Split Fiction Ao3 Novels & Stories

I never wanted a mate. Not in a world where power meant everything, where the strong ruled and the weak were nothing but pawns. But fate had other plans for me—dark, twisted, and utterly unforgiving. The Alpha King, Lyran, was a legend among werewolves—a beast in battle and an insatiable conqueror in bed. His touch was both a blessing and a curse, The Alpha King, looked into my eyes passionately, Drew me closer by his side, till I get really wet. He began to advance very quickly by dipping his hands into my drilling wet pussy, that made me squirt crazily and hummed without limits. Oh shit, I was his mate, Alpha Lyran, had so many Lycans, and Omegas as his sexual slaves, but his name alone made Luna queens and Omegas drop to their knees. He was ruthless, powerful, and untamed. But he had never met someone like me. For five years, I hid in the shadows, biding my time, sharpening my hatred. My parents were murdered in the brutal war between Lord Nazgus and the sorcerer king, Maharajah. I was only seventeen when everything was taken from me. And now, in the Greko Pack—a kingdom split into seven districts where power decides who lives and who dies—I am nothing more than prey. Until Alpha Lyran claims me. He believes I am just another Omega, a plaything to be used and discarded. He has no idea the monster he has chained to his bed. Because I am no ordinary shifter. I am the last of my kind—the deadliest of them all. A creature feared even in whispered legends. A Wereraven and a Lycan hybrid. And when I rise, not even the Alpha King himself will be able to tame me.

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

The chimes of the Full Moon Festival echoed through the night air. I fought down the nervous flutter in my chest and shot a text to Beta Lucas. "When are we telling the pack, Beta Lucas? When do we finally mark each other?" "I was still holding my breath when my brother, Alpha Ryan, suddenly raised his hand." He pointed at the Sacred Oak in the middle of the plaza, his voice laced with surprise. "Hey, Elena. Isn't that Lucas?" "He's holding a girl's hand. Looks like the pack's in for a celebration." I followed Ryan's gaze on instinct. In that split second, my wolf went completely cold. Lucas was kissing the girl in his arms, deep and passionate. I recognized her right away. It was Sarah, the rogue wolf Lucas had brought back from the forest border the week before. Word was she'd saved Lucas's life. I must've been staring too hard, because Lucas suddenly looked up and locked eyes with us. His pupils shrank the second he saw me. A few seconds later, he slowly let go of the girl in his arms. "Ryan, Elena. Let me formally introduce you two." "This is Sarah, my chosen mate." When he got to me, Lucas's eyes darted away. He glanced quickly at my pale face, then turned to the Sarah beside him. "This is Elena, Alpha Ryan's sister. She's like a little sister to me, too." We'd shared a bed countless nights. And all I got in the end was the label of sister. Fine, then. If your little sister marries another Alpha, you'll surely bless me, won't you?

Tyler never wanted an Alpha, especially not someone like Landon Hayes. At Ridgecrest Academy, Landon is at the top of the food chain—dominant, arrogant, and used to getting everything he wants. But Tyler isn’t like the other Omegas who fall at his feet. Defiant and independent, he’s determined to finish his year and leave without ever being claimed. Landon has other plans. The moment Tyler caught Landon’s eye, it was game over. Tyler’s quiet defiance and refusal to submit ignite something in Landon he can’t ignore. For the first time, Landon is chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught. At Ridgecrest, the rules are simple: the strongest Alpha gets what he wants. And Landon Hayes wants Tyler. *** “You—” he starts to say, but his voice catches. I see his pupils dilate, his lips parting as he tries to push back against what’s happening. I let the red flash in my eyes, just for a second, enough to show him who’s in control here. It’s not about scaring him—it’s about reminding him of the natural order of things. The way this has always been meant to go. “Submit,” I growl. He whines. It’s quiet, barely audible, but I hear it. His body betrays him for just a second, his knees wobbling as his head lowers, shoulders hunching in instinctual submission. His eyes flick away, and I can see it—the brief moment where his will cracks. And god, it’s intoxicating. That split second of submission is all I need to know that he’s mine. He might fight it, but his body knows. His scent tells me everything I need to know. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks completely, before he’s begging for it.

"Crawl to Daddy on your hands and knees, little whore. I want to see you beg for this d*ck before I split you open and breed that dripping c*nt." * Daddy's Naughty Pet is a collection for readers who are tired of vanilla bullshit and want stories about people who fuck like their lives depend on it. Five chapters each of the raunchiest, most depraved scenarios that'll make you wet, hard, and wondering what's wrong with you for loving it. The stepmom who "accidentally" walks in on her stepson jerking off and decides to help. The personal assistant who schedules "meetings" that are really just fuck sessions on the conference table. The priest who breaks his vows with a parishioner in the confessional. The doctor who gives very hands-on examinations. The landlord who demands payment in pussy. The mechanic who test-drives more than cars. The massage therapist with wandering hands. The yoga instructor who teaches flexible positions for other reasons. The lifeguard who performs mouth-to-mouth that turns into face-fucking. The uber driver who takes a detour. Every character is controlled by their cravings. The married woman sneaking out to get railed by her ex because her husband's dick doesn't satisfy. The college girl who fucks her entire fraternity in one night. The businessman who keeps a submissive locked in his penthouse. These stories don't have plot—they have positions. No character development—just hole development. No emotional connection—just physical fucking that leaves them sore, sticky, and immediately ready for round two. Expect: Every depraved kink you can imagine and some you didn't know existed. This collection is shameless, filthy, degenerate smut with zero redeeming qualities. And that's exactly why you'll devour every word. Ready! Now flip that page like the good little girl you are.

His lap is my throne and my body is his salvation. Orphaned and enslaved, I was sold to Prince Erwin's palace to serve as his sex slave. They said the prince drinks blood daily and has a taste for killing people. That only blood, violence, and screams can arouse his sexual desire. His favourite colour was reddish blood, and my hair was red. Perhaps that's why he fell in love with me, made love with me almost every night, but sometimes his demonic side took over and he raped me me brutally. But deep in my heart, I know he loved me. He adorned me with the jewels, burned his own king-father alive, for me. He still chose me even though he was married to a beautiful noblewoman. And I loved him as well. He is the king of my body, my heart, and my soul. The prophecy says that I will die by his hand, and before that happens, I must free him from the curse he was born with. He is the beast, and I am the beauty. Can the beauty heal the beast? **** This story contains some adult concepts such as: - Slavery, Harem, and reverse harem (since the setting is in the 16th. I opposed slavery) - Graphic sexual and violent scenes (stay away if you are under 18) - Bloody vengeance (may be distressing to some readers. If you are easily triggered, it may be best to avoid this book) - Gods, Goddesses vs Demons (Based on Greek mythology, not suitable if you are too religious) This story is a work of fiction, intended to satisfy readers' wildest smut and romantic fantasies. Please do not read this book if you dislike the above topics. You have been warned.

Warning:This book contain some sensitive content Rated +18, and everything in this book is a work of fiction and not related to any real life person or event. Imagine you broke up with your boyfriend and the same day you saw him in the arms of another woman. Because of a fake result Nazy lost her relationship, her life and every reason to live, having her last mental breakdown, she went back to street where she thought she belonged, well you could say she does cause she's the queen of SHANTY, but this time she went back for only one reason to destroy men for ruining her life, her plan was going well not until that night when she accidentally met Vincentte Vladimir, a mysterious man who’s different from all the men she has met, he was not after her body or what he’ll gain from her, neither did he judge her for her lifestyle rather he treated her like a queen and was ready to burn down the world for her. Nazy’s revenge plan has been altered, she has started developing feelings which were never supposed to happen, how does she tell him that it can never work out between them not because of her past, but because she did not want to ruin him, she did not want to hurt him. She's like fire and he was neither ice or fire, you can say he's something more than fire and ice. Just like Heaven cannot come down to Earth, their worlds are totally apart, in a world were criticism excel especially when it comes to women, will love be enough for the two hearts

Hi there. By now, you know about the boys. Those guys who are too handsome to miss … too cocky to ignore … and far too dangerous to get involved with. And you probably figured out … these stories are not officially about them. Not completely. It’s about us. Girls like me. The ones who don’t mean to get pulled in. The ones who know better … but still fall in love. The ones who should have walked away … but didn’t. I wish I could say I was different. That I saw it coming. That I made the smart choice. I didn’t. So here I am. Aria Thompson. The next girl. Next one to fall for a San Francisco Boy. Enrique Lucio Blackburn. Famous actor. International model. Renowned playboy. Beautiful, broken … and completely unreachable. Big mistake. People think they know him. They see the smirk. The fame. The endless string of women. They don’t see the truth. He turned himself into a robot. Untouchable. Emotionless. Enrique Blackburn is allergic to love. And me? I walked straight into his world with a contract in my hand and desperation in my chest. My sister needed treatment. He needed to fix his reputation. So we made a deal. Fake girlfriend. Public appearances. Perfect photos. No sex. No love. No relationship. Simple, right? Yeah … not even close. Because the line between fake and real can get blurred very quickly. He started to matter. And despite the consequences, I let him steal my heart. I have everything to win, but much more to lose. So the real question isn’t whether I can survive this deal … but can I make the man who feels nothing … feel everything? Can I turn fiction into something real? And most importantly … can I make him say the words?

My lazy stepbrother, Derek Lane, suddenly becomes the hardest-working person in the village. He cuts weeds, carries buckets of manure, and works the fields. Nothing seems too difficult for him. But while he works, cuts suddenly appear on my hands. The carrying pole rubs my shoulders raw. Even the soles of my feet split open. I have no idea what kind of dark magic he uses, but every injury he suffers is somehow transferred onto me. After spending an entire day laboring under the blazing sun, he remains full of energy. Meanwhile, I collapse from heatstroke. I tell Dad to stop Derek from working in the fields. Instead of listening to me, Dad drags me to the village square and publicly lambasts me in front of all the villagers. He scolds, "You still think you're some spoiled boy who came from the city? Not only are you too lazy to work, but you're even spreading lies that Derek is using black magic!" From that day on, Derek works even harder. But at the same time, I can no longer work in the fields at all with my body covered in injuries. A week later, he's named the village's "Farmer of the Year". Thanks to that title, he earns the chance to head to the city and attend college. As for me, I collapse from exhaustion and die in the cornfield. Wild dogs feed on my remains. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the first day Derek is trying to steal my work points. There are 15 days left until the fall harvest. I have 15 days until I die in that cornfield. I snatch the carrying pole from Derek's hands and say, "I'll handle my own work."