Y/n - Fanfiction but you're the main character. Play fics, write your own romance novels, or discover 1M+ interactive stories.
Out Of His League
Hogwarts star Beater Mattheo Riddle has everyoneâs attentionâexcept you, the untouchable Slytherin Cheer Captain he actually wants. No matter how many times you shut him down, he keeps showing up, determined to win you over.
đĽ 130.4k
NANariijungkook (HelloTalk)
Jungkook downloads HelloTalk for one simple reason: to practice English without pressure. Using a fake username and no photo, he starts chatting with y/n, a stranger on the other side of the world.
đĽ 201.4k
Y/ria127Melhores amigas e um amor nĂŁo correspondido - wlw
Uma confissĂŁo feita no calor do momento, e o medo do que vem depois.
đŹ 13.4k
EMlunabellieYouâre So Cute, I Swear (jungkook)
It wasnât a confession. It wasnât romantic. It was a laughter in a university hall and a boy who said, âI love her.â Unfortunately, Y/Nâs heart didnât get the memo.
đŹ 8.7k
Y/ria127Every Room Knows Her Name
You are everything Slytherin prides itself onâand everything it fears. Effortlessly beautiful, razor-sharp, and devastatingly witty, you earn perfect grades while training as a professional ballerina, volunteering your free hours to teach children, and quietly taking advanced healer courses beyond the Hogwarts curriculum. On parchment, you are flawless: ambitious, accomplished, and impressive enough to satisfy even the most demanding pure-blood parents. The girls whisper about you in equal parts envy and admiration, torn between resenting your perfection and desperately wanting to be close enough to call you a friend. Every Slytherin boy wants her on his arm; boys from other houses try their luck anyway. The Malfoys, in particular, take notice. But perfection does not mean softness. You are ruthless, unapologetically rude, and utterly uninterested in romanceâat least for now. While Hogwarts watches, waiting for you to choose, you have far more important plans than becoming someoneâs prize.
đŹ 13.7k
PEyourfav_bishjungkook (blind)
For the past few months, youâd been spending nearly every day in your fatherâs hospitalânot as a doctor, but as a volunteer. It was supposed to be temporary. Something to do while you figured out what came next after graduating with a literature degree. Instead, it had become a routine you couldnât seem to escape: long corridors that smelled of antiseptic, quiet wards filled with half-finished conversations, and patients who learned your footsteps by sound alone.
đŹ 6.3k
Y/ria127