Dirty Fan Fiction Novels & Stories

"because I'm not that stupid. I don't want to get caught—" "don't you trust me?" you looked into his eyes, you swear you have put yourself in deep trouble. but this man is making you experience what is it like in reality instead of fantasy. I can't help to imagine how Ralph would say if he knows that I'm making out and about to had sex with my ex-husband twin. fuck, fuck Genesis. fuck the people around you. you didn't care anymore. you are sick of being a jerk anymore e. you can't take it anymore hu—

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.”

Then he discovered her fanfictions: wild, smutty, and detailed enough to keep him hard for days. Finding her suddenly in his private spa had been surreal. He'd stepped in just wanting to give her an unforgettable experience as thanks… but things escalated fast. She was bold, naughty, and shockingly still a virgin. The moment his fingers entered her walls, she was so tight... so wet. He wanted to take her right there and then, but the stakes were too high. At the peak of his career, one scandal with a fan, especially his biggest fanfic writer could destroy everything. Still… he couldn’t resist giving her that orgasm.

She uploaded one called: “The Fox and the Fire.” A fictionalized confession. A Dom’s slow surrender to a shadowy admirer. A figure who watched from the edges, sent gifts, knew her body like a map, and promised nothing but ruin. She tagged it: #fiction. #maybe. #dangerouslove. It was read 4,400 times in the first hour. At midnight, a comment appeared. From FoxGlove-44. “I love when you write about me.” Her hands went cold. Part VI – Red Ribbon Dreams

“Fucking asshole.” In a fit of anger, I grab the remote of my blind and hit the button. The motorized roller blinds hiss to life, a mechanical growl that sounds like mockery. I watch the heavy, charcoal fabric descend, inch by inch, erasing my shadows penthouse. Erasing the Dark Horse—A fucked up legend I'd made out of nothing. I suddenly want to be invisible again. I want to crawl into a hole and forget that I ever let a fucked up stranger see the darkest parts of my hunger.

She gave a satisfied chuckle, saying nothing as she awaited my answer. “I wouldn’t really say I planned it,” I started, moving over to my wardrobe in search of my nightie. “I’ve been having dreams recently about a man coming to my bed every night and having sex with me. From the start, his face his usually blurry. But by the time I get to the point of orgasm, the blurriness gives way to reveal Father Gabriel’s face. This has gone on for about a week now and I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. So I went to church on Sunday for a confession and it ended with him fucking me in the confession box.” “Hannah!” Lisa’s eyes widened with delighted surprise.

The kind of panic that made me want to set fire to the world, only to sift through the ashes for what was lost. Perched on a sofa clearly not meant for someone my size, I fanned through one of the thousands of books the male, Dain, had sent to the suite. Half of these tomes read like textbooks, while the others were packed with fiction and myth. There was no way of sorting between what might be real, and what might’ve been the illusive dreams of some ancient, long deceased scholar. I’d been seconds away from voicing as much when I heard a breathy little whimper, not unlike the one’s my mate had mate last night, sound from across the room.

"You are a monster. A manipulative monster." Damien let out a low chuckle that made my skin crawl. He walked back over to the edge of the bed, towering over me, and I could smell the expensive tobacco and the smell of our previous lovemaking on our bodies. "You want a confession, Sophia? Fine," he murmured, leaning down until his face was inches from mine. His grey eyes looked so terrifying now. "I have fantasized about you over ever since you started working for me. I have stared at your mouth during board meetings wondering how loud you would scream if I bit your lip. I bought this hotel suite knowing damn well there was only one bed."

“Better than those dirty stories you write in your diary?” I winked at her and saw the coldness in her countenance. “I only write, I have never really experienced them.” “What do you write about then? Your fantasies?” “Even better…I write about how I fanstasize other people having sex.” I was dumbfounded. “Oh my goodness, that is the horniest thing I have ever heard.”

Sanctum of Flesh, Citadel of Eldros The doors sealed behind Lies with a heavy, moaning groan of ancient stone making her flinch. The sanctum pulsed with heat and silence—a silence thick enough to wrap around her thighs and crawl up between them. It wasn't just warm. The air was humid, saturated with something older than scent: magic steeped in lust, pressure, hunger. The walls themselves dripped faintly with condensation, like the stone was sweating in anticipation.