Rooster Teeth Anime Novels & Stories

#SMUT SCENE #EROTIC SCENE I stared deeply into his eyes, hoping he would stop me if he regretted it, but nothing—just an empty void. "My dignity is most respected, as is that of my child, Luci... Lucian..." "It's Alpha Lucian to you now; if I were you, I wouldn't cross me." He gritted his teeth, and I found myself swallowing hard. "Okay, Alpha Lucian Pascal, I reject you as my mate and Alpha. I'll address you informally and by your name. I shall hold no connection to this pack, its members, nor to you. I hereby free you from this hideous bond to mate with whoever you see fit and make them your Luna." I bit down on my lips, trying to stop the tears from spilling out, my grip tightening on my dress as I felt my legs wobbling from intense pain. But above all, I waited for him to come back to his senses, to ask me to stay, to apologize... "I, Alpha Lucian Pascal, hereby banish you from this pack and never want to see you anywhere near me or my pack. I also accept your rejection; you now cease to be my mate." Almost immediately, a gush of pain washed over me, and my legs gave way. I expected Lucian to save me from falling, but he only stood there, watching me. My instinct kicked in, and I grabbed onto the desk, trying to steady myself as the tears I was trying to hold in slid down my cheeks. Immediately, I darted outside, running as fast as my legs could carry me. I hate you... I wanted to, but it was clear: I loved you. I loved the wrong one.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

Fuck, look at you,” he growled, backing her against the desk, voice low and rough. “Sitting in my class every day with that innocent little smile while your pussy’s soaked for your brother’s best friend.” She whimpered as his hand slid up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher. “Tell me, baby,” he rasped against her ear, teeth grazing her pulse, “how many times have you touched yourself thinking about your professor bending you over this desk and ruining you?” Her breath hitched. “Too many…” He chuckled darkly, fingers teasing the edge of her panties. “Good girl. Because tonight I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me when you’re sitting in my lecture tomorrow, trying not to moan my name in front of everyone.” --- He teaches by day… and rules the road by night. Fleeing New Orleans was supposed to be Nirvana Hale’s fresh start. She was finally going to meet Adrian Cross; her brother’s best friend and the voice that had comforted her through her darkest nights. But the man waiting for her in New York is a stranger. He’s the lethal enforcer of a notorious motorcycle club, a man who treats her like a burden to be locked away. Just as Nirvana begins to hate the man she once adored, the world shifts again. On her first day at Rodrigo University, she walks into her lecture hall to find Adrian standing at the podium. In a crisp suit and glasses, Professor Cross is composed, brilliant, and completely off-limits. Now, Nirvana is trapped in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. By day, he's the teacher who refuses to look her in the eye. By night, he’s the biker who makes her pulse race.

I’d just set sail to escort the cargo to the border when a Category 8 typhoon warning suddenly blared. I steer the ship back in the direction of the harbor, only to realize that the ship has run out of fuel. The distress beacon has been dismantled, too. Immediately, I pick up the radio and call the maritime rescuers for help. As soon as the call gets connected, I hear my wife, Melanie Watkins' mocking laughter instead. "I've already rewired the emergency number so that you can never reach the rescuers. Have fun surviving in the ocean!" Her student, Darell Parker, is with her as well. "Remember when you made fun of me for not knowing how to swim, Clifton? Well, now you're given the chance to show off your swimming skills! You can swim all the way back to the shore on your own! You'd better not be as slow as the sea turtles!" The waves have almost capsized the cargo ship. If I can't get rescued anytime soon, I'll end up dying in the sea. I can only grit my teeth before pleading to Melanie, "No one can possibly swim back to shore! Help me call the maritime rescuers—" But she laughs coldly in return. "Why do you need the rescuers' help? Didn't you say one must learn how to protect themselves? Now swim! "If you think the waters are too cold, then swim faster! Maybe you'll feel warmer the faster you swim!" I give up on arguing with Melanie. After that, I head toward the cargo area with a blade in hand and get ready to sever the ropes tying the cargo down. Said cargo contains the ransom money that's capable of saving Ella Zimmerman, the daughter of Hugh Zimmerman, the wealthiest man in Starbury.

⚠️ Warning: Very explicit content ahead🔞. Contains raw and vulgar language, taboo/daddy kink relationships, centered on dominance, control, submission, power play dynamics, and is not intended for readers below 18. So read with extreme caution. “Tell me little bird, does my son fuck you as good as I do? Huh? Does his dick leave an aching memory in your pussy the way mine does?” Miguel’s voice was a low, vibration-heavy growl that rattled my teeth as he slammed into me, the impact jarring my spine, his thick, heavy cock stretching me so wide I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. I gripped the velvet edge of the sofa, my knuckles white, my breath hitching in ragged, pathetic little gasps. A moan tore out of me... raw, desperate, and utterly filthy. It was the sound of a woman who had spent months pretending to be a saint, finally being broken back into a sinner. “Mmmph... no Daddy... fuck. It’s just you. It’s always been you.” *********************** To my fucked-up queens... the ones who moan when they should run. For the girls who crave total damnation as soon as the lights go out. For the ones who never wanted soft. You want him obsessed, unhinged and filthy... as the sound of your name breaks through his lips, while he fucks you like you're his last breath. Then... welcome to “Daddies Inferno” 🔥a sinful collection filled with dominant men that promise to wreck you in every way possible. From possessive step dads, to father-in-law's who cross forbidden lines for the one woman they should never want or touch. You'll find him in these filthy pages 📖. Now... be a good girl, sit back, relax and let “Daddy” take care of you 😈👅💦.

"That's too bad," he mumbles and I loudly gasp as I am thrown against the bed. He pins my arms down while he stands over me. "Unfortunately, I don't think that." He leans even closer and licks the side of my neck.  "I want to mark you," he says directly into my ear and I visibly shiver. "I want everyone to know you're mine." I gasp as I feel his teeth on the side of my neck. "You can imagine how angry I was when I saw someone touching what's mine. I wanted to rip his head off, I still want to." He pulls away from my neck and stares at my face. His eyes scan it, lingering for a few seconds on my lips before he returns his gaze to my eyes. "You see why I can't act like things are back to normal because I don't want them to be. You know exactly what I want and unfortunately, I can't settle for anything less." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Years after her parents' deaths and things are finally looking up for Ashton. Her brother is the Alpha of the pack and her mate is the Head beta. Her brother's untimely death turns everything apart, she is rejected and chased from the pack. This leads her to Caspian who saves her from thugs who are trying to force her to join their pack. In a state of desperation, she joins his Rogue pack but a lot of things don't add up and even as she tries to keep a low profile, troubles won't stop seeking her out. Betrayed by her first love will she learn to trust and love again?

--- In the shadows of betrayal and loss, Diana McCoy rises from the ashes of a forbidden love that once saved her—and ultimately shattered her. Eric McCoy was her sanctuary, her darkest sin, until a bullet stole him away, leaving her with everything he has. Then, Wade McCoy, her lover's son kidnapped thesame day of his funeral. She makes a burning vow: to reclaim him from the people who took him. But vengeance is a treacherous path, and it leads straight to Rafael Goldman—a ruthless enigma who sees the fractured ruin in her soul and offers a devil's bargain drenched in desire. As their worlds collide in a storm of obsession and power, Diana surrenders to a passion that blurs the line between punishment and salvation. Can she wield her revenge without losing herself to the man who might be her greatest enemy... or her ultimate undoing? “Sometimes the devil doesn’t come to destroy you—he comes to finish what love couldn’t.” [Continue if you dare. From here you're on your own...] --- He fucked me like atonement, like penance, like the only god he believed in lived between my thighs. He groaned against my throat and it sent shivers down my spine. I saw his pupils in mine, holding the gaze steady. He cupped my cheek and gave me an aggressive kiss before I broke it, forcing his head to my neck. He kissed my throat, teeth scraping the pulse that was trying to kill me. I laughed softly, ragged and vicious, bit his lip until I tasted blood. That particular finger staggered back to my cunt again and forced its way into my v*gin* while his d*ck was still inside, grinding me. Suddenly his left hand came over my mouth, cupping it firm, blocking my screams....

Alessia Morretti was a cop working diligently for Five years and trying to pin down a Deadly Mafia Lord who killed her parents through the Drug he manufactured. She made it her mission until she became obsessed, However Leonardo Ricci got impressed by her persistence and watched her every move and action till he became obsessed himself, he was done dancing around and watching her destroy his little hideouts. He's going to have her so he surrendered himself to the police instead, set her husband up and pinned the crime on him. Instead of being sentenced, he was bailed out and he blackmailed her with something extremely dangerous that would destroy her career for life.***Leo’s smirk widened as he continued to taunt me. "Imagine that. A dedicated little police officer like you, spread out in my backseat, moaning like a whore for the very man you’ve been trying to put behind bars." I felt sick. He leaned back, completely at ease. "I’m sure the department would love to see it. The media. Oh, and your family." "Shut up," I whispered. He didn’t. "Hell, maybe I’ll send it to your old rival in the force. The one who’s been dying to ruin your career. What was his name again? Oh, right. Detective Harris." I thought my body couldn’t handle more rage. I was wrong. I gritted my teeth, my whole body shaking as I hissed, "What the fuck do you want from me?" Leo’s expression turned smug. "Now we’re talking." He leaned forward, his voice dropping into something low, dangerous. "You’re going to sign a deal," he said. "You’re going to be my bride."

I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?