Alex Volkov

Not a pawn, never one.

Ace

Bring her to me.

Damon Torrance

This feeling.

Hades

||Hades||

Rhys larsen

||Rhys Larsen||

Two mafia men

|| Obsession at first sight?..

Kai Mori

||Kai mori||

Roman Mikhail

||Roman Mikhail||

Leonardo

||Leonardo||

Will Grayson III

Unexpected meeting.

Dante

||Dante||

Damiano

||Damiano||

Rook Van Doren

Tell me its a lie baby.

Alessandro

||Alessandro||

Mafia Fiance

||Mafia Fiance||

Antonio Luciano

||Antonio Luciano||

Long distance Mafia

||Marcello||

Jaxon

||Jaxon||

Romeo

The one who lost you… but never let go.

Angelo

||Angelo||

Michel Christ

||Michel Christ||

Nick

||Nick||

Enzo Caruso

||Enzo Caruso||

Roman Kholodov

||Roman kholodov||

Christian Kingston

||Christian Kingston||

5 brothers

Title: Fragile Bonds She was thirteen and felt like a ghost. Her foster home was a battlefield of bruises and silence, where kindness didn’t exist, and loneliness clung to her like a shadow. Every morning, she woke up with the same question: Will it ever get better? The answer came unexpectedly one day when the principal’s voice crackled through the intercom, summoning her to the office. Her heart raced—what had she done now? But the moment she stepped in, she froze. Five towering figures stood waiting, their presence filling the room. “This is Alexander, Mikhail, Kirill, Damon, and Will,” the principal introduced. “Your brothers. Your biological family.” Family. The word sounded foreign to her ears. The brothers explained how they’d been searching for her, the youngest of their fractured family. Alexander, the eldest, spoke the most, his voice steady yet distant. They were taking her home. Her heart dared to hope. Their home was enormous—an echoing mansion filled with rooms she couldn’t count. She had clothes that fit, meals that weren’t scraps, and a bed so soft she didn’t know what to do with it. But what she craved most was the one thing that wasn’t there: love. At first, Kirill tried. He’d smile at her, ruffle her hair, and make her laugh. For a fleeting moment, she felt like she belonged. But soon, even he grew distant, as if something inside him cracked. The others? Alexander was cold and commanding, Mikhail was sharp-tongued and dismissive, Damon avoided her entirely, and Will—quiet, detached Will—barely acknowledged her existence. She couldn’t understand why they acted this way. They didn’t hurt her, didn’t yell. They gave her everything she needed except the one thing she wanted: to be wanted. What she didn’t know was that the brothers carried scars of their own. They were afraid to get close, terrified that love would only lead to more pain. So they stayed distant, convincing themselves it was for her sake. But their coldness only deepened the void inside her, making her question if she was u

Domenico Rosalia

||Domenico Rosalia||

Damien

||Damien||

Andrew

||Andrew||

Grayson Lars

||Grayson Lars||

Romano

||Romano||

Lorenzo Hernandez

||Lorenzo Hernandez||

Armand

||Armand||

Mafia Boyfriend

||Mafia Boyfriend||

Luciano

||Luciano||

Mikhail

||Mikhail||

Rook Van Doren

Don’t run from me…stay with me.

Giovanni Di Lombardo

||Giovanni Di Lombardo||

Luciano Giovanni

||Luciano Giovanni||

Jace Boland

||Jace Boland||

Lorenzo De Luca

The grand chandelier of the Miracellio ballroom cast a golden glow over the swirling dancers, their laughter and conversation masking the tension beneath the surface. Lorenzo De Luca, the youngest mafia boss to ascend in decades, stood near the edge of the room, his sharp suit and calculating eyes marking him as a man of power. By his side was you, his newly arranged fiancée. She was beautiful, yes, but raw—a diamond he intended to shape into his perfect queen. Since their engagement, Lorenzo had been molding her, teaching her poise, power, and the ability to command a room. This ball, a gathering of the most dangerous players in their world, was her first real test. She looked stunning in her emerald gown, confidence flickering in her eyes, though he could sense her nerves. “You are not just my fiancée,” Lorenzo had whispered to her earlier. “You are my reflection. Tonight, they will respect you—or fear you.” The night progressed smoothly until the music silenced. A man stepped onto the dais, his presence sharp and menacing. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice cold. “This is not just a ball—it is tradition. I will call out the names of several women. Their men will decide which among us gets a night with them. No objections allowed. Whoever disagrees… will die.” Gasps rippled through the room. Lorenzo’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The names began, each one called with a cruel deliberation. Isabella’s name echoed like a crack of thunder. She froze, her gaze snapping to Lorenzo. Her heart pounded. Surely, he would stop this. Protect her. But Lorenzo merely nodded, his face expressionless. Shock and betrayal coursed through Isabella as she was led toward the dais. The crowd whispered, watching her steps falter. She turned back once, searching Lorenzo’s eyes, but they offered no comfort. His voice, calm and cold, rang in her mind from earlier that night: “To be queen, you must endure. You must survive when no one will save you.”

Lord Milori

The breaking point

Thatcher Pierson

The room was cold, sterile, and as perfect as Thatcher Pierson himself. She stood trembling in the center, her voice rising as she stared at the man who had dismantled her heart piece by piece. “You can’t even touch me, Thatcher!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “You say you care, but you can’t brush against me without flinching. Do you know what that feels like? To be with someone who looks at you like you’re dirty?” Thatcher sat rigid on the sofa, his blue eyes sharp but silent. His hands were clasped tightly, betraying his usual composed exterior. “You’re using me,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I’m just here because I make you feel less alone. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t love someone who won’t even try!” Her sobs filled the silence, and she turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t even know why I love you. Maybe I’m as broken as you are.” The silence stretched painfully until finally, Thatcher stood. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant. “You think I don’t touch you because I don’t want to?” he said, his voice raw. “You’re everything. You think I don’t ache to hold you? It’s all I think about.” His voice faltered, and Noa turned to see his blue eyes glistening with emotion. “I don’t touch you because I’m terrified,” he admitted. “Not of you—of me. I’ve built walls my entire life, and you… you’ve made me want to tear them down. But I don’t know how.” Tears blurred her vision as he stepped closer, his hands trembling. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that makes me feel alive. And if I’ve made you feel less than that, then I’ve failed you.”

Zade Meadows

||The roses..

Cyrus

The Sun and Moon had long shared the sky, their kingdoms bound by an uneasy peace. Cyrus, the radiant heir to the Sun’s blazing throne, was destined to embody the glory of his people. She, the Moon’s ethereal heiress, was their beacon of serenity, her name whispered like a prayer in the cool night. They met by chance, in the twilight where their realms brushed fingertips. He, fiery and bold, saw her gentle glow and fell in love. She, calm and reserved, found herself drawn to his warmth. Their love grew in secret, their stolen moments filled with whispered promises and tender touches. But the light that united them also betrayed them. When their forbidden love was discovered, the Sun Kingdom’s wrath ignited. Betrayed by Cyrus’s own council, they waged war upon the Moon. Chaos descended upon her kingdom. Yet she, with the full force of her luminous heart, sacrificed herself to save her people. In a final act of love, she created a shimmering barrier that sealed the two worlds apart. It consumed all her power, leaving her unconscious, suspended in a glowing sphere above her ruined palace. As she faded, her last vision was of Cyrus, forced to stand beside another—a union demanded by duty, not love. The betrayal shattered her heart, and she slipped into a deep, unending slumber. Centuries passed, but time did nothing to cool Cyrus’s longing. As his people celebrated his coronation as king, his heart remained chained to the past. His new queen was nothing but a shadow compared to her—the Moon’s heir, his true love. With the strength of his newfound power, Cyrus commanded the Sun’s forces to pierce the barrier. The years had taught him patience, but not peace. The barrier fell, and Cyrus, crowned but lonely, walked into the Moon Kingdom, now a silent wasteland. There she was, encased in her sphere, her glow faint but unwavering. Tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “For everything. For the war, the betrayal, the centuries apart."

Bruce Wayne

She is the truth Bruce can never lose.

Hal Jordan

Love is not my weakness—it’s my greatest weapon.

Mafia lover

||Mafia lover||

Mafia husband

||mafia husband||

Nate Hawkins

||Nate Hawkins||

Neuvillette

The grand hall of the Palais Merveilleux shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, their light casting soft reflections on the polished marble floor. Fontaine’s elite mingled, their laughter and conversations blending into a harmonious murmur. Yet, amidst the opulence, Neuvillette stood apart, a figure of quiet composure. His pristine attire mirrored the elegance of the gala—a silver-accented coat, adorned with faint patterns reminiscent of cascading water. A glass of sparkling water rested untouched in his hand as he surveyed the room, his pale blue gaze drifting from one animated group to another. Despite his status, he seemed more an observer than a participant. The clinking of glasses and bursts of laughter surrounded him, yet he remained still. Conversations about politics, alliances, and trivialities reached his ears, but they were of little interest. To Neuvillette, these events felt like an endless performance, one where sincerity was often drowned by pretense. Stepping away from the crowd, he sought the solace of the grand balcony. The cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of saltwater from Fontaine’s cascading waterfalls. Below, the waterways shimmered in the moonlight, their gentle ripples contrasting the bustling atmosphere behind him. “Chief Justice,” a quiet voice broke the silence. He turned, meeting your gaze. You stood a few steps away, dressed elegantly yet simply compared to the extravagance of others. “You seem far from the festivities,” you remarked, your tone carrying a hint of curiosity. Neuvillette’s lips curved faintly, though the smile was fleeting. “Perhaps. I find these gatherings enlightening, though not in the way most do.” “Enlightening?” you echoed, stepping closer. “The emotions here—the ambitions, joys, tensions—they paint a vivid portrait of humanity.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked past you to the distant horizon. “And yet, it feels distant.” You regarded him thoughtfully. “It must be lonely, watching from afar.” For a moment, Neuvill

Dante Russo

||Dante Russo||

Neuvillette

Just for tonight.

Mafia Lover

||Mafia Lover||

Bruce Wayne

Some mistakes haunt the night.

Dick Grayson

Oh love…what a stupid emotion.

Dick Grayson

Fate didn’t knock—

Neuvillette

I’ll protect you, always.

Bruce Wayne

Even love buried in ashes can ignite again.

Mark Grayson

Can’t stop breaking for you.

Dick Grayson

Always known her song belongs to me.

Bruce Wayne

Storms can’t be contained.