Midnight Obsessions Novels & Stories

“But on my own terms. I need a private sit-down with her tomorrow regardless.” “About what?” Teo snapped, his territorial streak flaring up again. “None of your business,” Nic replied coolly. Teo huffed, but he went quiet. “I didn't know we were heading to the club at midnight,” I muttered. I’d actually planned on staying back at the Estate, lurking near the service quarters. Tonight was the night. Midnight. In our world, the ‘Noir’ awakening—that moment the high-tech psychological conditioning and the raw biker instinct fully synced—happened at eighteen. For Daniels, it was going to be intense. It’s a rush of adrenaline and sensory overload that can break a person if they're alone. I wanted

Midnight settled heavily over the Namaras Palace. The corridors were drowned in silence, and the cold wind drifted through the tall windows with a faint sound like a whisper. Inside her room... Iris was sleeping deeply beneath the warm blankets. But after an unknown amount of time, she began to stir uneasily. Her features tightened slightly before she slowly opened her eyes. She blinked several times sleepily, then sat up in bed, lightly holding her head. "Water..." she muttered hoarsely.

Was. It had begun to drizzle, the cold droplets landing softly on my skin and the ground beneath our feet, gently splashing rain drops and dirt together in a way that smelled like earth and endings. I clenched my jaw and told him about the Black Rose. I told him that I'd gone deep, too deep, and that I couldn't go back to the NHPD. I think I broke my oath, I told him, and I don't know what's wrong with me. I should have definitely listened to his advice and not delved in deeper, I told him. I couldn't help it because it was killing me inside, eating away at me piece by piece until there was nothing left but this obsession.

Jettison POV The air was stale in the shadowed corner of the Midnight Club—one of the most flourishing spots for sin in the whole of Black moore pack. It was an empire I’d built with blood, sweat, and racing engines years ago. Neon lights flickered across the floor where bodies moved and twisted to the music thundering from the loudspeakers. Laughter, shouts, and the stink of alcohol filled the air, everything reeking of sin and danger—but heck, none of it reached me tonight.

he whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass. Anya laughed softly, her body still tingling, knowing this was only the start of her dirty obsession, a spiral of lust that would consume her entirely. She dressed slowly, leaving the motel with weak legs and a belly full of cum, returning home where Pedro was sleeping, unaware of everything. But in the car, she touched herself again, reliving every moment, cumming one last time before arriving, the taste of cigarettes and sex on her mouth. The obsession only grew, and she could hardly wait for the next encounter.

When I went up to my room, the first thing I did was keep that devilish doll under lock and key in my desk, for nothing in the world did I want to wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and see her by my side because if that happened I would probably have a heart attack. That night I made myself comfortable in my bed and started a new reading while sipping my inevitable cup of coffee. I was so immersed in that fantasy world that my incoming call bell scared me. I turned to look at the clock and discovered that it was a little after midnight, who was thinking of calling me at that time? Was it a life or death emergency? I stared at my phone without being able to decide what to do

She couldn’t sleep. Qeiza left her bed. She walked towards the window and opened it. The night breeze spontaneously petted her face. It felt cold. It froze her blood circulation. Qeiza glanced at the clock. It’s almost three in the dawn. Her eyes were still open widely. Repeatedly she took deep breaths. 'Why is the life always cornered me on the intersection of doubts?'' Qeiza thought. She was looking up, staring at the stars in the night sky.

She has read that book too? Midnight was a character from one of his first books. The book was about a young man, who because of being possessed by demons, would go on a killing spree every midnight, the sight and scent of the blood being the only salvation from the mental and physical pain these demons brought him. That fucker was a total psycho. Jake felt wronged. Why should she call him that? Does Ryder think of him as a psycho? Yet, upon noticing Ryder beaming proudly like a little child, he didn't have the heart to refuse. "Why not."