Novel & Cerita Heavy Metal Stories

Someone had been listening while they slept, while they fought, while they bled. He walked deeper into the halls, the floor creaking under his boots. The farther he went, the more it felt like every betrayal was still haunting these halls. Torque. Barker. All of them. He wasn’t sure how many more cracks the club could take before the foundation finally gave out. He entered the back hallway, the one leading to the storage basement. The place smelled of oil and damp wood. He crouched beside a stack of boxes, and ran the flashlight along the seams. A faint green flicker caught his eye.

Thick and heavy pressing against his zipper while he lectured. I wanted to drop to my knees right there and taste him. See if that brooding mouth could deliver on all the dirty promises his voice hinted at. My fingers gripped the edge of the desk. My panties were ruined now slick fabric clinging to my swollen lips. He continued the lecture but his eyes kept drifting back to me. “In Wuthering Heights Heathcliff doesn’t ask permission nicely. He takes what burns between them. Raw. Messy. Cum soaked sheets and bruises on thighs. That’s the kind of love that destroys and rebuilds you.”

Mac asked. “did you hear about the House of horrors there was out of town just a little bit. In the family that is at the center of it?” Max asked as he looked at his friend. He didn't really wanna get into it that it was all of DM's family that was involved but he knew that people would be able to differentiate it would be these people. “of course who hasn't heard of that? it was like the mother and father were killed by their oldest son who had a bunch of people trapped in their basement?” Mac asked as he looked at maxim he was slightly confused as to why he would even be bringing up a case like that.

Only after getting to their destination and facing the hordes of zombies with the other members did Uea finally know the name of the male lead in this arc. He couldn't be blamed. The arcs were too many, and being someone who wasn't exactly a fan of the apocalyptic period, he didn't put much mind in the settings of this arc. This arc could be said to be something he merely wrote for the happiness of his readers, considering how much they cursed him for the mafia arc.

The line went dead, leaving Connor fuming. "He's my stepbrother." Maisie's voice broke on the words, tears spilling freely. She was worried sick about her mom. "He's the Daggermoon Pack's next alpha. They attacked my pack a few years ago. My dad died in that fight." Her jaw tightened briefly before she pushed through. "When the Daggermoon's alpha saw my mom, he somehow knew she carried Caldera blood." "The ancient Caldera Pack?" The surprise in his voice was immediate. Caldera bloodline was the stuff of legend, rumored to carry extraordinary magical healing properties. Some accounts even reported bringing people back from the dead by using it.

The heavy breathing of his brother's filled the room, their cocks twitching as they waited for their turn. Draven's pace turned brutal as the bed creaked under his movements. His chest pressed against my back as he leaned in, biting my shoulder. 'Take it all,' he whispered. I gripped the bedpost hard as another orgasm was building up. He felt it and ground against my spot. 'Come on my cock,' he commanded. My body spasmed under him as my cum pushed out of my body soaking the sheets even more "Ughhh", he groaned as he flooded me with hot cum, pumping deep until it leaked down my thighs pooling with my cum.

History? “EVERYONE LISTEN! GOD HAS SPOKEN TO ME! IF YOU WANTED TO GO TO HEAVEN AFTER YOU DIE, YOU MUST OFFER 10 GOLD COINS AND ADDITIONAL 5 GOLD COINS TO SIGN THIS DEED! THIS DEED WOULD BE A PROOF OF YOUR EVERLASTING FAITH TO GOD AND MUST BE RENEWED EVERY MONTH!!” What in the actual fuck? What fuckery is this? Reading it in books is infuriating enough, but to actually hear it? The audacity… “10 gold coins? That can already buy us two months’ worth of food! Complete meals with snacks!” Jayce exclaimed beside me, also watching the scene unfold in front of us. People lined up and actually pay him.

And I got a strong whiff of alcohol from him. "I don't want to see your pathetic tears. You know, I despise you more than your sister. You and your whole family are the most horrible people I have ever come across. Just wait until it's time for revenge… Until then, I will be torturing you little nerdy. And no one will help you or let you escape from this, even death…!!"

Just the fact of it, out in the air. “There’s someone,” he said. She looked at the chair. She thought about the crack — the original injury, the winter at a curb, the careful filling, the repair that was now stronger than what had been there before. She thought about what it took to do that kind of work: the patience, the willingness to be with the damaged thing long enough to understand it, to resist the urge to disguise the history and instead to honor it, make it hold. “I need to tell you something,” she said.

I said before downing another drink. The bartender raised his eyebrows slightly but didn’t comment. He poured me another glass. After a few drinks, my head started to feel light and dizzy. The music around me sounded louder, almost echoing in my ears. “Is that the best thing you can do to deal with it?” a deep male voice asked beside me. I slowly turned my head and looked at the man sitting next to me. “I didn’t have sex with my boyfriend for the past two years because I wanted to stay a virgin,” I confessed bitterly before gulping down another drink.