Dirtiest Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Even so, the Russian thought it wise to let sleeping dogs lie and was doing her best to continue on as if nothing ever happened. “Come on, don’t cry,” Fiana coaxed. “I hate it when you cry.” She wiped her lover’s tears with her sleeve. “Awe honey. I know it’s been rough lately. I took longer than normal to get my act together and you don’t need to tell me what a bear I’ve been. I know how bad I was. It’s just... this... this one was extra tough. I mean writing about men and their fantasies. What the fuck do I know about that? What kind of an assignment was that anyway? Who the fuck cares about their fantasies? It was an ass kicker for me and I know I took it out on you. I know I did and... a

Caleb keeps on entertaining his fans which are ninety-five percent female, or maybe he doesn't care enough to get me. “Are you okay, ma’am?” A security guard grabs the door and lends me a hand. I blink back tears and force a smile. “Yeah, thanks.” I don't take his hand, cautious not to create juicy headlines for hungry blogs. ‘A GUARD SAVES THE KNIGHT’S GIRL! FAME-DRUNK HARPER WON’T LEAVE CALEB EVEN IF HE TREATS HER LIKE TRASH!’ Or worse still; CALEB ABANDONS HIS GIRLFRIEND FOR HIS FANS. HAS HE REALLY BEEN SHITTY?!’

Be honest, what’s the worst, filthiest thing you’ve ever done for money? I’ll give you a minute to think about that. Think very closely… Great, now I’ll tell you what mine is… sex. Filthy dirty sex where I was used like a whore and worse; it wasn’t even by a man. It was a woman. A powerful, rich woman who turned out to be exactly the kind of dirty fantasy my body had been craving for years.

Immediately I say this, the room goes very quiet. I can still hear the clink of bottles, and the shifting of bodies on the couch, but no one is laughing anymore. Why though, it was a dare they gave me----- "Tell your deepest fantasy." Why are they all so quiet now? This is embarrassing. “I…” I try to chuckle, but it comes out as a strangled sound. "It's... just a fantasy.” Still no one says anything in reply and just stare at me awkwardly. Finally, my best friend clears her throat, "Okay... who's up for the next dare?"

“Make out. Both of you. And don’t be quiet. Tell each other what dirty little sluts you are.” Sophia smiled and pulled me close. Our wet bodies pressed together, breasts rubbing, as we kissed deeply. Our tongues slid against each other, the kiss turning sloppy and hungry. “I’m such a filthy slut,” Sophia whispered against my lips. “Letting two men use my holes while my best friend watches.” I moaned softly, grinding against her thigh. “I’m worse. I’m a professor who fucks her student and begs for more. Such a desperate cock-hungry whore.”

~ Linda ~ I just found out my husband is fucking a Gen Z baddie and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m in bed beside him, scrolling through his phone with tears running down my face. He sleeps like nothing in the world is wrong while my whole body shakes with the betrayal pressed against my palm. “Your wife could never.” “Can’t stop thinking about your dick in my hole.” “When will she be gone?” One dirty message after another, her tongue-out selfies and videos glowing back at me. He didn’t even bother to hide it.

“From the very first weekend you moved in. You were prancing around in those tiny sleep shorts that barely covered your ass. I jerked off in the shower at least three times that week imagining spreading your legs and burying my face in your pussy. Kept telling myself it was wrong but fuck, the fantasy wouldn’t leave me alone.” I laughed and playfully slapped his chest before reaching over to the coffee table to grab the bowl of snacks. “We’re both terrible people. Here, open your mouth.” I fed him a piece of chocolate and took one for myself, the sweetness mixing with the dirty feeling still buzzing between my legs.

This was the place where dirty daddies told you exactly how to finger your dripping cunt on camera, how to spread your asshole wide and show them how tight and pink it was, how to slap your swollen clit until your legs shook and you were begging like a pathetic slut. They made you do all kinds of nasty shit live, moaning their names, stuffing both your holes with toys, and they tipped heavy when you got even filthier, when you spread wider, when you fucked yourself harder and showed them exactly how messy your cum looked dripping down your thick thighs in long shiny strings. This particular “DADDYHUGECOCK” was the filthiest one yet. Even though I had never seen him, I had spent weeks imagini

The video on the screen has looped back to my own face mid-chorus, mouth shaping the word *devil* over a photo of Rafael’s smile. Dante taps the space bar. The room goes silent. “So,” I say. “You’ve seen my fanfiction.” His jaw tightens. “That is not your fanfiction,” he says. “It’s a revisionist history starring a man who didn’t pay your freedom price.” “Our marriage certificate doesn’t make you a better man than him,” I shoot back. “Just a richer one.” “Maybe,” he says. “But it does make me the one who has to manage the fallout when the world decides you belong to someone else.”

My legs felt like they'd give out. And then my brain started working again. What the fuck just happened? I let my stepbrother jerk me off in a janitor's closet. No, that's not right. I didn't just let him. I wanted it. I ground against him like a dog in heat. I bit him. I told him to shut me up. What is wrong with me? He's supposed to be the rich asshole who ignores me. He's supposed to be the guy whose best friend fucked my girlfriend. He's not supposed to make me feel like this. Like I'm not invisible. Like I matter. Like? I'm something worth looking at.