Funniest Fanfictions Novels & Stories

“So, you can expect lots of gossip when I return.” “Girl, don’t say that to an anxious person. You’ll have to send me reports daily. Hourly. Sh*t, I am already creating an entire fanfic in my head.” I laughed, finding it funny that she was acting so girly over it all, but agreeing that it was definitely a chance for a lot to happen. Either bad or good, I still didn’t know. I guessed time would tell.

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?"

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I heard muffled chattering , Raven glared at everyone and they were shushed. “First one is writing the story. It is about making an album about love. I know it’s been anticipated a lot from Mr. Kian to write about love. According to my maths,” he showed a slide showing statistical data, “ ninety people who are fans of Mr.Calloway have written fanfics about him. It means they fantasise about Mr.Kian being in love, and if we use this, I can say, there are more than ninety percent success rate of the album. Even if it is on a lower budget.” he was right. I looked at Raven, he looked at me with an expression that said that he was somewhat convinced of it.

His fingers moved faster, dipping lower to tease my entrance before returning to my clit, driving me higher and higher with merciless precision. “So fucking wet for me already,” he murmured against my mouth, voice thick with dark satisfaction. “My perfect, loyal fan… dripping just from my touch. You’ve been fantasizing about this for years, haven’t you? About me fingering you backstage like a desperate little slut for your idol.”

"Tell me the craziest thing a fan has ever done." "Well, that came out of nowhere." I chuckled, grateful for the distraction. As I turned to pull her into my lap, she straddled me, her dark hair kissing her chin and shoulders, taunting the living hell out of me. "Let's see, the craziest thing was when a fan broke into my trailer and stole just my jeans and black boxers, nothing else."

Deliberately forgot, but that's hardly the point. I grind my pussy against his hardness as he swipes my hair to one side. He buries his face in my exposed neck and takes a long sniff. "You smell like a real-life wet dream." Real-life wet dream? I laugh at my vivid imagination. Tens of women at work drool over Rhys Redmond, but I must be the only one filling up pages with fantasies of things that will never happen. If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will.

Now, they came to apologize when Alex had fallen from grace. However, those who once stood at the top of the world never cared about these comments. People generally enjoyed fiction. They liked to live their life as if they were in a fiction. Even before Alex retired, people had made up countless fan fiction storylines about him. When the match was live-streamed, many people would comment, "The King has returned" in the live chat, indicating that the three-year period had passed, and it was time for the genius to come back for revenge.

“Including the darkest one. The non-con fantasy where I chase you… catch you… and force my cock into my own daughter-in-law while she begs her father-in-law to stop.” My thighs pressed together instinctively. My clit throbbed painfully at his words. That particular fantasy had always been my most shameful—the one I wrote at nineteen with trembling fingers and a soaked pussy, imagining Victor as my forbidden father-in-law taking me against my will. Victor’s piercing green eyes darkened as he read the raw need flickering across my flushed face.

"Move, Kaelen. Or I'm telling Jax you're bothering me again." ​"Jax is busy," he whispered, leaning down until his lips were inches from mine. "And you don't want me to move. You want to know if I'm as rough as the stories you probably make up about me." ​"Get off me and stop writing fanfics in your head, you prick!" I hissed, even as my breath hitched. ​"Is that what this is? Fanfiction?" He smirked, his eyes darkening. He didn't move an inch; if anything, he pressed closer, his heavy chest crushing my soft one. "You don't want me to move and you know it," he whispered.