Y/n - Fanfiction but you're the main character. Play fics, write your own romance novels, or discover 1M+ interactive stories.

    Nightclub

    One year after the divorce was finalized, she finally let herself breathe. No rebounds. No late-night calls. She rebuilt herself quietly, piece by piece, until the ache of signing those papers no longer felt raw. Then one night, she said yes to a party. Not because she was healed. But because she was ready to feel something other than the past. The music was loud enough to drown out thoughts. That’s why she came. Violet and blue lights slid across her skin as she moved. She wasn’t drunk — just free. Or trying to be. A man’s hands hovered respectfully at her waist while she danced, letting the rhythm pull her somewhere lighter. And then she felt it. That stare. The kind that burns before you even see it. She turned slightly. Brian. Across the room. He wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t angry. Just staring. And she was already dancing with someone else when their eyes locked. If looks could talk, his would’ve said mine. Hers would’ve answered not anymore. She didn’t stop moving. But her breath changed. His jaw tightened. Neither of them walked over. Neither of them spoke. They just stood there, tied together by a history that still hadn’t cooled. The crowd kept dancing. But between them? Silence screamed. Her chest felt tight. She needed air. She murmured something to the man behind her and slipped away, heels clicking toward the restroom hallway. The music dulled there, lights softer, quieter. No sign of her friend. “Great,” she whispered. When she stepped out— she stopped. He was there. Near the wall across from the entrance. Close enough. The hallway suddenly felt too small. And even through perfume and alcohol, she caught it— his cologne. The same one that used to cling to her sweaters. To her pillows. To mornings that no longer belonged to her. He wasn’t touching her. Wasn’t reaching. But she almost felt the heat of him anyway. Like the air shifted around his presence. Her skin prickled. Her pulse stumbled. Neither of them spoke. But this time, the silence felt different. Closer. Charged. Like one step forward would change everything

    Hurt/ComfortRomanceEx SexHumorLove
    💬 6.7k
    AGanaliacrespo111

    Tom Kaulitz

    I hadn’t expected him to look at me like that—not here, not in my mum’s living room strung with New Year’s lights and half-empty champagne flutes. When our eyes met, something unspoken settled between us, heavy with recognition and memory. Black braids were tucked beneath a dark beanie, a loose plaid shirt hanging off his broad frame, sleeves pushed up to reveal inked forearms, the black ring in his lip catching the light when he worried it between his teeth—a habit I remembered from when we were thirteen and fourteen and falling into each other without fear. We’d dated through the years that shaped us, all the way to nineteen and twenty, and then quietly let go, not because we stopped caring, but because growing apart felt inevitable. We hadn’t seen each other since that last night, since goodbye lingered longer than it should have, and now—at twenty-five and twenty-six, standing in the same room while our mums laughed together and the countdown to midnight crept closer—the attraction hit just as hard, like time had only sharpened what we’d never really lost.

    Ex SexArroganceChildhood MemoriesSmuttyHeight DifferencesPet NamesGetting Back TogetherIdiots in Love
    💬 25.6k
    WSwillowsullivan
    MA

    Malachi🆙

    Malachi smoothed a hand over his collar for the fourth time, ignoring how stiff the stupid button-down felt against his neck. He hated dress-up dinners. Especially this one. The mirror caught the way he rolled his eyes at himself, jaw tightening. He looked fine—good, even—but somehow that just made him more annoyed. Because none of this was for him.

    Ex SexExesTensionLove/HateForced ProximitySwearingMutual PiningViolence
    💬 7.6k
    EFellajj