Weirdest Fanfic Novels & Stories

I whispered. "I heard from Jonas that the fan war started because Amethyst's fans called Heidi a mistress, a snake, and a jealous bitch," she giggled. "Champagne problems. They just can’t sit on their thrones, sip champagne, watch a white firework show, and get a facial." I gave her a side glance, catching the edge of her crude humor. “Why are you so serious?” she asked, frowning at me. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’ve been really quiet and always spacing out for a week now.”

Such thoughts ignited a passionate fire within her, fanning the flames of her most forbidden passion. Alternatively, her mind wandered to the vampire with his pale, porcelain skin and sharp fangs, a mysterious figure who held a seductive allure that seemed to defy reason. Astrid's imagination soared as she conjured scenarios where he worshiped her body with his tongue, his fangs brushing sensuously against her clitoris as he eats her sensual flesh out. The mere thought of his prowess in rapture left her breathless and yearning for an encounter that defied the boundaries of human understanding.

" She faked shivered and run her hand through her hair. Katrina snorted and I bit my lip to not smile. Something was certainly going on between Ryan and Mira. I couldn't hold back my smile anymore. But the smile slips from my face when I realize at least they can be open about it seeing as Kaleb never warned Ryan off Mira. I mean, I don't think he did. But if Mira were to find out about Kaleb and I- I swallowed. " It's seriously not what you're thinking. Me and Ryan." She shivered in fake disgust. " I rather kiss a toad." " Then you two will be known as the princess and the frog." Katrina snorted, making Mira scowl at her.

Can it be. I laughed at what my ridiculous mind is thinking. First, it thought my mother was a werewolf. Second, it's confuse whether me and my twin's a werewolf. And third, assuming that I'm an alpha's mate. Oh jeez, this is just funny. "Uhm, Why are you laughing? "Only now did I realize he has his one brow lifted up as he look at me confusingly. "Oh, it's because of my mind. It kept thinking weird stuffs. "

“Sounds like someone had a very vivid imagination.” I flip another page, throat dry. The sketches are crude but explicit. Lines of charcoal showing an omega tied, blindfolded, his Alpha above him with blood smeared across both their chests. My pulse kicks. “It’s not just imagination. She wrote this like she saw it. Or… lived it.” His eyes flick over the page, then to my face. He smirks, that infuriating curl of mouth that says he thinks I’m ridiculous. “It’s just superstitious fantasies, Eli. Don’t tell me you believe this.”

Jared, a 17-year-old boy, struggles with his forbidden desires for his stepmother, Elena. After a dinner where her presence overwhelms him, he retreats to his room, consumed by fantasies of her. Using lube, he masturbates while imagining Elena in explicit scenarios. ********************************* Jared’s heart pounded as he shut the door to his room, the weight of the evening’s dinner still lingering in his mind. His stepmother, Elena, had been there, her presence a constant, intoxicating distraction.

Seemingly overnight, I received a ton of private messages on one of my social media platforms. They were all from strangers who called me an ingrate and claimed I was a fool—a love-addled fool who didn't know what was good for me. Their insults left me feeling outraged and indignant. Amid my confusion, I saw a video Natasha posted. It turned out that she had been posting videos about me online, claiming I was her love-addled brain dorm mate who dedicated my entire life to my boyfriend.

A wedding? My heart suddenly feels suffocated. I don’t know what comes over me, but I feel like I’m sinking into darkness, heavy with despair. As relieved as I am that Cynthia hasn’t been tortured, the idea of Cynthia marrying a brute like Vikrov is horrible to even picture. And if they haven’t been torturing her this whole time, what have they been doing to her? ‘That should be your wedding,’ my inner wolf Aspen mourns. ‘You think I don’t know that?’ I retorted.

Closing her eyes, conflicting images invaded her mind, sending shivers through her body: The First Fantasy (Yousef’s Touch and Passion): She felt the heavy weight of his body trapping her against the office wall, the heat of his breath on her neck, and the fierce intensity of his kiss that melted her defenses and staked his claim over her. A warm tingle coursed through her limbs. She smiled involuntarily, remembering how his formidable pride broke down under his suffocating jealousy over Amir. She whispered to herself playfully: "He's insane... jealous over a mere look!" The Second Nightmare (Amir’s Threat):

Deliberately forgot, but that's hardly the point. I grind my pussy against his hardness as he swipes my hair to one side. He buries his face in my exposed neck and takes a long sniff. "You smell like a real-life wet dream." Real-life wet dream? I laugh at my vivid imagination. Tens of women at work drool over Rhys Redmond, but I must be the only one filling up pages with fantasies of things that will never happen. If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will.