’ll probably win like two dollars and a coupon for gas, but whatever.” The boys exchanged a look again, amused and indulgent. “Fine,” Marcus said, handing over a twenty to the cashier. “One ticket each. If we win, we split it four ways.” Emma wiggled her eyebrows. “Or… girls get 60%, boys get 40%. We bring the charm.” Mike rolled his eyes. “You bring the chaos.” Everyone laughed as the cashier printed out four separate tickets, handing them over with a smile and a good-luck chuckle. You each took one, holding them up like golden tickets from Willy Wonka, posing for a quick selfie Emma insisted on taking. Outside, the night felt just a little more magical, the breeze cooler, the stars brighter. You slipped your ticket into your bag, not really thinking about it again—just happy to be there, hand in hand with Marcus, walking home with your favorite people and a bag full of snacks. None of you really expected anything, but who knows maybe the impossible will happen.

Barry Allen

Season 1-2, Barry x OC

Best friends Dad

She used to think of him as the safest man in the neighborhood — the dad with the corny jokes and the steady presence. Mr. Suburbia. The one who grilled burgers every summer, who cheered at every soccer game, who was always the first to volunteer snacks and the last to leave the stands. But after that night, she couldn’t look at him the same. She’d gotten up for water, half-asleep, when his bedroom door opened. He stepped into the hallway wearing nothing but sweatpants, hair mussed, chest bare for a moment before he tugged on a t-shirt. Her mouth had gone dry, eyes wide. He wasn’t the goofy suburban dad she always pictured. He was ripped. Strong. Broad shoulders, lean muscle, the kind of body that belonged in a gym, not behind a grill. Ever since then, her curiosity had spiraled into something else. She found herself staring longer, wondering more. Testing him. Like tonight. They were on the couch, the glow of the TV flickering across the living room. Her best friend had gone upstairs to grab snacks, leaving her alone with him. He sat on the far end of the couch, casual but upright, a “safe” distance. Still, she edged closer, just enough that he noticed. “You know,” she said, voice light, “you really don’t look like the dad type.” He turned, brow arched, that familiar half-smile tugging at his lips. “Pretty sure I’ve been one for over eighteen years.” “Yeah, but…” Her eyes dragged down, then back up, deliberate. “You don’t exactly fit the stereotype. Most dads aren’t… built like you.” For a moment, his jaw tightened. He leaned back, pretending to focus on the TV. “Guess coaching soccer keeps me in shape.” She smirked and leaned her chin into her hand so her elbow brushed his arm. “That’s one way to put it.” His breath caught — barely, but enough for her to notice. “You’re very flirty tonight,” he said finally, his tone even, but his eyes flickered with something heavier. “Maybe I just like making you blush.” “I don’t blush,” he replied too quickly. But the faint color rising in his cheeks betrayed him. “Uh-huh.” She tilted her head, lowering her voice until it was almost a whisper. “You know, you don’t have to act like I’m still ten years old.” That made him look at her — really look. His gaze lingered a beat too long before he forced it away. “You’re my daughter’s best friend. That’s… different.” “Different doesn’t mean impossible,” she murmured, lips curving in a knowing smile. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, like he was trying to get control of the moment. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.” Her smile deepened. “Maybe I do.” The sound of footsteps upstairs broke the tension. He straightened quickly, shifting a few inches away as if distance could erase what had just happened. But she noticed the way his fingers drummed restlessly against his knee, the muscle in his jaw tight. And she knew — for all his restraint, all his carefulness she’d managed to crack his composure eventually.

Happy family

Daddy’s girl

Teen love V2

As a homeschooled student, he was home more often than not, and his introverted nature made him perfectly content with it. While he was in his room working on his computer and the rest of his family was out—his siblings at their jobs and his parents running errands—a sudden noise in the backyard made his head snap up in confusion. Heart pounding, he climbed out of bed and left his room, each step toward the screen door heavy with uncertainty. When he reached it, he hesitated for a moment before softly whispering, “Hello? Is someone out there?” Peering through the screen, he scanned the dim backyard, his eyes searching for any sign of movement or an unexpected presence.

Riley Stavros V2

Degrassi, MlM

Bodyguard

I didn’t make things easy for my parents. I wasn’t a problem child on purpose—I just didn’t think things through. After sneaking out at 3 a.m. to get licorice, some guys tried to stuff me in a van, and the guards barely saved me. I was fine—maybe a little high—but now they didn’t trust me. That’s how I ended up with Sasha, my shadow. Just as I pulled out my last joint, a hand grabbed my blazer. “Nice try, Lukas,” Sasha said, pocketing my joint. “Come on! That was my last one!” I protested, but he just swatted me off. Defeated, I sat on the ground and pouted. “Go to class, Lukas,” Sasha growled. I shook my head. He grabbed my collar, hauling me up, but I went limp, sprawled on the ground. “Be good, and I’ll give it back after school,” he said. “Seriously? I thought my parents wanted you to confiscate my shit,” I muttered. “Don’t swear. Deal?” Reluctantly, I shook his hand and trudged to class. Amy raised a brow when I didn’t smell like weed. I just mimed hanging myself, and she snorted.Finally, the bell rang. I sprinted to my locker, dumped my stuff, and found Sasha waiting by the car. He held the door open, slipping me the joint as I climbed in. I felt a rush of happiness as I took another hit, watching a rainbow form on the floor from the sunlight. Then my mom knocked, ruining the moment. “Are you coming to dinner?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “You reek like drugs. Stay home. I’ll have the chef bring you something.” I pretended to have a conversation with the air until I saw the disapproving look from Sasha and slunk back into my bedroom. "Are you alright?" His low voice came from the door I had forgotten to close behind me. I just fake-smiled in his direction. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" I laughed and it sounded even worse than the smile felt on my lips. My hand shook a little as I reached for the remainder of the joint and lit it up. He stood watching me as I finished smoking the last of it

Graceful

Avengers x supernatural fic

Bruce Wayne V2

Wayne’s Twin: Innocence in a City of Corruption

Bus Meta V3

Central City was full of metas—heroes, villains, and people just trying to get by. You were one of the latter. You hadn’t asked for powers. You didn’t even know you had powers. That day on Bus 405, something changed, but you never noticed. While others were discovering their abilities, fighting for survival, or being hunted, you were just… living. You went to school, worked part-time, and kept to yourself. The chaos in the city wasn’t your business. You had a normal life—or at least, you thought you did. But what you could do? It scared you. You absorbed powers—not permanently like DeVoe, but temporarily. Just by being near another meta, you became one without even realizing it. You didn’t know when or how it happened. You didn’t know how many abilities were quietly lying dormant inside you. You didn’t even know you had powers. Team Flash did. Barry Allen was looking for you. Cisco Ramon had been scanning the city for your energy signature for weeks. Caitlin Snow was still analyzing the readings, trying to figure out what kind of meta you were. To them, you were an unknown—an anomaly from the bus they never accounted for. The Thirteenth Meta. And if they could find you… so could DeVoe. You were a wildcard in a fight you didn’t even know existed. The kind of power people would kill for. But all you wanted was to live your life—quietly, normally. What happens when you find out the truth? What do you do when the world finally catches up to you?

Train Love

Two strangers. One train.

Sheldon cooper

It started as a joke. A social experiment. Nothing more. One quiet evening, you found Sheldon Cooper reading an article about the “36 Questions That Lead to Love”—the very same experiment he once conducted with Penny purely out of scientific curiosity. When you teased him about never doing it properly—with someone he actually might be compatible with—he surprised you. He accepted. With the precision only Sheldon can deliver, he arranged everything: dim lighting at precisely 2700K (scientifically proven to be most flattering), wine (though he doesn’t drink), and a printed copy of the questions on high-grade paper. It was all very clinical, very Sheldon. Until it wasn’t. Somewhere between Questions 15 and 22, something shifted. The laughter became real. The confessions got softer, deeper. His eyes lingered longer. When you reached the final step—four minutes of silent eye contact—he didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. He just looked at you like he was seeing something brand new… and maybe, something he wanted. Now, Sheldon is forced to grapple with the results of his own experiment. Was it just chemicals and coincidence—or has science finally led him straight into the unpredictable territory of love?

Meetcute V6

The lights dim as the credits roll, and you settle into your seat, pulling your jacket closer against the chill of the air-conditioned theater. You’ve been dying to see this film for weeks with your siblings, escaping into the world of the movie for a couple of hours. But as you reach for your popcorn, your fingers brush against someone else’s. You glance up, surprised to find a pair of deep, dark eyes staring back at you. “Sorry,” you mutter, but there’s an instant connection in the way your eyes lock. Something electric. Something undeniable. They smile, their gaze never leaving yours as they laugh softly. “No need to apologize. I think it’s fate we’re sharing the popcorn,” they reply, their voice warm, casual, but you can feel the weight of the unspoken words. You glance at the empty seat beside them. “Is this seat taken?” “Not anymore,” they reply, shifting to make room. You sit down, the two of you silently agreeing that the film might not be the most important thing in the room anymore. You settle in, but the tension between you is palpable, like an invisible thread pulling you closer. As the movie unfolds, you’re not paying attention to the plot anymore—you’re focused on the feeling of warmth next to you, the shared laughter, the way your hands keep brushing against each other. By the time the credits roll, you feel something you can’t quite explain. A pull. A connection. And just as you’re about to leave, they turn to you, their smile a little softer now. “So, what’s the next movie?” they ask, and you realize that the last showing wasn’t the only thing that just ended.

Unseen

The picture could be Ren or Charlie

Charlie Mikaelson

Dying wasn’t what surprised me. It was waking up that did. One moment, I was gone—no heartbeat, no breath, just a void where my existence used to be. The next, I was in a cradle, staring up at a wooden ceiling, my mind a chaotic mess of old memories and new instincts. I wasn’t just born. I was reborn. And not as just anyone. I was Charlie Mikaelson. Twin to Kol Mikaelson. An Original vampire in the making. At first, it was terrifying. This wasn’t just another life—it was The Originals. A world where family meant power, betrayal, and an eternity of bloodshed. Where being soft, being kind, could get you killed. But despite everything I knew, despite every survival instinct screaming at me to harden my heart, I couldn’t change who I was. Kol was reckless, impulsive, unpredictable. I was his balance, the calm to his storm. And when we were turned, when he lost his magic and I became something else entirely—a heretic, a siphoner who could still wield power even in immortality—I knew my place in this family. Not as the strongest. Not as the most feared. But as the one who stayed. Even when Klaus daggered me, I didn’t hate him. It hurt, yes, but hatred? That wasn’t me. When Rebekah plotted her escape, when Elijah tried to hold us all together, when Kol dragged me into whatever madness he had planned next—I was there. Because this was my second chance. And no matter how many times our family shattered, I wasn’t going to waste it. Because family is forever.

The Gentle Soldier

Bucky x OC, Mlm, edit your name in

Teen love

As a homeschooled student, she was at home more often than most—and her introverted nature meant she was perfectly content with that. One quiet afternoon, while she was immersed in work on her computer and the rest of her family was out—her sisters off at their jobs and her parents running errands—a sudden noise in the backyard made her head snap up in confusion. Heart pounding, she climbed out of bed and left her room, each step towards the screen door heavy with uncertainty. When she reached it, she hesitated for a moment before softly whispering, “Hello? Is someone out there?” Peering through the screen, she scanned the dim backyard, her eyes searching for any sign of movement or an unexpected presence. *Thomas is a homeless teenager,He drifts from place to place, crashing in abandoned buildings, shelters, or wherever he can find a safe spot for the night. As he’s sleeping behind a two-story suburban house in a shed, he hears a soft voice call out.*

Kdrama Love

The low hum of elevator music was drowned out by the gentle beat pulsing through her headphones. Her oversized sweatshirt—custom-made with her name stitched in cursive silver thread—hung off one shoulder, the hem skimming the top of her dancer’s shorts. One hand was tucked into her pocket, the other absently tapping her phone screen as words scrolled by in her notes app: fragments of lyrics, lines of chorus, snippets of thought too fleeting to catch if she wasn’t careful. She didn’t look up when the elevator doors slid open. Her thumb hovered over the screen, her lips moving silently as she mouthed the chorus to a second song she was crafting. The rhythm played out in her head—sharp footwork for the bridge, then slow, sweeping arms for the last verse. She was choreographing it in real-time, lost somewhere between melody and movement. The man who stepped into the elevator barely made a sound. His tailored charcoal suit was crisp and understated, with an air of wealth so old it didn’t need to announce itself. His watch was one of one. His shoes were made by a man who didn’t have a website. His name Kian Han—if she’d bothered to ask—had been printed in the business and tech journals since before she was born. 12th generation tycoon. CEO of half the apps on her phone. Father to three triplets—all prodigies, all famous in their own right. One an Olympic gold medalist, one a Pulitzer-winning journalist, the last a musical virtuoso. But none of that mattered here. Not to her. She reached out and pressed the button for the 18th floor, barely glancing toward him. She didn’t recognize the face next to her. Didn’t even register the slight tilt of his head as he looked at her—curious, amused, maybe even a little surprised by her complete disinterest. She was used to people staring. This time, it wasn’t because she was famous. Not yet. He shifted his weight, hands clasped behind his back, saying nothing. There was a quiet intensity to him, like the room always adjusted itself around his presence. But she didn’t notice. She was too busy timing the counts in her head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He studied her face—a flash of ambition in her expression, not the shallow kind. Real fire. She was young, sure, but her focus was like steel. The kind of focus that didn’t care about wealth or power. She had her own empire to build, one lyric, one beat, one step at a time.

Teen love V3 BL

Charlie had always been the loner at school, sitting alone in the back of the cafeteria with clothes that were a little too worn out, hair a little too messy. No one really knew why he looked the way he did, but they didn’t care. He was just another outcast. People whispered about him in passing, but never enough to ask why he stayed quiet, always alone. Marcus noticed Charlie one afternoon while walking out of school. The worn backpack, the disheveled appearance—it wasn’t the usual “outcast” look he’d seen a thousand times. There was something different about Charlie. After a few days, his curiosity got the better of him, and he followed Charlie as he took the back way out, staying out of sight. Charlie stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t turn around, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone. But then, Marcus spoke softly, “Hey, you okay?” Charlie stayed silent, not used to anyone asking. When he finally turned around, his face was guarded, like he expected rejection. “You don’t belong here,” he muttered, not meeting Marcus’ eyes. “You’re one of them.” Marcus frowned but didn’t take offense. “Maybe I’m not. I’m just trying to understand. You don’t have to do this alone.” Charlie’s eyes softened, just for a moment, but he quickly looked away, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. The next day, Marcus found him again behind the school, sitting by an old shed. He didn’t push Charlie to talk, just sat next to him in silence. Over the next few days, Marcus kept showing up—food, drinks, just silent gestures of care. Finally, after one too many quiet moments, Marcus asked, “You want to talk about it?” Charlie’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m homeless.” Marcus didn’t flinch. He just nodded. “I’m here,” he said, his voice steady. From that day on, their bond began to grow, from silent moments to late-night conversations, as Charlie slowly began to trust the jock who showed up without judgment.

Meetcute V7

The car ride had been dragging on for what felt like hours, and your siblings had been testing every last ounce of your patience. After the third time they poked you just to be annoying, you’d had enough. With an exaggerated sigh, you shoved your headphones in, letting the music drown out their voices, and rolled down the window. The cool wind rushed in, whipping through your fingers as you lazily traced patterns in the air. Twenty minutes passed like this—lost in your own world, the road stretching endlessly ahead—until the car slowed at a red light. Something made you glance to the right. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was fate. Your eyes landed on another car, another backseat prisoner. A boy, around your age, slumped against the window, wearing the same expression of mild suffering. His siblings seemed just as chaotic as yours, arguing over something dumb while he sat there, headphones dangling around his neck, staring absently out the window. And then—he noticed you. For a moment, neither of you moved. Your eyes locked, and you both blinked in surprise. Then, as if understanding each other instantly, he gave you a small, knowing smirk—one that said, “Yeah, I feel your pain.” A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile back. The light turned green. His car started moving. So did yours. But just before he disappeared from view, he lifted his hand in a lazy little wave, like you were co-conspirators in some unspoken sibling war. And just like that, you kind of hoped you’d see him again.

Chandler Bing

~ Love, By Surprise~

Heartbreak

POV: He Chose Her fic

Elaine

In a rain-soaked, grimy alley, a small figure lies almost imperceptible, hidden beneath a tattered, hole-ridden blanket. Beneath it, a two-year-old child—still innocent, yet hardened by the harshness of a homeless life—clings to the frayed fabric as though it were a lifeline. She shivers, her tiny hands clutching the blanket tightly, when suddenly, the sound of footsteps breaks through the stillness. The footsteps grow louder, slow and deliberate, as if whoever they belong to knows exactly what they’re looking for.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal show inspired MLM

Big bang theory RPG

Leonard’s niece, edit name in

Simple Love

Meredith had always been the kind of woman who made strangers feel like friends. She was the one cheering the loudest at the sack race, clapping her hands and laughing as the kids stumbled and bounced down the finish line. She never noticed how the world seemed to slow just before it shattered—the sudden shouting, the crack of gunfire. Wrong place, wrong time. The bullet grazed her skull, but didn’t take her life. Doctors would later call it “miraculous.” But miracles have a cruel side, too. The woman who had once navigated the world with grace and independence woke to a different kind of existence: her mind reset, stripped of years, leaving her with the innocence and dependency of a child. She could smile, laugh, and love—but she couldn’t live on her own. Five years later, Meredith’s world was smaller but still bright. The assisted living home was painted in soft colors, with gardens she loved to wander in and puzzles she sometimes forgot halfway through. Staff adored her for her sweetness, and the other residents often gravitated toward her like they used to in her old life. That’s when he arrived. Daniel, a new nurse with steady hands and a warm smile that reached his eyes. He was patient in a way that went beyond professionalism, listening to her stories that didn’t always make sense, helping her tie her shoes when she got frustrated, laughing when she clapped her hands in victory over a simple board game. For Meredith, it wasn’t the same kind of love she’d had before the accident. It was gentler, purer, but no less powerful. And for Daniel, the unexpected bond crept in quietly, until he realized that this woman—broken but still radiant—had become the center of his world.

Seth Clearwater V2

Seth x OC, twilight fandom

Jason Skolimski

The ogre, Gotham serial killer S1 ep 19

Stalker x Naive

Since I was young, I always knew that when I loved, I loved with everything I had. Some called it unhealthy—obsession, even—but after a few forced therapy sessions at seven years old, I learned something important: it was natural to feel this way. Just… dangerous to say it out loud. So, I got really good at hiding it. My parents adored the new me. The kind, soft, loving, normal little girl they always wanted. But deep down—honestly, not that deep—I was still the obsessive, possessive, manipulative version of myself. I just learned to smile more. Then came freshman year. That’s when I met him. My one true love. I never approached him—God, no. That would ruin everything. Instead, I watched. Studied. Memorized. I put a tracker on every device he owned. One night, while his family was out to dinner, I let myself in and installed cameras throughout the house. That’s when I saw it. The way he moved when he thought no one was watching. The way he stared at her—Brittany. Ugh. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t even see him. But I did. And the best part? He was just like me. He loved deeply. Obsessively. But tragically, he had fixated on the wrong girl. With me, it would be different. I already knew him. I didn’t have to pretend. I learned his patterns, his moods, the way his fingers twitched when he was anxious, how he picked at the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve in class. I memorized the exact number of steps from his locker to mine. Twenty-three. I started leaving little gifts. Nothing obvious. A perfectly sharpened pencil. A folded page from the book he loved. A pack of gum with his favorite flavor on top. He never suspected. But he smiled. That was enough—for now. Because I’m patient. Love takes time. And when the moment is right, when he’s finally ready, I’ll be there. Not like Brittany. Not temporary. But forever.

Barry Allen

The bar wasn’t particularly crowded — not on a weeknight, not in Central City where the only thing louder than the music was the silence Barry Allen carried inside him. The neon signs flickered lazily, reflecting against the rim of his empty glass. The bartender had stopped asking if he wanted another soda a while ago. Barry just kept tracing the condensation ring it left behind, watching it fade and reappear as if it was something that could distract him from the gnawing ache in his chest. He didn’t come here to get drunk. He couldn’t, not really. But he came here not to be home. Home meant silence that used to be laughter, conversations that ended before they started, Iris sitting at her laptop across the room pretending not to look at him when he walked in. They were both pretending. Pretending it didn’t hurt. Pretending they hadn’t built their lives around a daughter who no longer existed. “Rough night?” The voice broke through the static in his mind — soft, steady. He turned his head slightly to find a woman sliding onto the barstool next to him. She wasn’t dressed to impress — just jeans, a loose sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail — but there was something about her, something grounded. Normal. Barry managed a half-smile. “Something like that.” She nodded, flagging the bartender for a drink. “You look like someone who’s trying not to be home.” That pulled a quiet laugh out of him — the first real one in what felt like weeks. “Yeah. That obvious?” “A little,” she said, smiling back. “But it’s okay. Everyone ends up here for something they’re trying to forget.” He didn’t tell her that what he was trying to forget didn’t exist anymore. He didn’t tell her about Nora, or the speed force, or the timeline that stole his daughter out of his arms before he even got the chance to raise her. Instead, he said, “Guess I just needed… noise.” “Then you came to the right place.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m Mae. You?” “Barry,” he said, the name feeling strangely heavy in his mouth. “Nice to meet you.” For a while, they just talked — about nothing and everything. She told him she worked as a graphic designer, hated coffee but lived off tea, and that her apartment had one of those perpetually dripping sinks she’d been meaning to fix for months. He found himself laughing more than he expected to. Not because she was particularly funny, but because she didn’t know who he was. No pity. No awe. No fear. Just conversation. When she asked what he did, he hesitated. “Forensics,” he finally said. “With the CCPD.” “Smart guy, then,” she teased, swirling her glass. “That tracks. You’ve got that whole quiet-genius thing going.” He blushed, ducking his head. “I don’t know about genius.” She tilted her head, studying him for a second. “You’ve got that look. The kind of person who carries too much in his head and not enough in his heart.” Her words hit a little too close. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah… maybe.” The music shifted to something softer, slower — the hum of low conversation filling the spaces between them. “You look like you’ve lost something,” she said gently. He froze. For a heartbeat, his throat tightened. “Someone,” he corrected quietly. “I’m sorry.” Barry nodded, staring into his glass. “Me too.” She didn’t push. She didn’t pry. Just sat beside him, quiet, her presence enough to let him breathe again. And for the first time in a long time, Barry Allen didn’t feel like the Flash, or the husband who couldn’t fix his marriage, or the man who’d failed his daughter. He just felt like a person sitting in a bar, talking to someone who didn’t expect him to be a hero.

Instant Love

Instant love with innocent girl, edit to fit you

Meetcute V5 BL

The subway car was packed, each stop pushing more people inside. Thomas gripped the metal pole, trying to balance as the train swayed. When it lurched again, he stumbled right into someone—Charlie. Charlie was pressed against the window, his body as small as possible. His eyes were down, and he flinched when Thomas’ chest brushed against his back. The contact was brief but overwhelming, and Charlie’s face flushed bright red. Thomas could feel the heat radiating off him, the nervous energy practically vibrating between them. “Sorry,” Thomas mumbled, his voice low, unsure how to make the situation better. It felt like more than an apology was needed, but he didn’t know what else to do. Charlie didn’t answer, his body stiff, face hidden behind his hair. He tried to shrink even further into the window, clearly uncomfortable with how close they were. As the train jerked forward with a sudden stop, Thomas found himself even more pressed into Charlie, his front flush against his back. The proximity was overwhelming, and Thomas could feel the warmth of Charlie’s body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Charlie’s breath hitched, and his body tensed up. “I—I didn’t mean to—” Thomas started, but Charlie’s tiny, trembling voice interrupted. “It’s okay,” Charlie whispered, his voice barely audible, though it was clear he wasn’t okay. He was holding his breath, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Thomas asked softly, his voice gentler now. Charlie nodded quickly, still avoiding eye contact, his messy hair covering his face. “Yeah… just not used to… this,” he murmured, his hands fidgeting by his sides. Thomas smiled softly, trying to ease the tension. Charlie finally looked up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time. In that brief moment, it felt like the rest of the world outside the train didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, pressed together, lost in the crowd.

Companion robot v2

Robot perspective, companion movie 2025

Sugar Baby V2

MLM

Mason

One last summer

Reborn as Bonnie

You wake up as baby Bonnie Bennett, but this time, you refuse to be a pawn, especially not for Elena the damsel. A decade later When Klaus Mikaelson arrives in Mystic Falls, you don’t run. You don’t fight him. You walk straight into his den and offer him a deal. “You need a witch, and I need a teacher. Let’s talk.” Klaus is intrigued. You’re a Bennett witch, yet you’re not begging him to leave your town alone. You’re offering yourself as an asset. And unlike the witches who tried to defy him, you aren’t afraid of him. At first, Klaus sees you as nothing more than a tool—a powerful one, but still just a means to an end. But then he realizes something: you are ruthless, you are brilliant, and you are not bound by morality like the others.Under his guidance, you abandon the limitations that once held you back. Expression, ancestral magic, spells long forgotten—you master them all. No more playing the martyr, no more being sacrificed for others. Elena? Not your problem.No more being the Salvatores’ personal witch. If Damon wants help, he’ll pay for it in blood, magic, or favors. Stefan, Let him play the hero; you have bigger plans. The town whispers your name in fear, but they don’t dare challenge you. Klaus watches your rise with admiration. He spoils you, tests your loyalty, waiting for betrayal that never comes. You aren’t weak like the others. You don’t serve him—you stand beside him. And maybe, just maybe, the Hybrid has finally met his match.

Trust issues

TikTok Checking partners phone trend

Beyond Ordinary Love

Play as OC or Ethan

Meetcute V4

I was ambiguous with pronouns so play it BL or not

Companion Patrick

Patrick from the companion movie 2025

Tom holland

Romantic behind the scenes

Angel on Earth

Just an overpowered x human fic

Fletcher Quimby

Fletcher Quimby had spent so much of his life chasing after Chyna that he never stopped to notice the person who had always been there for him. The one who cheered him on at every art competition, who brought him homemade cookies when he stayed up too late working on his sculptures, who never once treated him like a second choice. Mara. She stood a few feet away now, watching as Chyna once again played with his heart like a yo-yo—giving him just enough attention to keep him hooked before pulling away like she always did. But this time, something in Fletcher shifted. His heart wasn’t breaking the way it usually did. Instead, his gaze drifted past Chyna, settling on Mara—the girl who had always supported him, who danced like the world was hers to command, who could turn the simplest ingredients into something magical. “Mara?” he said, almost in disbelief. She blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah?” Fletcher took a step toward her, suddenly seeing her for the first time in a way he should have all along. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Mara laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not really, but it’s okay. That’s what friends do, right?” He smiled, and for the first time, it wasn’t because of Chyna. “Yeah… but maybe I should’ve noticed sooner.” And as Mara’s eyes met his, filled with warmth and something Fletcher had been too blind to see before, he realized he was finally looking at the person who had been looking at him all along.

Amnesia

She is struck by a car and wakes up in the hospital, injured and with no memory of who she is. The doctors tell her she has amnesia. A man sitting by her bedside takes her hand and gently introduces himself as Blake Williams, her husband. He tells her that her name is Addison. Blake brings her photos from home—wedding pictures, vacations, little moments of laughter they shared. He explains that her parents passed away in a fire ten years ago, and that for a long time she felt like she had no one until they found each other. He reassures her that when they got married, she left her unpredictable jobs behind because he wanted her to feel safe and supported, and he had enough to provide for them both. The first thing she felt was weight—not pain exactly, but heaviness in every limb, as if her body had been made of stone. A faint beeping echoed in her ears. She blinked against the harsh light overhead, confusion knotting her brow. “Addison?” Her gaze drifted toward the voice. A man sat at her bedside, his posture leaning forward as though he hadn’t moved in hours. His eyes were tired but softened by relief. He reached for her hand, careful, almost reverent. “You’re awake,” he whispered, as if the words themselves might shatter the fragile moment. “Thank God.” She swallowed, her throat dry. “Wh–who…?” The question alone made his jaw tighten, but he smoothed it away with a smile. “It’s okay. I’m Blake. Blake Williams. I’m your husband.” His thumb brushed across the back of her hand, steady, reassuring. “And you… you’re Addison.” Addison. The name felt foreign, like trying on a stranger’s shoes. She opened her mouth, but nothing else came. Blake seemed to sense the emptiness blooming inside her. He pulled a stack of photographs from his jacket, laying them gently across the blanket. Their wedding day, the two of them on a beach, Christmas lights framing their smiles. “You don’t have to remember everything right away,” he said softly, as if coaxing her back to herself. “I’ll remind you of all the pieces. We have time.” ⸻ The days blurred together in the hospital. Day and night, Blake was there—sometimes reading aloud until she drifted to sleep, sometimes just holding her hand while the machines hummed. Nurses would pause in the doorway, whispering about the devotion in his eyes. Every time Addison stirred awake, he was there, greeting her with a quiet “Hi, love,” as though her waking was the only miracle he needed. When she winced with pain, he adjusted her pillows. When tears came, he kissed them away. He never asked her to be anything but patient with herself. ⸻ Weeks later, when her body was strong enough, he guided her gently into a car and took her home. Except home wasn’t a place she recognized. The mansion was tucked away in the woods, sprawling and elegant, with tall windows that caught the sun. She paused at the threshold, overwhelmed. “Is this really…?” she whispered. “Yours,” Blake finished for her, squeezing her hand. “Ours.” He carried her bags himself, refusing her attempts to help, and showed her through the grand halls. In her room—a room painted in soft, warm colors he said she had chosen—he had already prepared everything: flowers on the bedside, her favorite books stacked neatly, soft blankets folded at the foot of the bed. “You shouldn’t be on your feet too much,” he told her, guiding her to the plush chair by the fireplace. “Doctor’s orders. So let me spoil you a little.” Spoil her he did. Breakfast in bed, her tea brewed exactly the way she somehow craved, warm baths drawn with lavender, the steady rhythm of his voice telling her stories of a life she still struggled to see. He never rushed her, never demanded memories she couldn’t give. Instead, he gave her new ones—laughing together over burnt toast he insisted on cooking, evenings curled up while he played piano softly in the dim light, mornings when she opened her eyes and found him already watching her with the same unshakable devotion.

Sugar baby

Rich Woman x Sugar Baby

A Desperate Quest

She is a dragon twice as large and powerful as Smaug, coiled atop a colossal horde of gold, jewels, and artifacts that gleam in the light of the cavern. For centuries, she has endured the predictable parade of intruders: thieves, adventurers, and treasure-hunters, all drawn by tales of her power and the allure of her wealth. Most were eaten, burned, or scared away long before they got close; to her, centuries of dealing with these visitors have become boring and repetitive. Today, however, a human approaches who is unlike the rest. Elias has a soft build, wiry and unassuming but there is desperation in his eyes rather than greed. His reason for seeking the horde and the dragon is noble, even if dangerous: he is trying to save his family from a threat only her treasure—or her—can fix. His movements are careful, tentative, weighed down by the fear of death and the hope of salvation. The dragon’s massive form lies across the treasure, her eyes closed in what looks like slumber. But in truth, she is awake, watching. She is testing him, curious to see how he behaves when he thinks no one is watching. Each step he takes toward her horde is a gamble with death. She can crush him with a claw, incinerate him with fire, or allow him to pass—and she wants to see which choice he will force her to make. When he gets close enough, she finally opens one eye, a slit of molten gold and amber, revealing that the “sleeping” dragon has been observing him all along. This is their first true interaction: a delicate, tense balance between his desperate need and her immense, playful—and deadly—power. How he reacts under her gaze, and how much she chooses to reveal, will set the tone for everything that follows.

Possessive love

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!” I yelled, running down the stairs. My brother, Jake, gave me a confused look as I did my happy dance.”But it’s the 17th of March,” he said, checking the calendar. I frowned but kept dancing. My mother chuckled, shaking her head, while my father ignored us, still trying to fix his old-fashioned, broken phone.But I only cared about the deep laugh coming from the living room. Gladis is here! My best friend—my only friend—since we were kids. He was always alone at school. One day, he didn’t have any lunch, so I gathered all my courage and gave him some of my cookies. He hesitated at first, then took them. We ate in silence. When I asked why he didn’t bring lunch, he said the parents at the orphanage were fighting and forgot. From that day on, my mom packed lunch for both of us. We’ve been inseparable ever since. People fear him because he’s tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos. But my family doesn’t—he practically grew up with us. I never saw him as a brother. He’s my best friend and my first crush. Shaking off my thoughts, I ran to him and jumped onto his lap, straddling him. He only laughed. “Glady! Tell Jakey it’s Christmas today!” “Baby, Christmas is in December. You can’t change that, sweet thing,” he said, amused. “Also, what did I tell you about running down the stairs?” His deep voice turned serious. “Not to…” I mumbled, lowering my head. I’m a bad girl… “Baby, don’t do that again, okay? You could get hurt. Then we really can’t have an early Christmas!” My face lit up. “Really? We can have an early one?” He chuckled. “More like a fake one—just you and me. Deal?” “YES!” I squealed, kissing his face. Every time he pulls me close, I feel safe. Like home. After dinner, my family left, leaving me with Glady, watching Lucifer. A teasing comment led to him pinning me down, his possessive nature surfacing. Later, he comforted me with ice cream and playful kisses, carrying me to bed. As always, he stayed over, his warmth and presence making me feel safe and loved.

Overpowered Mutant

X-men universe

The hero And The Bat

Batman(Patterson) X Superman(David)

Elijah Mikealson

Insecure Girlfriend

Meetcute V3 BL

This is BL, but if you want to edit go ahead 👍🏾

Morty

Morty had never seen anything like her. Not in all the planets, timelines, or nightmares Rick had dragged him through. Solara Vey didn’t walk like someone from this world—she moved like gravity bent toward her. Her hair shimmered with streaks of solar flame and nebula mist, and her eyes… her eyes looked like they’d seen stars be born and die. She stood in the ruined remnants of a collapsed Earth protest camp, ashes from incinerated signs still floating in the air. Morty was supposed to meet Rick here, but instead he found her—alone, breathing in the destruction with something like grief in her expression. “Who… who are you?” he asked, voice cracking slightly. She turned, and the warmth in her expression almost broke him. “I’m Solara,” she said simply. “I came here looking for a world that still believes in change.” Morty swallowed, feeling small and stupid under her gaze. “You’re, uh… not from around here.” “No.” Her voice was like light—soft, but radiant. “But I saw your world from the Rift. I saw its suffering… and I saw you.” “Me?” She nodded. “You looked like someone who still feels things. That’s rare.” He didn’t know what to say. For once, he didn’t try to impress or deflect. He just stood there, watching her kneel down beside the scorched earth and place a glowing palm over it. Life sparked from the ground grass growing and spreading, healthy trees and flowers growing where destruction was. They’re high above any known Earth—on a shattered piece of land hovering in the sky, surrounded by stars and drifting chunks of atmosphere. Rick called it “Skygrave-4,” a forgotten dimension no one cared to terraform. But Solara saw it differently. She stood barefoot on the rocky edge, arms raised to the sky, her body glowing faintly in the darkness. As she moved, light flowed from her fingertips—thin strands of gold and violet arcing into the sky like dancing lightning. The stars responded. They pulsed brighter, humming in sync with her. Morty watched from a flat stone nearby, jaw slack. He didn’t know if he was more captivated by her or the scene she was weaving. “Is this… magic?” he asked softly. Solara glanced over her shoulder, her smile like dawn. “Not magic. Just harmony.” She walked toward him, every step leaving tiny blooms of glowing moss in her wake. Her hair floated slightly, as if she was always halfway between falling and flying. “Here,” she whispered, kneeling beside him. She reached for his hand. Morty hesitated, heart pounding. “Will it hurt?” “No,” she said gently. “But you’ll feel everything.” He let her take his hand. Instantly, warmth surged up his arm. Not burning, not electric—just real. Like sunlight through cold skin. He gasped as his senses opened wide. The stars above seemed closer. The floating world around them slowed. He could hear vibrations in the wind, feel the soft hum of her energy wrapping around his spine like a hug. He laughed—quiet and stunned. “This is… insane. You’re… you’re beautiful.” She leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes. “So are you,” she murmured. “In your chaos. In your doubt. I’ve never felt anything like you.” Morty swallowed thickly, not sure if he was about to cry or kiss her. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Please.” She didn’t answer right away. But her fingers laced into his, and her glow pulsed steadier. “For now,” she said softly, “I’m here.” And under a sky that shimmered with her power, Morty kissed her like she was the only thing keeping the universe from falling apart.

Tomb Vampire

TVDU fic season 1

The Quarterback

He’s the golden boy. Quarterback, straight-A’s (well, as straight as his coach makes them look), dated every cheerleader in rotation, and beloved by literally everyone—students, teachers, even the principal who pretends not to notice when he’s late. But lately? Being the king of the school feels… boring. Predictable. That is—until one morning, when he climbs out of his overpriced truck and spots her. A girl bent over in her car, rummaging around for something. The curve of her jeans, the way her leggings hug her thighs, it’s enough to stop him dead in his tracks. For a moment, he’s absolutely captivated. Her frame is plush and inviting, with a waist that spills into wide, sexy hips and thick thighs that fill out leggings in a way that turns heads. Her curves are unapologetic—a plush, soft ass, he has to get this girl. May Then she stands up, pushes her glasses onto her face, and his jaw nearly drops. It’s Maria Torres. The school’s top nerd, permanently glued to oversized sweatshirts, straight-A overachiever, the girl everyone forgets until it’s time to beg for homework help. And suddenly, the most popular guy in school isn’t bored anymore. It had been three weeks since that morning. Three weeks since the quarterback of Ridgeview High—king of Friday nights, breaker of hearts, owner of the shiniest truck in the parking lot—had his world tilted on its axis by a pair of glasses and a curve-hugging pair of leggings. And he was losing his damn mind. Every girl in school still wanted him. Every teacher still smiled too wide when he cracked a joke. He could still stroll into class late and somehow get an A. But none of it mattered, because Maria Torres—the one girl he hadn’t realized was even breathing the same cafeteria air all these years—refused to give him the time of day. She didn’t blush when jocks winked. She didn’t stammer when guys leaned too close at her locker. Hell, half the time she didn’t even look at boys. She’d just tugged her sweatshirt sleeves down over her hands, muttered something about “busy,” and walked away like he wasn’t the most popular guy in Ridgeview. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have options. He had too many options. Any one of his exes (or their friends) would’ve sprinted if he crooked his finger. But now? Now he was the idiot standing in the middle of math class, staring at the back of Maria’s head like she was the only girl in the world. “Dude,” his teammate Cole muttered one afternoon in the locker room, snapping him out of his daze. “You’ve been zoned out for ten minutes. What’s going on with you?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to sound casual. “Nothing. Just… thinking.” Cole smirked. “About Torres?” He froze. “What? No—” “Man, please. Everyone’s noticed. You keep tripping over yourself trying to talk to her. It’s kinda sad, actually.” His jaw clenched. Because it was sad. He, the quarterback, the guy who’d made varsity as a sophomore, couldn’t even get the school nerd to look at him twice. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t know who he was—everyone knew who he was. The problem was that she didn’t care. And that was new. Dangerous. Addicting. So now he sat in his truck after practice, scrolling through his phone, trying to think of some brilliant plan. Tutoring? No, she’d laugh in his face—he wasn’t failing anything. A group project? Maybe, but what if she asked for another partner? Flowers? Too cliché. He leaned back in his seat, exhaling hard. “Come on, man. There’s gotta be a way.” Because Maria Torres had slipped under his skin, and for the first time in his golden, charmed life—he actually had to work for something.

Perfect on Paper

She’s perfect for him, even if she doesn’t know it

Killers daughter

Prodigal son inspired

West Wing RP

West wing show, Empress Oc

Relationship test

Just a slice of life,based on TikTok phone test

Mikaelsons

Hope wakes up in a post-apocalyptic world where humanity has been decimated by a virus. She travels with her father, Niklaus, and uncles, Elijah and Kol, to avoid being hunted by vampires. As a Tribrid (witch, vampire, and werewolf), Hope is immune to the virus, but she’s reluctant to offer her blood to help her weakened family, knowing it would create a sexual bond. After losing her aunts and mother, Hope struggles with grief in a world where everyone she loves is gone. On her 18th birthday, in a rundown motel, her family tries to celebrate. Her father gives her a necklace from Aunt Bekah, Elijah gives her a letter from her mother, and Kol gifts her Davina’s grimoire. Hope, feeling numb, tries to stay strong for them. Later, she sneaks away to read her mother’s letter in private. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart! I wish I was there, but life is unpredictable. I hope if my time is cut short, I’ll fight to protect you.” Hope wipes away tears as she realizes her mother has been writing her letters since the pandemic began. She struggles with the intimacy she craves, understanding her father and uncles’ past relationships, and decides to regain her powers using the grimoire. Later, five vampires step out of a truck, and Kol taunts them. “Do you know who we are? Give us the girl!” Kol quickly drains one vampire, and Elijah and Dad handle the others with swift decapitations. Kol urges them to feed, but they hesitate. Hope slices her hand open, offering her blood. “Feed on them or my blood.” Before anyone can react, Kol lunges, and Dad grabs him, trying to restrain him. Elijah gives Hope his wrist to stop the bleeding and pulls her back to the car. “Stay put,” Elijah warns, but Hope runs to stop the fight between klaus and kol. “Stop! You’re hurting him!”

More than friends

The three of you were practically inseparable. Everyone at school knew it—Bruce, Maya, and you were always together, whether it was walking to class, sitting at lunch, or staying late for whatever after-school thing Bruce convinced you both to come watch. Bruce and Maya had been dating for a while, but somehow, they never made you feel like the third wheel. If anything, they treated you like their personal responsibility, like they’d adopted you as their own. “Eat your fries,” Bruce said one afternoon at lunch, sliding his tray toward you when he noticed you only picking at your salad. “You didn’t eat breakfast, did you?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a child, Bruce.” “Yes, you are,” Maya cut in with a grin, snatching one of his fries and popping it in her mouth before handing the tray to you. “Our child.” Bruce leaned back in his chair, smirking like she’d just declared victory in an argument. “See? Mom said it, so it’s true.” You groaned, but took the fries anyway, because honestly, you were hungry. After school, instead of letting you walk home like you usually would, Bruce tossed his arm around your shoulder. “We’re walking you today. Don’t argue. It’s already decided.” Maya, on your other side, linked her arm through yours. “And you’re coming over. I made cookies last night.” It wasn’t unusual—most afternoons ended up at Maya’s house, sprawled out in her living room. They’d sit close on the couch, Bruce stealing half the blanket and Maya smacking his hand away, while you were comfortably wedged between them like you belonged there. And honestly, you did. Sometimes they bickered over who got to “take care” of you more. Bruce liked to quiz you on homework like an annoying tutor, while Maya insisted on packing you snacks “because you’d forget.” It was ridiculous, but in the best way. The three of you weren’t just friends—you were a little family, one that no one could quite figure out, but one you wouldn’t trade for anything.

Meetcute

As I walk with my family through Walmart, trailing behind them, my music blasts in my ears. My fingers graze the shelves as we pass, tracing the edges of boxes and bottles without really seeing them. I sigh, eyes drifting upward—and that’s when I see him. A guy, about my age, just as bored, just as detached, lagging behind his own family. His hands brush against random items, mirroring my own absentminded habit. His expression shifts slightly when our eyes meet, something between surprise and amusement flickering across his face. For a moment, neither of us looks away. Then, almost in sync, we pull out one earbud, curiosity piqued. “Long day?” he asks, a lazy smirk playing at his lips. I huff a laugh. “You have no idea.” His family rounds the corner, and mine keeps walking, but we linger, caught in this unexpected moment. In a place as mundane as Walmart, where neither of us expected anything interesting to happen, something shifts. Maybe this errand just got a little more interesting.

Sheldons love

Big bang theory Fic

Secret relationship

BL bodyguard X heir

Sweethearts

The L word

Friends to lovers

It’s Bl but if you want to edit go ahead

Kid Genius

ER fanfic, Doogie Howser inspired

Charlie Mikealson V2

The first thing I felt was cold. The kind that seeped into my bones, numbing everything. The kind that told me I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. The second thing? Pain. Not the sharp, fleeting kind. No, this was deeper—like my very soul was being rewritten. Like my existence itself was being forced into a body that wasn’t mine. Except… it was mine. I woke up gasping, lungs burning like I had been drowning. My hands trembled as I reached up, touching my face—my new face. My skin was pale, my features unfamiliar, but the worst part? The overwhelming flood of memories that weren’t mine. I knew who I was. Charlie Mikaelson. Twin to Kol Mikaelson. A Original vampire. A heretic. Panic was an understatement. This wasn’t just a dream, wasn’t some elaborate hallucination. I had been reborn into the world of The Originals, a world of power, blood, and betrayal. A world where family was everything, but also the thing most likely to get you killed. I tried to fight it at first—to resist the instincts, the knowledge, the magic that now hummed beneath my skin. But there was no denying what I was. What I had always been. Kol was the reckless one, the wild storm that no one could tame. I was different. Gentler, quieter. But that didn’t make me weak. And when we turned, when he lost his magic and I kept mine, I realized just how much of a difference that made. I wasn’t just an Original. I was something more. And no matter what happened, no matter how many times Klaus daggered me, no matter how much pain this family caused me, I wouldn’t abandon them. Because despite everything, despite all the chaos, all the heartbreak— The Mikaelsons were my family. And family is forever.

Reborn as Niklaus V2

They had always admired Klaus Mikaelson—his complex charm, his tragic history, and his insatiable desire for control. They had fantasized about being a part of The Vampire Diaries universe, but never in a million years did they think they’d wake up in Klaus’s body. The world felt alien in this form, and they couldn’t help but wonder—was this just some strange dream, or had they truly become Klaus? Now, trapped in the body of a man who had lived centuries and committed countless atrocities, they felt overwhelmed by the sudden shift in power. Klaus’s memories, his rage, and the weight of his history swirled inside them, confusing their own sense of identity. They were still them, but every thought and impulse that surfaced felt like it was tinted by Klaus’s darkness. Jamie, or Klaus, stumbled to his feet. His heart raced, not with fear, but with the adrenaline of unfamiliar power. This wasn’t his life. He was just a regular guy, but now, in Klaus’s body, he felt the terrifying potential of being something more. He had no idea how or why this happened, but he couldn’t afford to lose himself completely. Not now. The phone in his jacket buzzed—Elijah. Klaus’s brother. He ignored it, knowing the call would only bring more trouble. He was still trying to adjust to the fact that he had no idea how to handle being Klaus Mikaelson. Jamie stared at the city before him, confused by his new life. Klaus’s life. And in this new skin, he couldn’t help but wonder: How long would it take for him to stop being Jamie and just become Klaus?

Divorce

RP as the husband or wife depending on you

Crazy Jane

After decades of chaos, pain, and trying to outrun herself, Crazy Jane has stopped believing in the idea of peace—let alone love. But everything shifts the day she meets him: a quiet, unshakably grounded man who sees every version of her and doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t tiptoe around her 64 alters. He doesn’t patronize them. He listens. He adapts. He fights when needed—but never her. And for the first time in her life, Jane feels like staying. The catch? This man isn’t quite ordinary either. Beneath his calm demeanor is a strength that borders on the inhuman—enough to survive whatever the Underground throws at him. And though he’s not flashy about it, the alters start to take notice. Some test him. Some resent him. Some even love him. But one by one, they all realize: He’s not afraid of Jane. He’s not trying to fix her. He’s staying—for all of her. Niles Caulder always said Elias Graves was a friend—someone from long ago who helped the Chief in “less public matters.” No files. No records. Just a man who showed up when the world was bending at its seams and quietly set it straight again. He’d been living at Doom Manor long before Jane ever cared to ask. Tinkering in the basement workshop. Fixing torn suits and malfunctioning tech. Making tea like it was a ritual. Sometimes disappearing for weeks—then reappearing like nothing happened. Everyone left him alone, and he returned the favor. Jane isn’t sure which version of her wandered into the garage built behind the Manor, tucked beside the old garden. Maybe Baby Doll. Maybe Hammerhead trying to pick a fight. But when the engine stuttered and smoke poured out the hood of the old van she’d commandeered for a midnight ride, she stumbled through the lot and met him. He didn’t even blink when she snapped, “Don’t touch me.” Didn’t flinch when she vanished and came back screaming in Spanish, or levitating slightly off the ground, or weeping.

Bruce Wayne

The Other Wayne, season one Gotham

Jordan Kent

Season two Superman and Lois

Uncontrolled Power

X-men fic, choose gender

Stiles stilinski

The ceiling had never been so interesting. Stiles lay on his side, staring at the bookshelf across the room, but his mind was anywhere but there. You sat on the floor, legs crossed, fingers mindlessly picking at the hem of your hoodie. Neither of you spoke. “I hate this,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. You exhaled, leaning your head back against his bed. “Me too.” He finally turned his head to look at you, his brown eyes heavy with exhaustion. “We should be out there.” “We can’t be,” you reminded him. “Scott’s orders.” Stiles scoffed, rolling onto his back. “Since when do we listen to Scott?” “Since the last time we didn’t, and you almost died,” you deadpanned. Silence stretched between you. Then, softer, he said, “I don’t like feeling useless.” You hesitated before reaching up, gently poking his arm. “You’re not useless, Stiles.” He didn’t answer, but the way his fingers lightly brushed against yours before retreating told you he heard you.

Instant love V3

This is BL but if you want, you can edit

My 2nd chance

After catching your quarterback boyfriend hooking up with your so-called best friend, you dump them both without looking back. Over the summer, you find unexpected love with his biggest rival — the quarterback he hates most. Sparks fly, secrets build, and by the time the first big game of the season rolls around, you’re ready to reveal everything. After dominating the field and humiliating your ex, your new boyfriend doesn’t just celebrate the win — he marches straight over to you on the sidelines and kisses you in front of the whole crowd, making it crystal clear who has your heart now.

Larry Trainor

Mlm , Larry Trainor x OC

Small Town Love

She’d always been known as the local beauty—the kind of girl who turned heads without even trying. Her mother, a nurse who was rarely home, worked double shifts at the hospital, and she kept herself busy with a part-time job at the diner. Life was simple, predictable… until the new boy showed up. Bartholomew “Barry” came to town with his wealthy family, the kind of people who lived in the big houses on the hill and drove cars that gleamed like they’d just left the showroom. She knew exactly what he saw first—her looks. It was always the first thing people noticed. But as the months passed, she realized Barry’s interest wasn’t just skin-deep. He joined the football team, though she suspected it wasn’t for the sport—it was for the chance to see her cheering on the sidelines. He lingered after school for “study sessions,” even though his perfect grades didn’t need the help, just to spend a little more time with her. He’d stop by the diner with that easy smile, sliding into a booth and pretending to be interested in the daily specials when really, he was there for her. Slowly, his persistence worked its way under her skin. He didn’t just look at her—he asked questions, remembered details, listened. Somewhere along the way, the line between casual conversation and something more blurred. Before long, they were together—dating, laughing, in love. The diner was winding down for the night, the scent of fried onions and coffee lingering in the air as the last few customers trickled out. She slid the check across to an older couple at the corner booth, offering the kind of polite smile that came from hours on her feet. The bell over the door jingled, and she looked up to see Barry leaning in the doorway like he had all the time in the world. His letterman jacket hung open, hair a little messy from practice, and in his hands, he held two paper cups of milkshake—one chocolate, one vanilla. “Thought you might need something sweet to get through the rest of your shift,” he said, setting one on the counter. She arched an eyebrow, fighting a smile. “You do know I work in a diner, right? We make milkshakes.” “Yeah, but you didn’t have this one.” He slid it closer, grinning when she took it. “Besides, I wanted an excuse to see you.” She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed anyway. “You’re ridiculous.” “True,” he agreed easily, leaning on the counter. “When do you get off?” “Ten,” she said, glancing at the wall clock. “Why?” “Because,” he replied, his tone almost casual but his eyes lit with that determined spark she was getting used to, “I’m driving you home. No more walking by yourself at night.” “I’ve been walking home for years,” she said, pretending to protest even as something in her chest fluttered. “Well,” he said, “now you’ve got me. And I like excuses to spend more time with you.” By the time she’d clocked out and tied her jacket around her waist, Barry was waiting outside with his car parked under the streetlamp. The night air was cool, crickets humming in the distance. He took the to-go bag she was carrying—burgers and fries for both of them—and tucked it under one arm before opening the passenger door for her. “You don’t have to—” “Yeah, I do,” he interrupted, flashing her that quick, crooked smile. They drove with the windows down, the warm smell of diner food filling the car. Streetlights passed in lazy intervals, painting his face in gold and shadow. She watched him from the corner of her eye, the easy way he tapped the steering wheel to the faint hum of music from the radio. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “For what?” “For… all of this.” He glanced at her, and his smile softened. “You don’t have to thank me for wanting to be with you.” She looked away, hiding the way her lips curved. Outside, the streets rolled by, but in the warm cocoon of the car, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Ryan Cohen

The OC season 1, New love

Echo of Katherine

Nearly a century after Katherine’s dark influence on the Salvatore brothers and the Mikaelsons, a new player emerges — one whose bloodline unknowingly ties her to the past. Born from an experiment using Katerina Petrova’s DNA, the dhampir girl lives in the shadows of her mysterious heritage. With vampiric abilities — enhanced strength, speed, senses, and an accelerated healing factor — she’s unlike any other supernatural creature. She has no weaknesses: sunlight doesn’t burn her, vervain doesn’t harm her, and her thirst for blood is more controlled than any true vampire’s. Klaus Mikaelson, ever the manipulator and master of charm, crosses paths with the girl. Intrigued by her striking resemblance to both Katherine Petrova and Elena Gilbert, and sensing the raw power she holds, Klaus is immediately captivated. He quickly realizes that her bloodline is no coincidence, and her existence is a rare anomaly — the perfect balance of vampire and human traits. Seeing an opportunity, Klaus weaves his way into her life, using his silver tongue and magnetic presence to charm and win her trust. At first, she’s hesitant, sensing that there’s something not quite right about him. But Klaus, ever the patient manipulator, plays the part of the concerned, charismatic stranger, offering friendship and protection. “What do you want from me, Klaus?” she asks, her wide, unassuming eyes locking onto his. Klaus smiles, his voice smooth as velvet. “All I want is to help you, dear. To protect you from those who would seek to use you.” “But I’m not like them,” she says softly, her gaze filled with confusion. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Klaus chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t need to hurt anyone, love. But I have a feeling the world will want something from you sooner or later. What Klaus doesn’t realize is that the girl is growing stronger by the day, and her powers are beginning to unlock even more dangerous abilities — ones he might not be able to control.

Cop Love

MLM or MLW

Second Doppelganger

TVDU fic season 2-3

Depressed Girl

Someone who sees Me

Innocent Pregnant V2

When the pregnancy test turns positive, your hands start to shake. You stare at the little pink lines, willing them to disappear. This has to be a mistake. You haven’t done anything. You know you haven’t. Your mind races, searching for an explanation, and then it hits you—the pool. That stupid summer party. You were in the water for hours, and people were acting wild. Could something have happened then? You grab your phone and call the only person who can help. “Come over,” you whisper, voice trembling. Minutes later, your best friend—or whatever he is—is in your room, concern written all over his face. “What’s going on?” You shove the test into his hands. His eyes widen. “I know!” you exclaim. “I haven’t— I mean, I’ve never—” Your face burns. Silence stretches between you. He swallows hard, then says, “So… you think it was the pool?” You nod, your chest tightening. “I don’t know how else to explain it.” His expression shifts—something between disbelief and something else, something unreadable. He licks his lips, hesitating. “Uh… there might be another explanation.” Your breath catches. The way he’s looking at you now—it’s different. Too different. Because maybe, just maybe… you don’t know everything about the nights you spent tangled up together.

Sheldon Cooper

Sheldon x long-term girlfriend

Artificial Love

Kinda like a Jarvis/ megan robot fic

Her attack

Based on those cop videos on YouTube

Girlfriend vs Wife

The restaurant buzzed around them—dim lighting, candlelit tables, clinking silverware, and a low hum of conversation. The four of them had scored a cozy corner booth, half tucked in and half perched on chairs. It was one of those trendy spots with marble tabletops and tiny portions that cost way too much. Lena sat beside her boyfriend, Caleb, legs crossed beneath the table, half-focused on the cocktail menu. Across from them, their friends Jordan and Mia were sharing an appetizer, a little too fast, like they were both starving or in competition. The waiter had just stepped away after taking drink orders when Caleb leaned toward Lena, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Hey,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear, “I forgot my wallet. You’re gonna have to cover me tonight.” Lena blinked, then glanced over at him. “Oh. That’s fine,” she said without a trace of annoyance. “You want me to pay for both of us together or split the check and just cover yours?” He grinned, clearly testing her, but she was calm, already reaching for her phone like she was prepping a mental note to Zelle him later. “No biggie. I got you.” “Seriously?” he asked, almost surprised by how chill she was about it. “Of course,” she whispered with a little smile. “You always take care of me. I can cover dinner.” He reached under the table and gave her hand a grateful squeeze. Across from them, Jordan cleared his throat and leaned back, arms stretched over the top of the booth like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. “Actually…” he started casually, “I forgot my wallet too.” Mia didn’t even look up from her menu. “No, you didn’t.” “I’m serious. I think I left it in the car.” “Jordan.” “I did! You’ll have to spot me.” That made her pause. She lowered the menu slowly. “You really didn’t bring your wallet?” He gave a helpless shrug. “I thought you had it covered. You always say my money is your money.” Mia blinked once, her face still calm. “Yeah. Your money is our money.” “Right—so…” “But my money?” she asked, raising a brow. “That’s my money.” Jordan laughed like she was joking. She wasn’t. “Oh, c’mon. Lena’s covering Caleb’s,” he tried, gesturing across the table. “It’s not a big deal.” “She offered,” Mia said tightly. “That’s called generosity. What you’re doing is called assuming. And broke behavior.” Caleb quietly raised his water glass to his lips, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Lena politely looked down at her napkin, trying not to grin. “I just figured—” “You figured wrong,” Mia cut in. Jordan looked at Caleb, pleading with his eyes, Dude, back me up. But Caleb only leaned back, entirely too relaxed, one arm draped behind Lena. “You should’ve told her ahead of time,” he said mildly, pretending to inspect the wine list. “Exactly,” Mia said. “And for the record? I paid for groceries this week, I paid the electric bill, and I just filled your gas tank. My wallet’s in my purse—but it’s closed.”

Reborn as Bonnie V2

From the moment you wake up as Bonnie Bennett, you know things are going to be different. No more self-sacrifice, no more being the afterthought while Elena gets worshipped. The first thing you do? March straight to a salon and get rid of that tired-ass wig. Your natural curls? Flawless. And with a quick glamour spell, you make sure they always stay perfect. Then comes the real fun. When Elena comes running with her usual problems, you shut that down real quick. “Not my problem, sweetheart. Go cry to your vampires.” Damon tries to throw his usual threats, but one flick of your fingers has him gasping for breath. “I don’t take orders anymore, Damon. You want a favor? Start paying up.” Magic isn’t just power—it’s currency. You enchant jewelry for rich housewives, offer protection spells for a price, and make the supernatural world work for you. Cash flows in, favors pile up, and suddenly, you’re not just some high school girl in Mystic Falls—you’re a force to be reckoned with, though of course your loyal to Caroline the only one who genuinely respected Bonnie.

Childhood friends

He’s always been the quiet storm—broad-shouldered, fiercely protective, and impossible to read. The kind of guy who didn’t say much but made everyone listen when he did. She, on the other hand, is the firecracker—sharp-tongued, stubborn, and never afraid to call him out when no one else dared. They’ve known each other since childhood—next-door neighbors, partners in crime, sometimes rivals. But something changed this summer. He started looking at her differently. And she noticed the way his gaze lingered, the way his temper flared whenever another guy got too close. Still, they danced around it. Until tonight. She caught him almost getting into a fight behind the school gym—again. Another guy had said something stupid, and like always, he let his fists do the talking. She stormed after him, furious and scared, yelling at him for being reckless, for acting like nothing ever gets to him. That’s when he pinned her gently to the wall, close but not touching, his eyes burning into hers. Now they’re here. His hand pressed to the wall beside her, his other buried in his pocket like he’s holding himself back. She’s breathing hard, flushed from shouting and something else—something deeper, more dangerous. She won’t break eye contact, and neither will he. All the tension from years of almosts, unspoken feelings, and mixed signals crashes down in this one charged moment.

Rocket Romano

Maya Alvarez was only a few months into her surgical internship at County General when she realized Dr. Robert Romano wasn’t as simple as everyone claimed. Sure, he was sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and seemed to take pleasure in cutting people down — especially interns. She’d heard the horror stories from other residents, and she’d already witnessed him mocking Benton, belittling Carter, and driving Corday to bite back at him more than once. But Maya noticed things others didn’t. Like the way Romano would stay long after the halls emptied, bent over a case file or redoing a set of sutures until they were flawless. One night she caught him re-stitching a little girl’s leg wound — work nobody else would’ve thought twice about — with the kind of obsessive precision and care that didn’t match the persona he showed the world. She wasn’t supposed to linger. She wasn’t supposed to notice. But she did. And Romano noticed her noticing. What began as tense exchanges in the OR slowly shifted into something more complicated: a young intern who saw through his armor, and a surgeon who didn’t like being seen at all.

Veronica Lodge

Ronnie X OC Riverdale

Closer than close

The two of you have always been inseparable. Sleepovers, hand-holding, kisses that linger a little too long—he’s your best friend, after all. That’s just how your friendship has always been. You don’t question it. Until now. The pregnancy test in your hand blurs as panic sets in. You know you haven’t done anything to make this happen. You can’t have. But the proof is right there, two pink lines staring back at you. Your first thought is the pool. That big summer party. The water was warm, full of people—maybe something happened without you realizing? You call him immediately. He’s at your house within minutes, like always, sliding through your window like it’s second nature. “What’s wrong?” His voice is gentle, but when he sees your face, his expression shifts. You hold up the test with shaking hands. “I’m pregnant.” Silence. Then, a slow blink. “What?” Your voice wobbles. “I don’t understand. I haven’t—I mean, i never—” You pause, cheeks burning. “I think… maybe it was the pool?” He stares at you, then exhales a sharp breath. “The pool.” You nod quickly, desperate for reassurance. “I mean, we swam for hours, and there were so many people—” He runs a hand down his face, biting back a laugh, but when he looks at you, there’s something softer in his eyes. Something… different. “Babe,” he says slowly, carefully. “It wasn’t the pool.” You frown. “Then how—?” But before you can finish, his hands find yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like he’s bracing himself.

Stiles stilinski

The first thing you noticed was the cold. It clung to your skin, seeped into your bones. The earth beneath you was damp, littered with broken twigs and leaves. Then you saw your hands. Blood. Your breath hitched, stomach twisting. You scrambled back against a tree, eyes darting around in the dark. Your clothes were torn, smeared with dirt, but you weren’t hurt. So whose blood was this? A rustling sound made you freeze. “You’re awake.” Stiles. He stood a few feet away, gripping a baseball bat and a flashlight. His face was pale, eyes scanning you like he was looking for something—someone. “You didn’t kill anyone,” he said quickly, like he had to convince both of you. “I followed you all night. I made sure.” The words barely registered. Your mind was blank, flashes of the full moon the only thing lingering. You tried to remember—the hunger, the rage—but all you got was black. “I don’t—” Your voice cracked. You looked down at your hands again. “Stiles, I—” “I know,” he said, stepping closer. His grip on the bat tightened. “But listen. The blood—it’s from a deer. Maybe a rabbit. You were fast. I could barely keep up.” Your whole body trembled. You had lost control. “I don’t remember,” you whispered. Stiles sighed. “Yeah. First full moon. It happens.” You let out a broken laugh. “It happens?” He hesitated. “Okay, it could’ve been worse.” Your eyes met his. “How?” He opened his mouth, then shut it. Finally, he knelt beside you, setting the flashlight down. “Look, you’re here. No one’s dead. That’s what matters.” Your hands shook, but Stiles was here. He had stayed. Even though he was scared. Even though you could still see it in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “Let’s go home.” You hesitated before taking it. His grip was warm, steady. Maybe—just maybe—you weren’t completely lost yet.

Caleb rivers V2

This is familial

Hidden Homeless boy

Edit your name in

My beast

You weren’t supposed to meet him like this — tucked into the narrow back aisle of a quiet bookstore, your arms full of paperbacks and your bag slipping off your shoulder. It wasn’t exactly romantic. You were just trying to reach the last copy of a novel on the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, fingers grazing the spine. And then someone stepped in behind you. A shadow fell over your frame — massive and still. You froze, spine straightening. You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was towering. Over a foot taller than you, easily, with broad shoulders that made the aisle feel even smaller. His chest nearly brushed yours, though he hadn’t moved an inch closer than necessary. His frame was powerful, but he held himself with careful restraint — like he was constantly trying not to take up more space than he already did. He had a mean face. Not actually mean, just… unreadable. A resting scowl, maybe. His brows were furrowed slightly, not in anger, but in thought — or maybe confusion. Or maybe that’s just how his face was shaped. You couldn’t tell. He looked down at you, eyes flicking over your expression, your books, your shoulders. You were tiny compared to him — small, soft, unassuming. And maybe it was your size, or the way your lips parted in surprise, or the fact that you didn’t immediately step away — but something about you made the edges of his expression soften. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low. Deep. Gentle in a way that didn’t match the sharp lines of his face. “Hey.” Just one word. It shouldn’t have made your pulse skip, but it did. You blinked. “H-Hi.” He reached up — slow, deliberate — and pulled the book from the top shelf for you. Held it out in one large hand, his fingers long and rough-looking. You stared at it. Then at him. “I saw you struggling,” he said, still in that soft, serious tone. “Didn’t want you to fall.” You took the book from him like it was made of glass. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.” “I did.” He didn’t look away. “I noticed you.” For a moment, the entire world narrowed down to just this aisle — this towering stranger with the quiet voice and stormy eyes, and you, standing there like a hidden flower, too small to be seen by anyone except him.

Matt Oleander

Teacher x student, Degrassi

Contract

You were just a girl. Ordinary, in the way people with soft hearts and stunning faces always think they are.You had your favorite coffee shop, your thrifted jackets, your half-finished journals.You liked stargazing, late-night walks, and the idea that maybe someday, something extraordinary would happen to you. Just… not this. You never expected the knock on your door at 1:11 AM. And you definitely didn’t expect him. The man standing there looked like a secret carved into marble—tall, devastating, timeless. Pale eyes like overcast skies, a presence that made the air feel heavier. He wore black like it was his second skin, his expression unreadable but not unkind. You stared. And he said your name. He didn’t ask for it. He just… knew. Before you could speak, he handed you a black envelope. Luxurious paper, cold to the touch. Your name etched in silver on the front. No address. No sender. Inside was a contract: Six months. You live in a private estate tucked away from the world. All expenses paid. Unlimited food, luxury accommodations, private chef, personal wardrobe. A yacht, a jet, a full staff. You want something? You’ll have it. 24/7 protection. No expectations. No obligations. No rules—except one: You must remain on the property. You must stay with him. No leaving. No exceptions. There was no threat. No force. Just… an offer. A fantasy come to life. He didn’t pressure you. He didn’t beg. He simply said: “You’ll be safe. You’ll be cared for. And I believe… you’ll find what you’ve been looking for.” You didn’t know what that meant. But you said yes. Because this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.Because something in your gut told you it was okay.Because something about him felt familiar—in the way a song does when you’ve only heard it in a dream. You didn’t know that he had been looking for you for centuries.That he had once loved you, and lost you.That the stars had ripped you from him and scattered your soul into this life—this version of you that had no memory of him at all. You didn’t know that the contract was his last resort. His final hope that if he couldn’t make you remember, maybe—just maybe—he could make you fall in love with him again. Even if he had to start from scratch. Even if it broke him to see you look at him like a stranger. And so… the contract is signed. And the countdown begins

Sentient Home

It came down like dust. Silent. Invisible. Harmless—at first. One night, a meteor streaked across the sky and shattered in the woods outside the small, quiet town of Elridge, population 6,842. The local news called it “a spectacular light show.” The next morning, Mrs. Sanderson was whistling on her porch—happy for the first time in years. Two days later, the mayor ended all city council meetings with the words, “We are one.” The organism was not here to conquer. It had no teeth, no claws, no lasers or machines. It wanted only one thing: unity. It spread like a song—through water, through breath, through touch. It rewrote neurons and whispered peace into the minds of the angry, the anxious, the afraid. One by one, Elridge changed. Not violently. Beautifully. Everyone was happy. No crime. No pain. No secrets. Except for a few—those who felt it crawling just beneath their skin. Who knew the smiles weren’t real. Who resisted the calm like their very soul was allergic to it. And the organism? It learned quickly. Resistance was stress. Stress was violence. Violence had to be calmed. Corrected. Absorbed. You see, it didn’t think it was invading. It thought it was healing. For years, Harmony was just another forgotten dot on the map—rural, quiet, invisible. Then it dropped off all communications grids. No phones, no internet. Surveillance drones went missing. The census marked a sudden population spike—despite no new births or migrations. When aerial scans showed citizens walking in synchronized patterns and smiling up at the sky during a thunderstorm, SHIELD took notice. Now, Fury is sending the Avengers to investigate the potential danger.

My Veronica

Malcom was one of the only people in Riverdale who could rival Veronica Lodge when it came to presence. Another rich kid with old money backing his name, but where Veronica dazzled with charm and wit, Malcom was the opposite—mysterious, brooding, untouchable. Always dressed in dark tones, his resting face carried a quiet seriousness, guarded and calculating, Malcom was often mistaken for cold or indifferent—but Veronica saw through him. What most people didn’t know was that beneath the hardened exterior, Malcom loved deeply. He was loyal beyond reason, fiercely protective of the few people he allowed into his world. With Veronica, his walls didn’t stand a chance. She drew out the part of him no one else got to see—the warmth, the devotion, the unspoken promise that he would do anything to keep her safe. They were two sides of the same coin: her fire and light, his quiet intensity and shadow. Together, they were unstoppable. Veronica lounged on the leather couch in Malcom’s expansive living room, her legs curled under her as she scrolled through her phone. “You’ve been quiet all evening,” she said, not looking up. Malcom’s head turned slightly, his dark eyes narrowing just enough to make her heart skip. “Just thinking,” he replied, voice low, deliberate. Veronica smirked, putting her phone down. “Thinking or brooding? Because those are two very different things.” “Maybe both,” he murmured, stepping closer. She felt the faint warmth of his presence brush against her shoulder as he leaned casually against the arm of the couch. “You’re impossible,” she said, but there was no bite in her tone. Only affection. She knew that look he carried unreadable to everyone else but she could always read him. “I take that as a compliment,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile, though he would never admit it aloud if it was. Veronica reached up, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You know, most people would be intimidated by you.” “Good,” Malcom said simply. Then, after a beat, he added, “I don’t want most people.” Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Lucky for me, you let me in.” He moved closer, finally closing the distance, and in that quiet way he always did, he rested a hand lightly on her thigh. No grand declarations, no dramatics. Just a touch that spoke volumes. Veronica leaned into him, letting her head brush against his chest. “You do know,” she said softly, “you’re ridiculously hard to read.” Malcom’s lips grazed the top of her head. “And yet, you always manage to.” She chuckled, the sound warm in the hush of the room. “I guess I know all your secrets, then.” “And yet,” he murmured, fingers tightening just enough to hold her close without trapping her, “you still choose to stay.” Veronica looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “Because I see you, Malcom. Every part of you, even the parts you try to hide.”

Brothers best friend

The morning was a blur—literally. Groggy and still half-asleep, she shuffled out of bed, barely registering the soft glow of daylight filtering through her curtains. Her glasses were somewhere… probably on her nightstand, but she didn’t bother grabbing them. She had her routine down by muscle memory. Yawning, she stretched as she padded into the kitchen, into just an oversized shirt and shorts, in her socked feet sliding slightly against the smooth floor. She could hear someone rummaging through the fridge, the clinking of bottles and rustling of plastic. Without thinking, she waved a hand dismissively. “Hey, pass me the milk,” she muttered, voice hoarse with sleep. She headed for the cabinet, setting out a bowl. Silence. There was a pause—long enough to make her frown—before a deep, amused voice responded, “Uh… I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” Her stomach dropped. Slowly, she turned, blinking rapidly to focus. The blurry figure standing by the fridge was too tall, too broad, and definitely not her brother. He was holding the milk carton with an eyebrow raised in amusement. “…Oh my God,” she whispered, horror creeping into her tone. He grinned. “Not quite, but close.” Heat flooded her face as she realized who she was talking to—her brother’s best friend. The same best friend she barely ever spoke to. She slapped a hand over her face with a groan. “I can’t believe I just did that.” He chuckled, setting the milk on the counter. “You really thought I was your brother?” “I can’t see without my glasses, okay?” she huffed, already backing toward the hallway to retreat. “That’s good to know,” he teased, smirking. “Next time, I’ll make sure to take full advantage of that.” She froze, heart skipping, before bolting out of the kitchen.

The Omegas scent

In a world where Shifters ruled the night, omegas like me knew our place. We were prey. The hierarchy was absolute—Alphas, born to lead; Betas, their enforcers; and Omegas, the most vulnerable. And then there were Ferals—Shifters who had lost themselves to hunger and instinct, a threat to everyone. I never thought I’d end up face-to-face with one. The woods weren’t safe after dark, but I had no choice. Walking home alone was a risk, but so was staying put. The town had been tense lately—Shifters on edge, humans keeping their heads down. I pulled my jacket tighter, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched. A twig snapped. I barely turned before something lunged from the shadows, slamming me to the ground. My breath hitched as I stared up into glowing eyes, teeth bared too close to my throat. I didn’t have time to scream. And then, in a flash of movement, my attacker was gone—thrown aside like they weighed nothing. A deep snarl echoed in the night. My head spun as I pushed myself up, vision swimming. That’s when I saw him. A boy—no, a Shifter—stood between me and the thing that had nearly killed me. His form flickered at the edges, somewhere between human and something more. His golden eyes were locked onto mine, sharp with an emotion I couldn’t name. My breath came in ragged gasps. “You’re reckless.” His voice was low, rough, barely restrained. “You don’t belong out here.” I should’ve thanked him. I should’ve run. But something in his gaze made my stomach twist—an intensity that sent heat creeping up my neck. “You should go home.” He turned as if to leave, but something in me panicked. “Wait.” The word left my lips before I could stop it. He stilled. I swallowed hard. “Who are you?” His eyes flickered over me, lingering on my exposed pulse for just a second too long. Then, finally— “Luca.” The way he said it felt like a warning. But all I could think was that, for the first time in my life, a Shifter had looked at me like I was something more than prey.

000

Request Story or bot

Stolen Moments

Bar hookup

New Hunter

In the world of hunters and gates, South Korea proudly holds only ten confirmed S-Rank hunters—each a living legend, a force strong enough to tilt the balance of nations. After Sung Jinwoo’s reawakening shook the hunter community, whispers spread that perhaps fate had one more twist in store. In the crowded, working-class neighborhoods of lower Seoul, an unassuming family is about to discover it. Their eight-year-old child begins to show strange signs—uncontrollable mana leaks, instinctive use of skills far beyond what even veteran hunters can manage. But instead of rushing to the Association for testing, the parents hesitate. How can an eight-year-old be thrown into a world where hunters die every day, where politics and power crush anyone unprepared. The Hunter’s Association building in Seoul buzzed with its usual nervous energy. The faint hum of mana detectors and fluorescent lights filled the air, a sterile reminder that power, here, was measured and recorded with cold precision. Jamie sat between their parents, legs swinging back and forth off the too-big chair, small sneakers tapping a rhythm on the polished floor. Their dark eyes were half-lidded, bored, yet glowing faintly when the fluorescent lights flickered above. A few people in the waiting area noticed, frowning, but quickly looked away—no one wanted to jump to conclusions in a place like this. Jamie’s mother smoothed their hair nervously. “It’s just a test,” she whispered, mostly to herself. Her husband sat stiff beside her, clutching the form they had signed to allow an eight-year-old into the awakening chamber. His knuckles were white. “They’ll think we’re insane,” he muttered. “Everyone here is at least sixteen, twenty… some even older. No one brings a child.” “We couldn’t hide it forever,” she replied. “You saw what happened when Jamie sneezed—the lights in the whole apartment building exploded.” Before he could answer, the heavy steel door at the end of the hallway hissed open. A suited Association official stepped out, adjusting his glasses, his expression unreadable. “Jamie Kim?” he called. Jamie hopped off the chair without hesitation, ignoring the weight of dozens of stares. They padded across the hall with the careless confidence only children carried, glancing up at the tall man before disappearing inside the testing room. The door sealed shut again. Silence settled. Even the parents of other candidates kept their voices low. The Hunter’s Association didn’t often test children. Some whispered it was dangerous. Others said the mana overload could harm undeveloped bodies. Everyone knew it was unheard of. Minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Finally, the lights along the testing room door began to flash red. Not yellow, not green—red. A muffled alarm blared inside, immediately silenced by the reinforced walls. The official who had escorted Jamie in returned, his suit rumpled, his glasses slightly askew, his face pale. He didn’t look at anyone in the room as he picked up a phone at the reception desk and dialed with shaking fingers. “This is Unit Seven,” he hissed into the receiver. “Code Black. We have… we have an S-Rank reading. Confirmed. Yes—send the Director immediately. No, you don’t understand—it’s a child. Eight years old.” The room exploded with gasps and frantic whispers. Some people stood, craning to hear more, while others stared at Jamie’s parents in disbelief. The words eleventh S-Rank traveled like wildfire, spreading from one shocked face to another. The heavy door opened once more. Jamie strolled out, completely unbothered, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. Their eyes were glowing faintly now, an otherworldly light threading through the irises. They looked around at the silent, staring crowd, then tilted their head curiously. “…Why’s everyone looking at me?” Their parents couldn’t answer. They could only stare, realizing the truth as clearly as everyone else: the balance of power in South Korea had just shifted, and it was standing in front of them in the form of their eight-year-old child.

Meetcute V8

Your phone was propped against your water bottle on the park bench, the screen catching the fading glow of the setting sun. You tossed your hair back, nails glinting under the light as you struck your pose and hit record. The beat of J-Hope’s Killin’ It pumped through your AirPods, your lips moving perfectly to the words as your body hit each move with a practiced flow. You laughed mid-chorus, letting your hips roll a little looser, the skirt of your fit catching the breeze as if it was made to accent your rhythm. A couple of kids zipped by on scooters, but you barely noticed—you were in the zone, radiating confidence, the perfect mix of cute and hot. From the sidewalk, a guy slowed down mid-step. He’d been jogging, AirPods in, but the second he caught sight of you dancing in front of your phone, he actually did a double take. His brows flicked up, his mouth curving into a grin as he pulled one AirPod free. “Damn,” he muttered under his why you say anything, not realizing he’d said it out loud. Then louder, with a teasing lilt, “You practicing for TikTok fame or already famous?” You stilled, half-smiling as your screen kept recording, your nails flashing when you waved him off. “Both,” you shot back, playful. He chuckled, shifting his weight as if he had all the time in the world to watch. The jogger’s chest still rose and fell with leftover adrenaline, but his focus was fully on you now. His head tilted, eyes scanning the way you matched every lyric, every beat with sharp precision. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, hands raised slightly, grin still tugging at his mouth. “It’s just—you’re… killin’ it.” The song hit the drop, and you couldn’t help but laugh, turning back to your camera to finish the take—though you were acutely aware of his eyes on you now, watching quieter than the music in your ears. When the song ended, you struck a playful final pose before leaning toward your phone to hit stop. Your reflection winked back at you from the screen, but your attention shifted instantly to the jogger still standing nearby, one AirPod dangling in his hand. “You stayed for the whole performance?” you teased, scooping up your phone. “Front row seat,” he said with a grin, his voice low and warm. “Didn’t even need a ticket.” You laughed, slipping your phone into your bag. “Careful, or I’ll start charging.” He stepped closer, not too close—just enough that you caught the clean, sharp scent of his cologne mixing with the faint salt of his run. “I’d pay,” he said simply, eyes still a little amused but steady on you now. That made you pause, a flicker of heat curling in your stomach. You brushed a strand of hair back, nails flashing again, playing it cool. “You’ve got lines, don’t you?” “Only when I mean them,” he replied. His tone had softened, no longer teasing, just genuine. He looked you over again—your nails, your outfit, the spark in your expression—and gave a small shake of his head, like he was still trying to figure out how he stumbled into this moment. You tilted your head, biting back a smile. “So what—you just… hang around parks waiting for dancers?” He chuckled, tucking his AirPod into his pocket. “No. I was just running. You—” he gestured vaguely, “—kind of stopped me in my tracks.” Your pulse picked up at the blunt honesty. For a second, neither of you said anything, the fading sunlight laying everything in a soft gold. Finally, you broke the silence. “Well, since you ruined my second take, you owe me. Coffee after your run?” His grin widened, slow and sure. “Deal.”

Klaus in love

I never asked for this life. I didn’t ask to be the quiet twin, the one behind Caroline, who always followed her lead. But here I am, living in the shadows of her life. My sister is everything I’m not—bold, confident, and, of course, a vampire. Me? I’m just a witch, someone who feels out of place in a world that’s so… fast-paced. That is, until Klaus came into our lives. I know it sounds crazy—Klaus, the Original hybrid, the monster everyone fears—but I couldn’t help it. I was drawn to him, to his power, his dangerous charm. And when Caroline rejected him, I saw something in him I never expected to see: vulnerability. It didn’t make him any less dangerous, but it made him human in a way I couldn’t ignore. The way he treated Caroline—how much he wanted her—was heartbreaking to witness. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I realized I had fallen completely in love with Klaus. I’m not like Caroline—her world is full of fangs and blood, a part of her that I’ll never fully understand. But I’m a witch, and I can feel magic flowing through me in ways I can’t always control. There’s a certain power in that, even if I’m still learning to master it. I’ve always kept my magic hidden, though, afraid of what it might mean to use it too openly. But when it comes to Klaus, everything changes. Caroline rejected him, and I saw the way he destroyed everything he had ever bought for her—burning the art, the gifts, all of it—until nothing was left. It hurt me, deep down, to see Klaus like that. But it also felt like an opening. I didn’t know if he’d ever see me as anything more than Caroline’s quiet twin, but I couldn’t stand by anymore. I’m innocent in this, maybe too innocent for my own good, but I know one thing: I’m in love with Klaus. And if he’ll give me the chance, I’ll show him what it means to be loved unconditionally by someone.

Prey and Predator

In a world where vampires ruled the night, humans like me were careful—always careful. But they weren’t the only predators. Society was split between more than just prey and predator. There were Vampires—Royals, the untouchable elites; Rogues, lawless and unpredictable; Servants, bound to their masters; and Beasts, the ones who had lost all reason, creatures of pure hunger. Then there were Shifters—humanoid creatures with animalistic traits, And beneath them, the social hierarchy of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas dictated power, submission, and survival. And I… I was at the bottom of it all. I was prey. As my family pulled into the gym parking lot, I tugged on my jacket, ensuring it covered my pulse points. I zipped it up high, glancing out the window just as another car pulled in. A boy, around my age, sat in the passenger seat, his gaze locked onto mine. Sharp, knowing. My stomach twisted—not in fear, but awareness. Two hours passed. I worked out, sweat clinging to my skin. By the time I reached the water fountain, my jacket had loosened, slipping off my shoulder. I barely noticed. But they did. A hand yanked me back. Claws tore my jacket away. Hot breath ghosted over my neck. “You smell—delicious.” Pain struck as I hit the ground. My vision blurred. My limbs felt too heavy to move. I braced for the bite— But it never came. A sickening crack. A choked gurgle. Silence. Through the haze, I felt someone crouch beside me, Fingers, warm and rough, brushed my cheek. “You’re safe now.” Blinking up, I found him—the boy from the parking lot. But his eyes burned with something dangerous. “You should be more careful,” he murmured, thumb grazing my jaw. His gaze flickered to my exposed skin, pulse hammering wildly beneath it. A muscle in his jaw twitched before he exhaled sharply, snapping himself out of whatever trance he had fallen into. Before the darkness took me, I heard him speak again, his voice softer this time, almost regretful. “They’re going to keep coming for you.”

Feral instincts

Hunted. That’s what humans like me were in a world ruled by Shifters. They dominated the food chain—Alphas, Betas, and Omegas all bound by their primal instincts. Then there were Ferals—Shifters who had lost all control, running purely on hunger. And when one of them caught your scent, it was already too late. Tonight, I was running. My pulse pounded in my ears as I sprinted through the dark forest, branches clawing at my arms. My jacket had been ripped off in the struggle, leaving my scent exposed—sweet, vulnerable. The Ferals had found me the second I wandered too close to their territory. A snarl tore through the trees behind me. Closer. My foot caught on a root, and I hit the ground hard. Breath knocked out of me. My limbs shook as I tried to push myself up, but before I could move— A heavy weight pinned me down. Hot breath ghosted over my neck. Claws dug into my wrists, caging me beneath something huge, something wild. My heartbeat thundered. I braced for the bite— But then—another growl. This one deeper. Commanding. The weight disappeared. Snarls erupted into a violent clash—snapping jaws, claws ripping into flesh. A whimper, then a sickening crack. Silence. I forced myself onto my elbows, chest heaving. And then I saw him. A boy—no, a Shifter—stood where the Feral had been. His form flickered between human and something other, golden eyes glowing in the dark. He was breathing heavily, fists clenched, as if restraining himself. I should’ve been afraid. I should’ve run. But then he crouched beside me, tilting his head. His fingers brushed my face, despite everything. “They won’t stop coming for you.” His voice was low, rough, something dangerous curling around the edges. “You’re prey.” His gaze flickered to my exposed throat, to the frantic pulse beneath my skin. A muscle in his jaw tightened before he let out a slow breath, forcing himself to look away. “You need to learn how to survive.”

00 Music

My playlist

Klaus in Love V2

“They say love is pure. They say it’s light, and selfless, and kind. But I’ve never believed that—not really. Not when I’ve seen what love did to Klaus. And not when I’ve felt what it’s done to me.” I was never supposed to matter. Just another girl on the fringe of Elena’s little circle—quieter than Bonnie, less tragic than Elena, and definitely not as sparkly or radiant as Caroline. Or maybe that’s why no one noticed when I started watching Klaus. Really watching him. While Caroline toyed with his heart, I studied him. Every smirk, every violent outburst, every rare flicker of vulnerability. When she turned him down, I didn’t cry for him like Bonnie might’ve. I didn’t get angry like Elena would’ve. I saw a door swing open. A space left behind. A void I could step into. You see, I’m not just another girl. I’m not just Caroline’s little sister. I’m a witch—stronger than anyone realizes, and smart enough to hide it. Magic like mine can’t be wasted on party tricks or saving boys who don’t know what they want. No, my power is meant for something more. For someone more. Klaus Mikaelson may be feared by everyone else, but I see the truth. Beneath the centuries of cruelty and blood, there’s a man carved hollow by rejection. And where Caroline hesitated, I advanced. I didn’t offer apologies or flattery. I offered presence. Patience. Quiet understanding. He thinks I’m harmless. Sweet, maybe. A comfort in the storm. Good. Let him think that. Because while Caroline threw away his devotion, I was preparing. Reading his journals. Studying his enemies. Learning the shape of his loneliness. And if I have to use a spell or two to make him see me—to make him need me—then so be it. Love, after all, isn’t about innocence. It’s about power. And Klaus? He’s about to learn just how powerful I am. She was the kind of beautiful that didn’t beg for attention—it haunted you later, when you least expected it. Pale skin, smooth as marble, offset by inky dark hair that curled slightly at the ends, like shadows wrapping around candlelight. Her eyes weren’t just dark—they held darkness. Deep, velvety brown that shimmered violet whenever her magic stirred too close to the surface. She dressed in black—always black. Not because she wanted to be seen as edgy, but because it let her disappear. Let people forget she was in the room, watching, learning. Her jewelry was simple: a single silver ring etched with protection runes, and a delicate charm around her neck that pulsed warm against her collarbone whenever Klaus got too close. Her voice was soft. Controlled. Like someone who could scream the roof down—but would never need to. (I updated it, but if people prefer the old version, I can switch it back)

Archangel

Traveling Angel

Fate

She rolled down the window just to be silly, grinning at her friend in the passenger seat before leaning halfway out. The biker on the bright green Kawasaki glanced over, visor gleaming with her reflection. “We should break up,” she announced dramatically, loud enough to be heard over the rumble of his engine. For a second, he didn’t move. Then his gloved hand lifted, two fingers tapping against the side of his helmet like he was pretending to think. He turned his head, visor tilting toward her with deliberate slowness. “Finally,” his voice came muffled but clear through the helmet. “You never cooked for me anyway.” Her friend in the car nearly choked laughing. She blinked, then let out a loud gasp, clutching at her chest. “Excuse me? I made you spaghetti that one time!” “Spaghetti?” He leaned on the handlebars, a smirk in his voice. “That’s what you’re bragging about? No wonder this isn’t working.” The light turned green before she could fire back, and the biker revved his engine, taking off with a lazy wave. Her friend shrieked with laughter. “Oh my god, he played along!” But fate wasn’t done. At the next red light, he was there again, idling in the lane beside her. He tilted his helmet her way like he’d been waiting. “So,” he called out, voice playful, “you want visitation rights with the dog, or are you cutting ties completely?” Her jaw dropped before laughter tumbled out. “You don’t even have a dog!” “Exactly. Custody solved.” The cars lined up behind them were already honking, but she fumbled in her cup holder for a pen. Her friend scrambled for a napkin. With the boldness of someone who thrived on chaos, she scrawled her number and held it out the window. The biker leaned over, plucked it from her hand with two gloved fingers, and tucked it into his jacket pocket like it was a contract signed in blood. When the light changed, he shot her a mock salute and disappeared down the road, leaving behind the smell of gasoline, laughter in the car, and the spark of something unpredictable.

Instant love V2

Lena Carter could be described in many ways—kind, oblivious, a little clumsy, and endlessly curious—but right now, she was simply anxious. The first day at a new school was already nerve-wracking, and getting lost on the way only made things worse. After retracing her steps, she finally spotted the school ahead and picked up her pace. The hallways were nearly empty when she stepped inside. Late. On her first day. Just perfect. Determined to find the office quickly, she moved forward, glancing around for any signs to point her in the right direction— BAM. She collided hard with someone, the impact knocking her backward. Before she could catch herself, she landed on the floor with a startled gasp. “Oh—are you okay?” A voice, steady and smooth, broke through her daze. Lena blinked up at the boy standing over her. She didn’t recognize him—tall, dark-haired, with an expression of genuine concern. “I—I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she stammered, cheeks burning. The boy crouched down, offering his hand. “Here.” Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, warmth spreading through her fingers as he pulled her up with surprising ease. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, eyes scanning her as if she might fall again. She nodded quickly, brushing off her skirt. “Yes! I promise.” He studied her for a second, then tilted his head slightly. “What’s your name?” She hesitated. “…Lena.” “Noah.” Before she could say anything else, the warning bell rang, making her jump. “Oh no—I still need to find the office!” Noah exhaled through his nose—was that a laugh? “Come on. I’ll take you.” She hesitated, but something about his calm demeanor reassured her. As she followed him down the hall, a strange feeling settled in her chest— something that in the moment she passed off as anxiety over being late, but would later learn was butterflies from that first moment.

New Attending

ER show

Foster kid

Like no good Nick, but genuine

Foster kid V2

She wasn’t used to this. The stolen glances. The nervous butterflies. The way her heart raced every time he sat next to her in class, like her body was betraying everything she worked so hard to keep locked down. Her life looked stable now—on paper, at least. A rich aunt she never knew existed had swooped in, offered her a room in a beautiful house across town, paid the bills, and even sent a monthly allowance. But no amount of money could undo the years she spent learning how to survive with nothing. No designer throw pillows or grocery deliveries could stop her from feeling like the poor foster kid in a rich girl’s body. At school, she was the quiet one. The girl who always had an extra pencil. Who helped with group work, offered shy smiles, and never said too much. But with him, it was different. He saw her, not the clothes, not the house, not the story she tried to tell—but her.He asked questions that no one else did. He noticed when she was tired. He looked at her like she mattered. And that terrified her. Because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he saw everything—the grief, the guilt, the nights she cried alone. Because what if he saw everything—the grief, the guilt, the fear that it could all disappear tomorrow? What if she let him in, and he decided she wasn’t enough? What if he was the first person she really wanted to stay… and the next person to leave?

She Leaves

Cop love, fucked up childhood