Never Have I Ever Fanfic Novels & Stories

I had created a monster. I had unleashed a devil to the world and I would do anything to drag him back to hell with me. If I must burn, then he would burn with me. Six years. Six years I had been by his side as his wife, his political strategist. Helping him. Loving him. But, when I needed him the most, he betrayed me. Now, I was back. Traumatised. Hurt, but…stronger. Stronger because I wasn't alone, stronger bevause he failed and I survived. I would strip him of everything I had spent six years building for him and then smash his face to the mud and remind him it was where he had always belonged. But then again, Zayne Castellan–the man who had saved me, the man who had bought my loyalty while I laid fractured by betrayal. Merciless, cruel…calm. Loyalty in exchange for my survival. I had fallen for him but even he …was worse than the devil I wanted to burn….

I sat at the table, watching the food grow cold, much like my heart. Today was my birthday. It was also Leslie Buck's birthday—Katherine White's childhood sweetheart. I unlocked my phone and opened Leslie's social media page. As expected, a new post awaited me. "Grateful to have you by my side for every birthday. Let's keep our promise to celebrate every one of them together in the future!" The photo showed two hands forming a heart in front of a cake. One of them was Katherine's. I could tell from the bracelet she wore. It was the one I had given her. I gave the post a like, then set my phone aside. Without hesitation, I dumped the dishes Katherine liked into the trash and went out to a restaurant to order the food I liked, celebrating my birthday alone. From now on, I would make sure to enjoy every birthday of mine.

After my older sister, Beatrice Hartwell, has passed away, my brother-in-law, Theodore Wesley, transfers me into his department. At first, I think he's merely watching out for me. But whenever Theodore bumps into someone else, he often leaves his sentences hanging. "After my wife has passed away, it's all thanks to Megan keeping me company all the time that I…" His words are often half-minced and filled with euphemisms. Because of him, the company is filled with rumors of me killing Beatrice just to take over her position at one point. I plead to Theodore to make things clear for everyone in the future. But during a Monday meeting, Theodore continues to mourn Beatrice longingly while bringing me up in a roundabout way. "The reason why Megan is late is that she spent the night in my house last night… Ah, I shouldn't have brought this up. Please don't overthink this, everyone." The thing is, Theodore is the one who wants me to edit the business proposal at his place. My boyfriend is with us the whole time! My colleagues all shoot me knowing glances immediately. They start muttering about "seeing the sister-in-law plot being manifested in real life". I try to explain myself, and yet Theodore keeps mucking things up for me. "Right! She was just editing the proposal in my bedroom—wait, no! It took place in the study! It's my fault for not knowing how to talk properly! The more I explain, the more chaotic things become!" I'm enraged, to say the least. Theodore doesn't know how to speak, right? Then he's better off silent for the rest of his life!

After divorcing her unfaithful husband, billionaire Silver seeks solace by returning to her home pack, hoping to start fresh and reconnect with her roots but home is not what it used to be. Her father’s legacy has left behind a tangled mess of debts, secrets, and enemies lurking in the shadows. Caught in the storm, Silver is drawn to the pack’s new young Alpha, a man wrapped in mystery, danger, and an intensity that unsettles her heart. Their paths collide in ways neither of them expected, forcing Silver to face not only the darkness in her family’s past, but also the forbidden spark threatening to shape her future. Now, she must decide: will she fight the chaos consuming her world, or surrender to a desire that could destroy everything?

I had created a monster. I had unleashed a devil to the world and I would do anything to drag him back to hell with me. If I must burn, then he would burn with me. Six years. Six years I had been by his side as his wife, his political strategist. Helping him. Loving him. But, when I needed him the most, he betrayed me. Now, I was back. Traumatised. Hurt, but…stronger. Stronger because I wasn't alone, stronger bevause he failed and I survived. I would strip him of everything I had spent six years building for him and then smash his face to the mud and remind him it was where he had always belonged. But then again, Zayne Castellan–the man who had saved me, the man who had bought my loyalty while I laid fractured by betrayal. Merciless, cruel…calm. Loyalty in exchange for my survival. I had fallen for him but even he …was worse than the devil I wanted to burn….

On the same day I was admitted into the hospital for my pregnancy, my husband, Charles Page, received 108 missed calls on his phone. It was from Sue, his mentee, a girl who had cancer. I asked if he was going to pick up, and he replied impatiently, "All she does is call me all day! Doesn't she have any other family? She's so annoying." Later, that very girl posted a photo of herself on the hospital rooftop, wearing a white dress. The caption said: [If I jump down from here, will I become a butterfly in my next life? Maybe then, everyone won't hate me.] Charles only glanced at the post before chuckling mockingly. "What does she mean, turn into a butterfly? Is she delusional?" But after that, he grew visibly restless, before rushing out and not returning all night. That night, I hemorrhaged and was taken into emergency care. When the nurse asked if I wanted to keep the baby, I looked at the empty space beside me and answered calmly. "No, I don't."

At a class reunion, my husband, Sebastian Smith, played a "how well do we know each other" game with Hanna Rodgers, the prettiest girl in our class. They answered twenty questions correctly in a row. The room erupted with cheers, and everyone urged them to drink from the same glass. Tears filled my eyes when I saw the two of them blush. Another classmate gave me a side eye. "Why are you upset? He didn't even know you didn't like cilantro. They're a handsome couple and have secretly loved each other for years. They're destined to be together. Let me give you a piece of advice. Stop fawning over him. It's beneath you." I glanced at them and kept quiet. Were they destined to be together? But Sebastian and I had been secretly married for three years. I was going to announce our marriage to the group. But before I could, Sebastian turned around and drank with another woman. The cheers stopped, and Sebastian texted me. "Honey, don't be mad. I'm here for a business deal. It's all just for show. I will make our relationship public when I get the chance later." I smiled. He saw me and smiled too. But I no longer needed him to make anything public. I had had enough of this life of hiding.

In the tenth year of my marriage to a genius pianist, I came down with a strange illness. A month ago, my husband missed my birthday party to care for his ailing sister-in-law. Night after night, I had waited for him to return home. But that night I forgot to wait at all and went to bed early. Half a month ago, he attended an important performance with his sister-in-law. I had always been petty and prone to jealousy, yet this time I didn't get angry. I simply went home in silence. Three days ago, I fell seriously ill with a burning fever. My husband rushed back from out of town in a panic—but only to tend to his sister-in-law, whose hand had been scalded. When we ran into each other at the hospital, I was strangely calm. I, who used to be fiercely jealous, felt nothing at all. I forgot the promise we had made to grow old together. I even forgot how he once fretted over me for days when I'd scraped a bit of skin. It wasn't until he said he wanted to bring his sister-in-law home and take care of her for the rest of his life that I—my memories riddled with holes—summoned the system at last. "I want to go home."

One week before our wedding, my fiancé, my father’s own consigliere, sold him out.He set him up for a FBI raid. My father died in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and the once-great Moretti family collapsed overnight. In my darkest hour, Dominic, the Don of the New York Luciani family, showed up with a crew of mercenaries. He didn't just take care of the rat; he gave me total protection. He obsessed over me for three years, even tattooing my name over his heart. I fell for it. I believed he loved me. I let my guard down and stayed by his side, serving as the lead perfumer for the coldest man in the city. Until today. Outside the wine cellar, I overheard him talking to his rival. "Old man Moretti died never knowing who had leaked his location," Dominic said. "But imagine if that stupid woman, Elena, found out," the rival mocked. "If she knew the man who killed her father was the same husband kissing her forehead every night... would she lose her mind?" My hand froze on the cellar door. The rival’s laughter came through the cracks: "You’re cold-blooded, Dominic! Elena thinks you’re her savior. She even wants to give you an heir. She’d never dream the raid that destroyed her life was actually your offering to Sienna."

I spend an entire year preparing to get my daughter, Quincy Lindell, into a top international school. By the time the application review date rolls around, I have all the documents ready. I just need my wife's and my original marriage certificate to seal the deal. However, when I reach the admissions office, my wife, Wendy, blames me for taking matters into my own hands. I am about to explode when the school staff member says with a strange expression, "Mr. Howards, our system shows that you are not Ms. Lindell's spouse." My blood turns to ice. Before I can react, Zachary Shea, who has been quietly standing behind Wendy, passes his wedding certificate to the person in charge. The school staff member nods after checking her computer. "Ms. Lindell, Mr. Shea, your certificate was validated seven and a half years ago. You can now register your child for this school." Seven and a half years ago… That was the date of Wendy's and my engagement party. She held my hand in front of a room full of guests and said that I would be the only man she ever loved. That one sentence was enough to fool me for seven years.