Murder Drones X Male Reader Wattpad Novels & Stories

My fiancee, Isabelle Bailey, engages in a passionate kiss with her stage partner, Shawn Sanders, in a theater play. While the audience is wholly touched by the romance depicted by the main characters of the play, I know for a fact that the actual script doesn't feature the kissing scene at all. Guilt flickers across Isabelle's face at my confrontation. But she argues, "We were just acting! Are you saying that I can't act out romance scenes anymore?" I no longer demand answers from Isabelle like a hysterical fool. Instead, I give the roses that are cultivated from a new breed to the background actors. After leaving the afterparty, I call my mentor, Patrick White. "Professor, I'm willing to travel to the northwest to plant roses there."

My in-laws got lost in the miasma-filled forests deep within Mounscour Hill while on a trip. As a top-tier explorer, I was the only one who could rescue them within the golden rescue window. But just before I set off, my wife’s assistant swapped out my specially made gas mask for a sunscreen mask. “Mr. Haden, you’re always running around all over the place without any sun protection. Your face is so dark now. Even Ms. Laf doesn’t like you anymore.” I sternly told him I was about to head to Mounscour Hill to rescue people and demanded he hand over the gas mask. Upon hearing this, my wife suddenly flew into a rage and smashed my gas mask to pieces. “Who are you trying to fool? Who in their right mind would go in there? You don’t even think before you lie! “Besides, what’s wrong with the mask? You’re just trying to embarrass Astel on purpose!” My wife’s assistant glared at me defiantly. “Ms. Laf, look how anxious Mr. Haden is to leave. He’s probably running off to see another woman.” I laughed through gritted teeth. My wife had no idea that the gas mask she had smashed in her rage was the very thing that would save her parents’ lives.

I, Julian Manning, am the top salesman at a car dealership, and I never refuse any customer's request. But today, I turn away a regular customer who comes in for a free maintenance service. My colleague is stunned. "Are you crazy? He's our biggest client who's about to buy the only 4-million-dollar top spec car in the store!" I nod and reply, "That's right. He's exactly the one I'm refusing." When the store manager sees the customer, Marvin Haas, angrily raise his phone to file a complaint, he rushes over to smooth things over. "Mr. Haas, please calm down. He's new and doesn't know better. Please come inside, I'll personally take care of everything..." I step to the side and block the entrance. "No. If you let him in, I'll resign right now." Marvin's face turns red with anger, and he points a trembling finger at. "I'm just here for a free maintenance. Is this really necessary?" I meet his gaze and say solemnly, word by word, "Yes, it is."

At midnight, I accidentally stumble upon the boss' daughter, Julianne Carter, pleasuring herself in the dimly-lit adult store. Her eyes are blindfolded, and her legs are spread on a special chair, where they are propped up on the arms. At the moment, she's cruising through the waves of pleasure uncontrollably. But when the chair malfunctions, Julianne is unable to free herself from the restraints no matter how hard she tries. That's when she starts calling for help. "Please… Please help me…" But I crouch down instead, allowing my fingers to glide across her thighs, past her calves, and back to her inner thighs. "Don't move. This chair's mechanisms are very complex. I need to study them thoroughly and slowly." "P-Please… hurry up…" I watch as Julianne's expression shifts from embarrassment to yearning. She finally stops struggling against the restraints when she breaks down from all the overwhelming sensations. "Give it to me… Please give everything to me…" Just as I'm about to yield, I hear the sounds of the boss, George Carter, opening the door coming from the outside. So, I quickly wheel Julianne into a nearby storeroom. That's where I see hyper-realistic molds that look exactly like Julianne.

Debt collectors showed up at our doorstep when my mother's company went bankrupt. They said they would break one of my mom's legs if the money was not repaid within three days. I swallowed my pride and went to my girlfriend Jasmine, who had a net worth of over a hundred million dollars. I begged her to lend me $500,000 to get my family through this crisis. It was the first time I had ever asked her for money. She frowned but still agreed, saying she would have her finance department transfer it to me that afternoon. I waited by my phone, refreshing my bank balance over and over, from daylight until nightfall. However, she suddenly went completely silent, ignoring my calls and messages. Anxious and restless, I tried to comfort myself, telling myself she might just be busy with something urgent. Still, saving my mom's leg could not wait. In the end, I had no choice but to take the watch my father left me before he died and bring it to an auction. I did not expect to run into Jasmine at the auction house with her childhood sweetheart, Lionel. She was spending money like it meant nothing, bidding on an expensive painting for him. The final price of that painting was exactly $500,000. She had not forgotten about me. It was just that my desperate emergency meant less to her than the man she truly cared about.

The New Year was just around the corner. While I was doing a thorough cleaning, I stumbled upon something beneath the couch. It was a damp, used condom, and it still had a faint lipstick stain on the edge. One thing I was sure of was that I didn't use this brand, but the lipstick color? It matched perfectly with my girlfriend Lindsey Stirling's.

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.

I’m the public lover of Tara Brewer, the underworld queen. She often dotes on me and treats me like I'm her most precious treasure, and she goes as far as to claim that she wants to give birth to ten children for me. But when I'm getting beaten up by others while completely drenched in my own blood, Tara doesn't recognize me at all. Instead, she turns to comfort her beau, Brandon Holden. "That filthy bastard has crossed you, honey! You can just beat him to death! I'll be your safety net!" Only then do I realize that Brandon is Tara's lover this whole time. As soon as Tara's words fall, she snatches the boxing gloves from Brandon and begins punching my face, which has a mixture of blood and tears streaking down my cheeks. At the same time, she says icily, "Don't worry. Once you're dead, I'll inform your wife so that she can pick up your corpse."

Misty Lawrence has an ex-boyfriend whom she can't forget—Zach Sterling. Carter Flanagan has always hoped that he would one day replace Zach's place in Misty's heart. In the eighth year of his and Misty's marriage, he accidentally breaks a bowl that Zach randomly bought. Misty screeches, "Get the hell out of here! I don't want to see you anymore!" That's when Carter realizes he'll never win when it comes to Zach, especially since the latter is dead. This time, he prepares a divorce agreement and leaves after signing it. It's Misty's turn to panic…

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.