Goth Singer Male Novels & Stories

I'm a private photographer. Many female college students come to me to get their portraits shot. In return, they choose to offer me their supple bodies. One day, I receive an order to take wedding photos of a couple. However, that night, the bride insists on having me sleep with her… Could it be that her husband can't even afford to pay me for my services?

I fell in love with my wife the moment I met her, and we eventually got married. She got pregnant not too long after that. Blessed me, but barely a week later, she suffered from excessive bleeding and was taken to the hospital. We lost the baby. The doctor yelled at me because he thought I didn't hold back my urges. That was why we lost the baby. I was flabbergasted. I had never slept with my wife ever since she got pregnant.

Lily Peterson's childhood sweetheart, Sean Clements, ran over my 70-year-old mother in his car while he was drunk-driving. Because of that, Mom died on the spot. But Lily insisted on signing the letter of forgiveness for Sean. "My mother-in-law had planned on scamming Sean for more money, so she lay beneath the wheels on purpose. She should be the one taking on the entire responsibility." Not only did Sean get released as an innocent man, but he also received the ten-million-dollar payment given by the insurance company as compensation for his emotional distress. "Honey, I grew up with Sean since we were kids. I can't just sit by and watch his life get ruined by imprisonment! Can't you be more gracious and stop bringing this issue up?" After leaving the police station, Sean uploads a post on his social media feed in a high-profile manner. "Lily looks so gorgeous when she defends me in front of others! Childhood sweethearts will always be the closest people in life!" Lily leaves a like on Sean's post right in front of me. I remain eerily calm. "Let's get a divorce, Lily." She huffs coldly in return. "You just want me to console you, right? Tristin Foley, you're already 30 years old. Can you stop being childish?" I've already brought up divorce multiple times in the past. That's why Lily refuses to believe that I will leave her for real. But what she doesn't know is that I've snuck in a divorce agreement into the documents meant for the case closure registration, and she has personally left her signature there.

When they were married, billionaire tycoon Mr. Seven said, "That goth bitch is just after my money and my looks. If she dares to ever touch me, I'll chop her up into pieces."After the divorce, Mr. Seven went around telling others, "My wife has been bullied by her family all her life. She is the most gorgeous woman on earth. If you look at her funny, I'll gouge your eyes out!"Mr. Seven, do you even hear what you're saying?

My mother-in-law was rushed to the hospital with sudden chest pain and sent straight into emergency surgery. However, my wife, who was the head of the thoracic department, insisted that her clueless young male apprentice be the lead surgeon instead. The apprentice stood in front of the operating table. He couldn’t even recognize half of the surgical instruments laid out before him. He pouted and fidgeted a little. “I forgot again…” My wife just smiled indulgently at him. Even though the patient’s chest had been opened, she patiently spent ten minutes explaining the instruments to him before the surgery finally began. In the end, the apprentice’s hand trembled, and he accidentally punctured the tumor. Terrified, he let out a sharp scream and threw himself into my wife’s arms. To console him, my mother-in-law’s only chance at survival was gone, and she died right there on the operating table. My wife walked out of the operating room, supporting her badly shaken apprentice, and glanced at me indifferently. “Before you take your mother’s body away, provide an affidavit of non-prosecution to the hospital. Your mom couldn’t have been saved anyway. Anthony is still young. His future can’t be ruined because of your mother.” Only then did I realize that she thought the person lying on that operating table was my mother. I chuckled and said, “I'm afraid I'm not qualified to do that.”

On the third day of trying to win over Heidi Shilton, she confessed to me. But the affection score floating above her head was still zero. After we got together, she spoiled me nonstop. On our sixth anniversary, she pulled off this huge proposal. Tears burned my eyes. I was just about to say yes when comments suddenly flashed across my vision— [Heidi must be exhausted. Six years pretending to love Rowan just to protect the male lead.] [The stand-in for Andy seriously got too into the role. This is hilarious.] The blood in my veins turned ice-cold. No wonder that score hadn't changed in six years. Then a system alert slammed into my head— [Final stage activated. Mission countdown: 10 days. Failure will result in complete erasure.] Smiling, I pushed away Heidi's engagement ring and wiped my tears. "Sorry. I'm done playing this game."

The medication I kept at the company had been switched, resulting in me suffering from acute kidney failure. After the emergency surgery, I asked my wife, Rebecca Little, to thoroughly investigate the company's employees. Instead, I discovered she had already deleted the surveillance footage from that day. When I confronted her, she brushed me off coldly. "I found the person responsible. He wanted to turn himself in, but I stopped him. Look, you're fine now, aren't you? Hendrix didn't do it on purpose. He's so young—if he went to jail, his life would be ruined. Let's just drop the matter, okay?" The person she was defending was none other than the male secretary, Hendrix Cannon, she had been flirting with lately. I was speechless. Nine years of love and trust disintegrated in an instant.

After my wife, Simone Inman, gets into a car accident, I examine her as her doctor and discover that she has a malignant brain tumor. Afraid that she will be devastated, I plan to tell her later. So, I hide the medical report in my bag. But when she happens to see it, she mistakenly thinks it is my diagnosis instead. One day, when I arrive at her office, I overhear her talking to her best friend, Mindy Fox. She says, "My husband has no talent, no looks, only money. And now, he even has a tumor in his brain… If Shawn hadn't gone abroad back then, I would never have married him. I'm so unlucky! But good thing I never agreed to have children with him. Once he dies, all his money will be mine." Later on, she claims she has amnesia after the car accident and cannot remember who I am. She even treats her male secretary, Shawn Erskine, as her husband and blatantly brings him into our home. I smile scathingly and say, "Let's get a divorce, Simone."

In the tenth year after I had married in his place, my brother, Thayer Ashford, suddenly returned. The whole family fell silent as they looked at him. He yawned as he spoke with careless ease, “I traveled through thirteen countries. I’m exhausted. “Where’s Seraphina? She should be in primary school by now, right? Why hasn’t she come to see me?” Seraphina was Thayer’s daughter. Back then, Thayer had abruptly announced he had a child. Yet on the very day of his wedding, he staged his own death, leaving behind Seraphina and his fiancée, Isolde Fairchild. The Fairchilds belonged to the old-money elite of the city. My parents did not dare offend them, so they decided to package me—fresh out of graduation—and send me to the wedding in Thayer’s place. Over these ten years, I became a competent husband and a responsible father. As my parents watched Thayer’s brazen composure, their gazes shifted toward me. I gave them a faint smile. “Sera went to Novaforge with Isolde.”

Yvonne Larson, my housekeeper, has always been punctual, but she ends up being late today. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Carter. Dinner's not ready yet. I hope you won't mind. I had no choice. I waited for over half an hour, but no one got the door for me. I even called Mrs. Carter a few times, but she didn't take my calls. That's why I ended up running late." Halfway through changing into my house slippers, I pause and frown. "Yvonne, didn't Susanna give you the access card to the apartment?" Yvonne looks confused. "The access card? Mrs. Carter never gave me any card." "Never?" "That's right," Yvonne confirms timidly while wiping the sweat off her brow. "For the past month, I've always had to call Mrs. Carter and ask her to open the door for me. She wasn't picking up her phone today, so I had to wait outside…" That's strange. I've checked the logs before. The access card has been used multiple times throughout the past month.