Novel & Cerita Real Person Fanfiction

I cleared my throat to get their attention. Ireal immediately breaks from the kiss when she realized she has audience. "Ermm... sorry if I interrupted anything. I am Maya Grey"the girl shyly says. "Oh my, sorry you had to see that. You are our new roommate. Please come in"Ireal says The girl walks inside cautiously and places the vase on the floor. "I am Ireal Angelis and this is my fiance Blake Harrison and my best friend who is also our roommate Azrael Infantino" Blake gave her a curt nod.

A slap landed on his right cheeks before he could finish. "You must be crazy for insinuating that I slept with a man to get a job. Owen I could take anything from you but calling me a whore? That's the height of it." She shouted at him. He stood up holding his cheeks. Both of them looked at each other with burning rage. "When a man as old as Gregory Johnson leaves his busy schedule and starts scouting for job openings for a nobody like you, it didn't occur to you that he wanted to go under your pants?" He asked without painting words

“They seem to enjoy it.” I forced a smile but my heart was pounding. “Yes. Children always love stories.” He stepped closer, and his eyes never left mine. “Nina, there’s something about you I want to know… something I want to reignite. Can we go beyond the boss and maid relationship?” He asked romantically. I felt a surge of panic but kept my expression neutral. “Sir, with all due respect, No. I’m just a maid trying to help, in the little way I can. Nothing more.”

I hate the fact that I have to pose like a blood slave, but if Nathanael wants to hide our relationship for some reason, who am I to judge? I haven’t even come out to my family yet. Gasping, I get the two women to look at me questioningly. Oh, my…relationship! I muffle my giggle as I bite into my brownie, grinning at Eleandra. “Sorry, it’s the calories pumping my dopamine.” Gilda laughs while Eleandra leans forward, squinting her eyes at me. “Are you fully human?” “Born and raised.” I puff my chest, proudly, and while Gilda cracks up, Eleandra reacts with an ‘ugh’.

**This story features reluctance and non-consent as well as sex between a stepfather and his daughter. It is rough and hard and deeply unrealistic. This is fiction and only fiction, every fictional character is over eighteen and it should be read as fantasy, entirely unrelated to anything remotely acceptable in the real world. Nothing about this is okay, but it is hot to read fictional characters experiencing it. Apparently I am procrastinating my real life by writing far too many pieces of erotica about far too many different characters. Enjoy.**

“To her. To both of us. I don’t know. It’s blurry.” Delilah lets out a bark of laughter. “Okay, great. Now you’re starring in your own fanfiction.” “It’s not funny.” “It’s hilarious. You need a therapist. Or a priest.” “I’ve been reading these books, okay? The kind where the guy is dangerous and obsessive and completely wrong, but the girl still falls for him because he sees all of her. And I keep imagining Professor Montelli with his hand in my hair and his mouth at my throat and—”

“She slept with the wrong man.” My mother’s teacup clinks softly. Elaine’s face turns white. “You were aiming for the heir, weren’t you?” I lean in, voice soft. “A last-minute scramble before the announcement. But he wasn’t the one I planned to marry.” “That’s a lie,” Elaine snaps. “Is it?” I tilt my head. Elaine stands, chest heaving. “You’re delusional.” “Maybe.” I smile. “But I’m also engaged to Dante Moreau, and you’re sitting right now in a pile of disgrace.”

“You said YES? To the human embodiment of a stock market crash?” I buried my face in my hands. “I didn’t plan it. He offered—connections, opportunities, security. For us. And I thought of rent, tuition, groceries, all of it, and—” Maya slapped her knee dramatically. “This is literally fanfiction. Fake dating the billionaire boss? I’ve read this trope a hundred times!” “This isn’t a trope, it’s my life!” She snorted. “Same thing.” But then her humor faded, her expression turning sharp.

Not a dream—a nightmare! When I remembered the way he kissed me, the way he peeled the dress off me, I stopped calling it a nightmare. It had been so real! I'd genuinely felt his fingers burning my skin. Like Pars, I apparently needed to release some energy too. Otherwise, I was going to end up jumping him in some secluded corner. If he touched me, I'd burst into flames. What kind of attraction was this? Why was this guy drawing me in? "Dog," I muttered angrily. He'd gone off and slept with someone else. And here I was, fantasizing about a man who was screwing other women.

“Is this a distraction?” “Is the relationship real?” I answered calmly. Carefully. “I won’t apologize for existing,” I said. “And I won’t be reduced to a rumor.” Some shifted. Some nodded. Some judged anyway. Alex spoke last. “This ends here,” he said. “You hired me to play. I play. My personal life is not leveraged.” Silence followed. Then a woman walked in. Vanessa. I recognized her from pictures. From stories whispered with awe and envy. She moved like she belonged anywhere she stood.