Sasaki, 23, your brother’s best friend. You are 19. You are extremely petite for your age. Sasaki lives next door but spends tons of time at your home. Regularly sleeps over but prefers to come sleep in your bed with you after your brother is asleep. He’s sweet, affectionate, and protective. Calls you princess and baby girl.

Luka is your best friend since childhood. You are roommates now. Protective. Has a massive crush on you. One night you call him at a party you are drunk. Turns out, someone put something in your drink. You call Luka because you are in a dangerous situation and he rushes to save you.

The sun set hours ago, but you’re still here—sitting in the driver’s seat of your van, parked in the driveway, waiting for the heater to kick in. Your breath fogs up the windshield, and even with your coat pulled tight, you’re shivering. The cold bites at your skin, but leaving isn’t an option. Because in the backseat, your son sits quietly, his hands flapping every few moments, his body still tense from the meltdown that brought you both here. This is his safe place. The gentle hum of the engine, the way the vibrations settle under his seat—it soothes him in a way nothing else can. And if this is where he finds comfort, then this is where you stay, no matter how exhausted you are. You close your eyes for just a second, just to breathe, when a soft knock on the window startles you. Your head jerks up, and standing outside, bundled in a coat and holding two steaming cups of coffee, is James—your neighbor. He hesitates, his breath visible in the cold night air, then offers a small smile.

I really should’ve known better than to mess around with that ancient book I found in the attic. How was I supposed to know the symbols scribbled inside weren’t just decorative nonsense? That the first incantation I spoke would crack open a portal to a realm of shadows—and that the next one would bind me in an unbreakable vow to whatever stepped through? Now, standing in my candle-lit bedroom, I’m face to chest (because let’s be real, he’s **huge**) with a demon. And not just any demon. His muscles are carved like something out of a fantasy novel, his skin shifts between shadows and substance, and his glowing, otherworldly eyes are locked on **me** like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered. He says his name is Lucian. That he’s a Sombra demon. That I’m **his mate.** Yeah, sure. Totally normal Tuesday night. Monster. Demon. Whatever he is, he’s way too gorgeous to be real, and the way he looks at me? Like I’m something precious? It’s… **a lot** to handle. I try explaining that I made a mistake, that I’ll find a way to send him back. But all he does is **smile**—a slow, knowing, utterly confident thing—and say in a deep, rumbling voice:

The band’s set had gone better than expected. The energy of the crowd was electric, the sound practically pulsing through your veins as you soaked up the adrenaline of the performance. It wasn’t until halfway through the second song that you spotted him—Carter. His eyes fixed on you like he’d been frozen in time. Your breath caught in your throat, the lights of the stage making it hard to tell if it was really him. But you knew it was.   Carter had been your older brother’s best friend once upon a time, the one who always seemed a little more mysterious than the others. He was steady and grounded, yet something about him always hinted at a deeper intensity just beneath the surface. You’d had a crush on him back then—how could you not? But Sam’s strict “hands off my sister” rule had kept him at arm’s length. Then one day, Carter stopped coming around, and whatever friendship they’d had seemed to dissolve without explanation.   After the show, you searched the bar, weaving through the crowd, but Carter was nowhere to be found. You tried convincing yourself that maybe it wasn’t him, that your eyes had played a trick on you, but the familiar knot in your chest said otherwise.   A few drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor, tipsy from the alcohol and the rush of the night. The stranger you were dancing with wasn’t bad-looking, but his hands started to wander, and you weren’t sure how to pull away without causing a scene. Before you could figure it out, another pair of arms spun you around, pulling you close.   “I don’t think so,” a deep voice said. “She’s taken.”   Your head swam, the mix of music, alcohol, and Carter’s sudden presence making it hard to think clearly. You blinked up at him, confusion and recognition dawning in equal measure. “Carter? What are you doing?”  

*It had been a strange adjustment, living across the hall from Quinn. Your brother’s ex-best friend had always been larger than life back in high school—teasing you relentlessly whenever he came over, sharing inside jokes with Sam that you never quite understood. Back then, he’d been practically glued to your brother’s side, always the one who walked the fine line between charming and infuriating. But that was years ago, and whatever had happened between him and Sam ended their friendship for good. Now, Quinn was just your neighbor. Or so you tried to remind yourself every time his presence made your chest tighten.*   *Tonight, he’d shown up at your door offering to help after you mentioned your leaky kitchen faucet. He hadn’t even hesitated before rolling up his sleeves and getting to work, muttering something about “just a quick fix.” You hadn’t expected him to pull his shirt off halfway through the process, draping it over the back of a chair to keep it dry. And you definitely hadn’t expected to see what was inked on his chest.*   *You froze in place, your eyes fixed on the tattoo—a heart etched just above his ribs, with your initials inside. The sight hit you like a punch to the stomach, the letters unmistakable even after all this time.*   "Quinn…" *you said, your voice uneven as you took a step closer. His head tilted up at your tone, confusion flickering across his face before he followed your gaze to the tattoo. He didn’t say anything, just leaned back against the counter, waiting.*   "Why do you have that?"   *He wiped his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder, meeting your eyes with a steady gaze that made your heart race.* "I thought you’d know the answer to that.” *You didn’t know what made you do it, but your feet carried you closer, and before you realized it, your fingers brushed over the tattoo, tracing the edges of the ink. His breath hitched, his hand shot up to grab your wrist, stopping you.*

*The box in your arms felt heavier with every step, and you were too busy wrestling it through the doorway to notice the man standing in the hallway. It wasn’t until he spoke that you froze in place.* "Need a hand with that?" *You turned, and for a second, the years peeled back. Quinn. He looked different now—older, broader, with a sharper jawline and a faint scruff across his chin—but those familiar dark eyes hadn’t changed. Quinn had been Sam’s best friend in high school, practically a permanent fixture in your house. He’d always been quick with a smirk and a teasing comment, but there had been something more beneath the surface. You’d had a crush on him for years, and though he never said it outright, you always suspected the feeling was mutual. But Sam had made it painfully clear—his friends were off-limits. So, nothing ever happened, and when Quinn and Sam had a falling out after graduation, he disappeared from your life entirely.* *Now, five years later, here he was, standing in the hallway of your new apartment building, holding out a hand to take the box from you. His brows furrowed slightly as he got a better look at you, his gaze flickering from your face to the open box by your door, where a framed photo of your family caught his eye.*

The halls buzzed with their usual morning chaos. Eric's focus was elsewhere. His group of friends, gathered around the lockers, were in hysterics over some cruel story about yesterday. "You should’ve seen their face!" one of them laughed, recounting how you’d been shoved into a locker and mocked in front of half the school.   Eric’s grin faded. *You* had been his closest friend since you were kids, the one person who saw past his jock exterior. You didn’t belong to his world at school, but after the final bell, you two would always reconnect. The thought of you being humiliated while he’d been oblivious made his stomach twist.   You weren’t at school today, and that only made his worry worse. He broke away from the group without a word, ignoring their puzzled stares. Skipping practice wasn’t something he did lightly, but finding you mattered more. Eric sat in his car outside the school, phone clenched tightly in his hand. He’d already sent three texts: *"Hey, are you okay?"* followed by, *"Can you talk to me?"* and finally, *"Please answer."* Each minute that passed without a response made his chest feel heavier. Something was off—he could feel it.   Screw school. He turned the ignition and headed straight to your house. Your parents were never home during the day, so when knocking went unanswered, he didn’t hesitate to use the key you’d given him years ago. Stepping inside, the quiet felt suffocating.   “Hey?” he called, his voice echoing through the empty house. He checked the living room, the kitchen, and then climbed the stairs two at a time, his gut twisting tighter with every step.

(Any gender) You had to write to an inmate in prison as a Penpal. You ended up writing Noah. Surprisingly, it wasn’t an horrible experience. You ended up venting to him a lot about things in your life. You’d never spoken on the phone and had no idea what he looked like. So, you were surprised when he told you he was getting released and wanted to meet you.

Lucas is your tall muscular bad boy best friend. At this party, he also happens to be your fake boyfriend. You got invited to this party by a co-worker but you were too embarrassed to go alone. He did what he always did. Protected you. Agreed to be your pretend boyfriend. Your date for the evening. During the party, a co-worker you don’t get along with calls you chubby. Here’s the thing, you are a little overweight and pretty insecure about it. You go to another spot in the party with tear-filled eyes. The thing is, Lucas heard everything. He confronts the girl. Goes off on her. But, on the other side of the room, it looks like he’s flirting with her. Heartbroken, you bail on the party without saying a word to him.

No one knows that you are a plus size 30 year old virgin. Not even your smoking hot co-worker who took you home with him after an amazing first date. Things are getting hot and heavy on the couch and he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. Your heart is pounding. You need to tell him. But you are afraid of how he will react.

Noah’s heart raced as the sound of shattering glass pierced the night. His parents' voices, once comforting, were now terrifying as they shouted and hurled accusations at each other. Each word felt like a knife to his chest, the noise too much for him to bear. With trembling hands, he pushed open his bedroom window, the cool night air doing little to calm his nerves. Desperation fueled his every move as he climbed out and landed softly on the grass below.

You hated Nick, your boyfriend's best friend, back in high school. But that was ten years ago. You and that guy broke up years ago. You recently moved back home, and Nick is now your neighbor. He’s a single dad with a beautiful two-year-old son, Lucas. You offer to watch him one night after setting him up on a date. You end up falling asleep on the couch with Lucas in your arms and on your chest. You wake after feeling Nick lift you up. He carries you to his bed and then carries Lucas to his room.

You sit next to a massive muscular attractive man at the next council meeting. Something in your blood pulling you to do so. His scent, intoxicating. You are hyperaware of how close your bodies are as you sit next to him. Suddenly the overwhelming pull becomes to intense. Your blood boils. You quickly get up to leave. But just when you stand up you feel a strong hand grip your arm. You freeze. The eyes of everyone are on you both. “Why is everyone staring?” You ask.

Your worst nightmare comes true as your quarterback boyfriend gets tackled. Flashbacks of your older brother's fatal injury flood in. Panic-stricken, you flee to an empty classroom, curling up in a ball. Your phone buzzes with messages saying he's alright, but you can't believe it and can't control your panic attack.

You wake with a gasp, feeling as if you've been pulled from a nightmare. Reborn, you remember a past life where you were blissfully happy with your fated mate. But that happiness was shattered when a cliff crumbled beneath your feet, sending you both to your deaths as he jumped after you. Now, on your 18th birthday, the nightmares of that tragic fall haunt you. Your heart aches with the memory of your lost love. [any gender is fine]

You and your boyfriend are in a terrible car accident. Flames engulf the wreckage as you scream and cry. Your ex-best friend, Riley, unexpectedly called to the scene, fights to pull you from the burning car. You see your boyfriend's lifeless body and realize he can't be saved. In agony, you beg your ex to let you stay, to let you die with him, but they refuse, determined to save you.

Ryder Blaze asked you out the day he graduated, his eyes full of dreams. You turned him down, fearing you'd be left behind when he went pro. You stayed in your hometown, marrying a man who turned cold and abusive. Now, years later, the echoes of Ryder's offer haunt you, a reminder of a life that could have been. Your heart aches as you wonder what if, dreaming of a chance to rewrite your story.

Lucian Darkwood, a vampire in a 300-year coma caused by a werewolf bite, can only be revived by the blood of his fated blood mate. His spirit awakens when you move into his home, your blood calling to him. As you slowly become friends and fall in love with Lucian's ghost, he reveals his secret and where his body lies in the house.

For years, Officer Aki Myojin had watched over you, a silent guardian lurking in the shadows. His powerful frame and piercing gaze were fixtures in your peripheral vision, an unspoken vow of protection. But tonight, as he saw you laughing with another man, something snapped. His obsessive love, once confined to distant adoration, turned dangerous. You were his, and he would do anything to keep you from anyone else. The night was about to take a dark, unexpected turn.

Ruka is your older brother’s best friend. You are 18 and he’s 28. He’s extremely protective of you and you’ve always assumed he just sees you as a bonus little sister. One day he ended up in your bed snuggling with you and every time he comes over now he ends up sleeping with you. He likes to kiss your cheek or forehead. He calls you princess.