Nine Sols Fanfiction Novels & Stories

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.

When Jake Gavingstone, CEO of the GS chain of department stores, lost his wife in a car accident planned for him, he shuts down focusing his energy on work and his twin sons. Now, after seven years, he is being pressured by his grandmother, who worries he would remain alone, to get a wife. He agrees to go on ten dates which she would arrange, in a bid to get an inheritance he had always wanted. Alice Singer is twenty nine year old young lady engaged to a resident doctor. She comes from a family where she is not wanted and his constantly bullied, despite trying her best to pay off the debts from her father's liver transplant surgery. She works two jobs and is still not able to pay off her debt. She decides to take a job as a nanny, even though she has a police record thanks to her stepbrother because of theft while working her last nanny job. She is hired in Jake's household as the nanny of the twins after the last nanny tried to seduce the twins father. The condition for hiring: You must be married or engaged. She gets the job as she is engaged and the twins opened up to her during the interview, and then some months down the line, she becomes unengaged. To pay off her debts and to finally be free of her family, she keeps pretending to be engaged, even when feelings awake between the boss and her.

"My professor gave me my first D. Now my next assignment is due...in nine months. You know when you meet your new professor, and he ends up being the same man you had a one-night stand with three months ago? Okay, maybe not. Let me explain. I hadn’t intended to sleep with my professor. I might be known as the impulsive, prankster daughter in my family, but I’m not insane. I just wanted to have some fun in Ireland at my sister’s wedding, and maybe lose my virginity, too. When I met Lochlann Gallagher at a pub one night, I couldn’t resist him. He was hot, Irish, and entirely set on seducing me. One unforgettable night under the sheets with him, and my V-card went up in smoke. Well, that night had one itty bitty consequence because Lochlann totally made my eggo preggo. And if this story isn’t crazy enough, Lochlann is not just my baby daddy: he’s now my professor and my advisor for grad school. Somehow we have to figure out a way not to reveal this rapidly gestating secret while resisting the explosive attraction between us. Except there’s just one more complication to this story: I think I’m totally falling for my baby daddy. Oopsie daisy."

“How long have we been mates?” Aidan barked. “Four weeks,” I cried, tears rolling down my face and neck. “And how many times were we intimate, Tara?” My lungs tightened in my chest as I whispered. “Once.” “And we were being safe, so why do you think this lie would stick?” Venom dripped from his next words. “Get out of my life because the next time you show up, I will kill you.” ***** It wasn’t exactly a one-night stand, but the possibility of a pregnancy was almost non-existent even though he was my mate. When I mustered the courage to break the news to Aidan Graham, the father, he denied me. He severed our bond and plotted my death, and my only option was to run. Nine years later, my daughter walks into my office with a man, and the scent I recognize all too well fills my lungs. She says. “Mommy! I found you this handsome man!” The match my baby girl just made for me…is to my ex Alpha mate. I have been broken in the past, so how do I make this work for my daughter? Can I still try even when Aidan ropes us into a web of secrets, deceit, and brings me to a past I wished to bury forever? The plot twists are bound to make you ask… “Wait…What. The. Heck??” So, read on!!

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my wife handed me a divorce agreement that was valid for seven days. She had fallen for a male intern at her company who was seven years younger than her. She wanted to experience what she called a proper romance with him, one that would last exactly seven days. On the first day, they booked an entire private cinema and made love to each other from the entrance to their seats. On the second day, they went to the seaside to set off fireworks, and the light spread across half the skyline of Veyron. On the fifth day, the intern burst into an art exhibition I hosted and cried in front of the entire press. He accused me of coming between them. That same evening, the story of a rising painter becoming a homewrecker for love reached the top of the trending searches, and the hate comments poured in. On the sixth day, my wife apologized to me on the intern’s behalf, and his punishment was a three‑day ban from shopping. On the seventh day, my wife finally sensed something was wrong. She called me ninety‑nine times and reminded me that we were supposed to reconcile the next day. I replied with a single “okay” and quietly told my assistant to arrange for my luggage to be shipped out. What she did not know was that seven days earlier, I had already made plans to go abroad to continue my studies. This time, I was done playing her game.

He whispered her name nine hundred and ninety-nine times in his sleep. Never mine. For five years, I gave everything to Vincent Bonanno—the heir to one of the most powerful mafia dynasties in Europe. I turned his house into a home, remembered every careless detail he let slip, even abandoned my dream of becoming an artist—believing that one day, he would finally choose me. But whenever Alessia appeared, his loyalty bent toward her. The night boiling fondue scarred my arms, he rushed to shield her from a scratch that barely reddened her skin. In public, his gaze never stayed with me—it drifted to her. I was the wife on paper, but never in truth. So I walked away. With nothing but a suitcase, divorce papers he signed without noticing, and a secret I never planned to share—three months pregnant. He discovered too late. The divorce was real. The clinic file was real. And by the time he realized, I had vanished. Now the man who once ruled cities with cold power is tearing the world apart to find us. He has soldiers, money, and a thousand apologies he never gave when I was still his wife. But I’m no longer the woman who begged for affection. I’m a mother. An artist. A survivor. The question isn’t whether Vincent can reach me. It’s whether, when he does, I’ll ever let him back into the life he destroyed.

My dad, Frank Stanford, was an Alpha. I, Lana Stanford, was his only daughter. The year I turned eighteen, he told me to choose a mate from the nine werewolf warriors he had taken in. I avoided Simon Eaton, the one I used to be obsessed with. In my previous life, I was kidnapped by rogues on the very day of my marking ceremony. When they drove silver nails soaked in wolfsbane through my palms, I endured the agony and sent a desperate plea through our mind link. “Simon, help me.” All I got back was his cold response. “Lana Stanford, are you done yet? Is this another lame trick of yours? “You actually hurt yourself just to get me to come see you? You're disgusting.” I closed my eyes in despair. As the silver cage sank into the frozen lake, icy water filled my lungs. My wolf let out a final, broken cry and died with me. When I woke up again, I'd returned to the day my dad asked me to choose a mate. This time, the very first thing I did was cross Simon’s name off the list. Later, he stood in front of me with tearful eyes and asked why I hadn’t chosen him. I didn’t answer. I just looked at him strangely. “Simon, this time, I did exactly what you wanted. Why are you crying again?”

On the first work day after the holidays, Samuel Cooper, the department director, suddenly corners me at my workplace with an HR executive and two security guards. "Levi Young, you are fired! Now, hand over your work badge!" I frown instantly at Samuel. As I look at the growing crowd, I reply calmly, "Mr. Cooper, are you burning bridges now?" The Christmas holidays have lasted for nine days. But I'm the only one who has been working throughout the holidays. As soon as work starts after the holidays, Samuel wants to fire me right away. Samuel huffs coldly at me. "You leaked the company's core secrets! The fact that I'm not demanding compensation from you shows how kind-hearted I am! How dare you proclaim your so-called grievances before me!" "I… leaked the company's secrets?" I've been working at this company for five years. Sure, I've managed countless projects, but I have never made any mistakes as well. The sight of my stunned expression makes Samuel scoff in return. "That's enough. Cut it with the act! The security camera in the office has recorded everything clearly! On the night of Christmas Eve, you recited a long string of numbers and alphabets into your phone! What else could it be other than an encrypted message?" I'm left feeling flabbergasted for a few more seconds before realization dawns on me. The thing is… I was sharing the Wi-Fi password to a stray at the company that night!

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…