Rec Room Fan Art Novels & Stories

Violet Harper, an actress, has just about anything going wrong in her life. That is until she's offered a deal that she can't possibly resist: pose as the long-lost sister of billionaire CEO Clyde West to fulfill his father's dying wish. But the moment she plays the obedient daughter, the line between reality and fiction blurs. The longer it takes Clyde to get infatuated with his fake sister, the more Violet is stuck deep into a web of deceit, torn between the role she is playing and the truth she's hiding. Told against a backdrop of clashing family secrets, taboo love, and lethal alliances, the choices Violet and Clyde make dictate the measure of their devotion to their own hearts-and one another.

"What do you f**king want?" his voice was warm against my neck, his lips brushing against my earlobe. "You," I breathed shamelessly. "I want you." "Do you know what it means to want me?" he asked, his finger trailing down my navel. I shook my head, shivering. "It means taking everything I have to offer. It means surrendering to my world. Are you sure you want all of that, tesoro?" I gave a quick nod. "Yes." **** Gabriel was given a task to watch Arielle—to protect her. What started as a duty turned into a habit. Habit turned into obsession until he began to crave her like a drug. Arielle never planned to fall for him—the man with the double identity. But with every look, every addictive touch, he pulled her deeper into a world she had no business craving.

My mother ran an adult novelty shop. One afternoon, exhausted, I crashed at the store to rest, only to end up accidentally trapped in one of the shop's new specialty beds. When our neighbor, Clarissa Hartley, stopped by to settle her bill, she somehow mistook me for the latest product... and actually started pulling off my pants.

Rosie, an introvert whose presence feels like serenity to Anthony. Two people with completely different natures, from two different worlds find themselves consumed by one other. Rosie finally feels seen, Anthony finally realizes what magic feels like. While they keep being pulled towards each other like magnets, they are kept apart by their own doubts and hesitations.

"Gemma, we agreed on ten years. That time is up now. I'd like to leave with Kira." "You know he never liked her," she added quietly. In the quiet of the coffee house, Josie Carr spoke with a bitter expression. She had lived with Graham Holloway for ten years—ten long years, and still, she hadn't managed to thaw his heart. It wasn't love that brought them a child—it was a night of drunken confusion. He'd pushed her onto the bed, dazed and careless, and Kira came from that. Afterward, he gave her a villa and agreed to let her keep the baby. His only condition was simple: the child must never call him father. Publicly, Graham remained a single man. "I will never marry you. Don't hold out hope. "I'll pay child support, but don't expect me to acknowledge her. That child doesn't exist to me."

Jessica Jane is invisible by design. Quiet, soft spoken, and almost painfully unassuming, she spends her days hidden behind oversized glasses and paint stained hands in her elegant city art gallery. To the people around her, she is simply a gifted but awkward artist, a woman who keeps to herself and pours her emotions into hauntingly beautiful paintings that seem to possess an almost unsettling depth. Critics call her work raw. Emotional. Alive. They have no idea how right they are. Behind the gallery walls lies a secret darker than anyone could imagine. Jessica's masterpieces are not created with ordinary paint. Mixed into every canvas is the blood of the men she chooses as her subjects, men she believes escaped justice, men whose cruelty mirrors the monsters that stole her childhood. By night she becomes someone unrecognisable. Elegant, calculated and merciless, hunting predators who believe they are untouchable. As her artwork gains international attention and a determined investigator begins noticing disturbing patterns surrounding missing men, Jessica finds herself balancing two identities that are beginning to collide. Because the closer the world gets to discovering the truth, the more dangerous Jessica becomes. And buried beneath the blood, vengeance and carefully constructed masks is an even darker question: Is Jessica Jane delivering justice... or becoming the very thing she has spent her life trying to destroy?

Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️‼️‼️ This is an EROTICA Collection, 18+ only. Do not read if you're below that age. --- "You’re so warm,” he muttered, his hands gripping my waist as I began to move. A shudder ran through me as the rhythm built, my fingers clutching his shoulders for support while I rocked forward and back. “Fucking hell… you’re so good,” he groaned, pulling me closer. I leaned forward slightly, my hands resting beside his neck as I held onto him. “You like that?” I asked softly, my voice shaky. “You know I do,” he replied with a smirk. I moved again, slowly finding a rhythm, my breathing growing heavier with each movement. His hands tightened around my waist as the tension between us grew stronger. “We’re just getting started,” he whispered in my ear.

From the time I was little, something in me was always a little off—I never listened to the whole story, only half of it. My grandmother called me a good-for-nothing who was financially burdening the family. She bought a little boy to be my younger brother and told me to take good care of him. I understood the part about buying a child, so I immediately called the police and reported her for illegal human trafficking. My father pointed at my face and cursed me for being unfilial, accusing me of cutting off his family line. I obeyed him, crept into his room while he slept that night, and used a knife to "cut off his lineage." My father screamed in agony. In the chaos, he accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the female lead of a melodramatic abuse novel. After ten years of marriage to the cruel male lead, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from abroad and was undergoing kidney surgery. He dragged me to the hospital and cruelly ordered me to donate a kidney to his precious first love. I nodded obediently, went out and bought a pig, and on the spot dug out the pig's kidney and handed it to him.

Three years after my death, Samuel Terrason came to visit my grave. When he saw the lilies blooming around it, his expression darkened. "What is this?" "If the stories are true, then these lilies mean she has found her partner in the afterlife." "Pull them out," Samuel said coldly. "Pull what out, sir?" "The lilies! All of them!" Then, Samuel bought the entire graveyard and ordered that every male be relocated. Yes, males. Even the dogs. "You're not seeing anyone else, even in death, Rachel!" he swore. "And if you try, I'll come find you when I'm dead, too! Not even death can separate us. Just wait for me!"

The first time I met him, he was lying in the recovery room after surgery, looking weak and lifeless. But strangely, my heart skipped in a way I hadn't felt in three years. I tried to act professional, but every time I stood beside him to check his vital signs or give his medications, my heart reacted in ways I couldn't explain. I couldn't even look him in the face without feeling shy. One small moment led to another until I finally gathered the courage to ask him for his number. But as his recovery improved and his discharge day approached, I couldn't stop asking myself one question: Would our story end at the hospital, or was this just the beginning?