Milo Manheim X Reader Novels & Stories

The Reader stumbled backward. Their faceless hood twisted violently, body bending in impossible angles. “You’re not supposed to hesitate!” they gasped. Liora clutched the book to her chest. “Then maybe this isn’t the final chapter.” “You can’t stop what’s been written,” the Reader hissed. “You can’t outrun the ending!” The floor cracked beneath them, Not ground, But text, Pages of her life peeling apart like skin, And rising from between them, Was a figure made entirely of titles. No face, No features.

She nodded and invited Sasha and me to join her for tea before gliding back out of the room. I waited for Sasha to follow her before querying Mitch on just who Justin was. To my surprise, and relief, he was a one-thousand-year-old handler. I was going to have help! This fantastic news far overshadowed the shock of Sasha’s presence and helped alleviate some of the embarrassment that I felt when I remembered Sasha’s groping caused my breast to leak milk onto my shirt. This was something that I hadn’t remembered while being scrutinized by Keona. Thank goodness the woman had the tact not to mention it. I almost skipped out of the room to give my breasts the attention they greatly needed, shower,

Their titles are; "Mr. Billionaire wants me Back" Which will be in both a mobo reader and a good novel And "His perfect Dare". Which will be available exclusively at a good novel. Thanks so much, for all the love. Please keep reading, liking, voting, and commenting but please only positive comments, not violent comments.

The man said while raising the book he was reading. Miya glance over the book when suddenly her eyes sparkled "Wow!!! I'm also reading the same novel right now." She became overly excited that she didn't notice that she suddenly speaks loudly and forgot that they were still in the library. The man noticed that the people in the library were staring at them so he suggested talking in some other place. "Well, we seem to like the same author. How about we talk somewhere else? I know it's so sudden but I think it's rare to see someone who has the same interest as mine. I hope it won't bother you." The man lowered his eyes as soon as he finishes talking afraid that his nervousness will be shown i

I relaxed and closed my eyes as he started inking my chest. Milo had gone back to the front and I heard him discuss the special ink with the man that had finished up with his client. The guy had no idea what Milo was talking about and Petr shook his head as he put the gun down. “Your friend can’t tell the difference between us and humans?” “Milo’s an asshole, he’s just being himself out there.” Petr grabbed something from a shelf and I heard him mutter something in Romanian that I didn’t catch as he headed out to the front. He was back within five minutes and I heard the whirr of the rotary gun as the artist started working on Milo.

Felt how badly part of me wanted him to keep going even while the rest of me hated myself for it. "Say you want me to stop," he breathed against my mouth, so close I could taste the words. I opened my lips. Nothing came out. He smiled then — small, dark, and completely satisfied. Like he had just won something he had known was already his. Then the door creaked open. Milo stood in the doorway. His backpack slung low. Face completely blank. His eyes moved slowly: from Jax's hand still under my hoodie, to my fingers twisted tight in Jax's shirt, to the way my mouth was still open, breath coming ragged and unstable.

Damon shrugged, pushing his head forward to a book that was placed on the man's table, and the title that was written by the side was vivid, at least, enough for him to see. “That book,” he announced, raising an eyebrow. “Walking free by Dr. Munjed Muderis, in the year 2014.” “You've read it already?” The man kept revealing the shock on his face, after every word that left his mouth. “Yes,” Damon replied almost immediately, placing one hand in his pocket. “About three times to be precise, so yeah, that should be an easy guess.” “Then why did you use two options?” the man questioned, squinting.

He tapped the screen a few times, then held it out to Milo. It was a web page. A very specific, very explicit web page. Ink & Iron, a popular platform for indie authors. And there, on the screen, was the profile of a writer named MothToFlame. Milo’s stomach dropped. MothToFlame was him. It was his secret. He wrote filthy, depraved erotica under that pseudonym. It was his stress release, his way of venting all the frustration and submission he felt in his daily life. Nobody was supposed to know. The stories were anonymous.

He muttered as he opened the Writers app to read the most popular stories on the app. He opened chapter 16, because the last time he read it was in chapter 15. Although he was reluctant to read the scenes that made him shudder, he finally did. The man showed his smile to the world, as if confirming he was the winner. A lion that roars loudly, making anyone who hears its sound frightened or a gorilla that beats its chest to show its power.

"She already chose. Every time she walks back into my house. Every time she lets me put my hands on her. Every time she kisses me like she's angry at herself for wanting it. That is a choice. Keep mistaking her hesitation for an invitation and I will correct the misunderstanding permanently." Somewhere behind me a glass is set down on the bar, very softly. Someone is trying not to be noticed. Milo's mouth curves. Small. Cold. Almost admiring. "There it is. The real Moreau. Not the one who plays house and buys video games for her son. The one who would burn the entire underworld down before he let another man keep her." He mirrors my posture. We are both leaning over the table, close enough t