Dark Fanfic Novels & Stories

"I saw the way your pupils dilated. I saw the way you bit your lip until it turned white. You wanted me to grab you then, didn't you? You wanted me to put you over my knee for staring at what doesn't belong to you." I felt Damian shift behind her, a warning growl vibrating in his chest. I ignored him. He was weak. He was fighting it. Me? I was embracing the fire. "I've spent four years dreaming about what you look like under these clothes," I confessed. "I've jerked off in that shower you use, imagining you were on your knees in there, soaping up my cock, choking on it until you couldn't breathe and tears ran down your face. I've imagined stretching you out on my workbench in the garage, usi

His face went through several expressions—confusion, surprise, horror, and then something that looked like amusement. "Chapter 10," Sebastian said. "The Night He Begged." "I can read the title." "It's very dramatic." "It's humiliating." Sebastian scrolled further. "The fans love it." Damian looked at his own phone. The comments were flooding in. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands. "OMG this is so hot." "I always knew the Iceman was a bottom." "The way he cried after? I'm deceased." "Can someone please make this into a movie?"

Or will loving Damian Vercetti cost her the last piece of herself she has left? *************** AUTHOR'S NOTE Hey, reader. Let’s get one thing straight this is not your sweet, safe mafia romance. This story is dark. Twisted. Obsessive. There are moments that will make you pause, ache, maybe even rage. Damian Vercetti is not your redemption arc. He’s power without apology. Possession without permission. And Isabella? She’s not the damsel she’s the storm trying to survive the fire. If you’re here for roses and candlelight, this isn’t your book.

I can imagine how hard his cock must be getting now. "Like you said, a touch is supposed to make the infected victim go horny in an instant, but you have been touching my V for more than five minutes and yet..." I shrugged, dropping my hands on the table. "I feel no darn thing. That means you don't have what it takes to please me, " I mocked. In anger, Damian slammed his Tumblr one more time and ended up shattering the glass. His drink came splashing out on his body, forcing Damian to groan at his own action.

A closer look reveals my bold sleek handwriting. ‘No. No. No…’ My heart skips a beat. What's worse isn't that I know I’m the owner of the card, but the writing on it. More like a request. ‘I saw a little dirty thing— No, a big filthy cock. Big and black… and god! It's one I’ve always dreamed of. And I want it… I fucking do. And I want it to fulfill my dark fantasy; I want it to rape me. No apology.’

If you found yourself drawn to the darkness—the kind of love that burns down worlds—the deeper lore, the dragons, the mystery beyond the ice walls, or characters like Lazarus and Sebastian, you can explore their origins in my other novel, The Last Dragon’s Enslaved Lycan Mate. And if you love powerful heroines who have to fight to earn their place in the world, and fate-bound romance, I think you’ll also enjoy, The First of Her Kind. If you want more—behind-the-scenes, future projects, Q&As, and a closer look into the chaos inside my head—you can find me on the gram @mfs_author Yes, I’m a bit of a controversial author with a knack for dark fantasy/romance. My love stories are edgy, to say th

Depends on how you take his character;)) Do check out my other book "NOT MINE" it is a dark romance and contains all sorts of things, you readers might love to read (evil grin). It may not seem dark at first but it'll fuck with your minds later. That book is complete.

I told him I wasn’t the one begging for distance every time things got real. The motherfucker left the next morning after we fucked for two hours straight and I still wasn’t satisfied. Trust me, the hours weren’t the problem—I just couldn’t get enough of it. He didn't grind my pussy as much as I'd fantasized it. He barely even touched the surface. What a waste! My fourth boyfriend didn’t even give an explanation. He just stopped replying to my messages after a night he called “perfect.” That night barely even beat what my hands could do for themselves. How could he call that ‘perfect’?

I paced across the room, my heart racing as the echoes of my last dream still clung to my skin. The furies. The whispered warnings, the icy grips, and the terror—they were becoming more real with every passing day. The eerie connection between me and the Underworld was no longer something I could brush aside.

I couldn’t breathe, my lungs refused to draw in a breath. Dante’s voice was quiet and dangerous, rough with warning as he said, “Because I missed you.” He directed a cold smirk at me as he added, "Little sister." _____ Hello, dear readers. I write Dark Romance- about mafia, bully, arrange marriage, obsessed anti-heroes that you'll always fall in love with. And the theme of this book is the same. But this is the first time I am writing a book with mmfm. And if you skipped the Introduction, please note, this book will be DARK, with various themes you might not be comfortable with.