Naruto Metal Bender Fanfiction

Sold like a circus animal. Collared, forced into misery and self-hatred. With a single blow, she hopes to change her life, only to find herself trapped again. Ocean has no idea what freedom means, but she desires nothing more than a taste of it. The secrets hidden from her will unfold before her eyes, no one can escape the truth. ~~~ The book excerpt: "Here, I have a key to your heart," I left the key in my palm, metal, and skin together. I stumbled upon the ancient artwork in the locker rooms. It caught my attention because it resembles a dagger, so I took it and waited for the perfect opportunity. "Silly girl, that is not the key to my heart. Pathetic attempt." Vladimir growls in disgust. If I'm lucky, I'll be free by the end of the night. Taking the first step toward my destruction, I grin and move my hips in time with the slow music in the background. Vladimir swallows, his Adam's apple bobbles in his throat. The vampire's eyes focus on the crook of my neck as I stop directly in front of him. I place my palm on his chest, guide my fingertips down to his abdominal muscles, a corner of my lip twitches in disgust. When he closes his eyes, I take the opportunity to plunge the key directly into his heart, smiling as his eyes shoot open and he looks down at me in horror. "Are you still convinced I don't have the key to your heart?" I ask, grab him by the collar, and pull him closer. My lips nearly touch his ear as I whisper, "It fits."

In her past life, Aria Vale loved the wrong people. Her stepsister framed her. Her fiancé betrayed her. And on the cold metal of an operating table, Aria died— watching the man who truly loved her take his last breath trying to save her. But fate gives her a second chance. Reborn seven years earlier, Aria returns sharper, colder, and armed with the one thing she never had before— clarity. This time, she refuses to be the Vale family’s sacrificial pawn. To escape their control, she boldly replaces another girl and marries the man everyone in Meridian City mocks: Damian Cross—the “disabled,” unwanted heir. Rumour says he’s powerless. Rumour says he’s cold and useless. Rumour says his own family discarded him. Rumour is wrong. Behind the wheelchair is a man whose power shakes cities— a man hiding his true identity, calculating his rise, and waiting for the right moment to strike. And to everyone’s shock, he chooses to protect Aria. To cherish her. To claim her. As Aria unleashes her hidden brilliance— her beauty, her medical genius, her cold confidence— the people who once mocked her find themselves kneeling at her feet. The scum who destroyed her? This time, she destroys them first. But as her enemies fall one by one, Aria discovers the most dangerous truth of all: Her “disabled” husband isn’t disabled at all… and the gentle man who pampers her by day turns into a possessive wolf by night. This lifetime, Aria rises from ashes to glory. This lifetime, Damian stands by her side as king. And anyone who tries to tear them apart— will learn the meaning of regret.

He kissed her over and over again, and she responded: she said yes. All female heat and need; so soft and curved against his muscle and hard planes. King kissed her like he owned her and she ached to just let him take her. Any way he wanted; as many times as she could take him. King shifted her again, held almost her whole weight on one massive forearm, freeing his other hand to move over her now. His fingers tightened on her cheek as he kissed her, the metal of his rings cool against her flushed skin, then he moved his hand down her body. She arched when he caressed her throat and stroked down slowly. **** Naomi Abbott had it all once: talent, success, momentum. Now she runs a nonprofit art program for autistic adults and counts her days sober instead of her sales. She’s smart, beautiful, and barely holding herself together. One year into recovery, Naomi knows the rules: no chaos, no temptation, and absolutely no romance. Especially not with him. Matt “King” Kingston is danger wrapped in muscle, a scowling ex-Marine with a garage, a shadowy side hustle, and a laser-focused obsession with Naomi. He wants her. All of her. And he’s never been good at walking away. But the closer he gets, the harder she resists... because letting King in means risking everything she’s fought to rebuild. As trust grows and walls crack, King becomes Naomi’s anchor. Until she spirals. When the past comes roaring back, Naomi must decide if she’s strong enough to survive it... and if King’s love can endure the wreckage.

After the young officer Edward Shaw took first place in a high-profile shooting exhibition attended by senior officials, his family adopted a rather peculiar tradition. At the annual family banquet, he would perform a blindfolded shooting. Whichever woman's token his bullet struck was taken as a sign that she would become his fiancée. Determined to marry him, I placed the handkerchief I had carefully chosen as close to him as possible. Yet, for three consecutive years, his shots hit nothing at all. I told myself the handkerchief must have been too light, too easy to miss. So each year, I replaced it with something more refined, more eye-catching than before. That illusion lasted until the night before my eighteenth birthday, when I happened to overhear him speaking with a friend at a reception. "Miss Jasmine's handkerchief is right in front. Even blindfolded, you should be able to hit it. How do you keep missing every year?" Edward swirled his glass, his tone casual. "Tracy's still young. The moment she hears I'm getting engaged, she starts crying. "I promised I'd wait until she's a little older. As for Jasmine, she's waited for me all these years. It's not like she's going anywhere." With that, he casually tossed his glass into a metal bucket in the corner. It rang out with a sharp, hollow clang. I lowered my gaze and thought of my younger sister, only a year younger than me. So it had never been about the token. It was about the person who placed it there. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on. After all, my father had already arranged a marriage for me. Three days later, at that same family banquet, I would be formally engaged.

How quickly everything ended by just a single day, I was just like any other girl in the world- laughing and hanging out with friends, taking endless selfies, having crushes on bad boys and nerds included. I never thought or cared about how I look. It was just mine. Normal and Easy. But everything changed in one single moment- a moment filled with fire, screaming metal, and a blur of terror that rewrote my life. I survived. Everybody says I'm lucky but this, this doesn't feel like survival it feels like a punishment, a curse. A curse that am willing to carry all my life. The accident left me with permanent facial disfigurement, and ever since, I've been stuck behind a mask I never asked to wear. My face is the first thing anyone sees, and sometimes, it feels like the only thing they see. I avoid mirrors now. I no longer go out; I can't risk being stared at. Friends faded. Invitations stopped. Of course they would stop, who would want to invite the hideous me. I would scare everyone, worse, ruin their appetite. They would move away from their tables. What did I expect? Life moved on for everyone but me. My mom is the only person in my life right now, shes' become my anchor. Even with her love, it's still hard to silence the voices in my head, the ones saying I'm hideous, broken, unworthy. I miss my old smile. I still haven't done anything in life. And this isn't about my appearance it's about my self- esteem, my confidence, my ability to feel like I belong anywhere. This is a constant battle with the mirror, with the world, and with yourself. And most days, I'm trying to find the strength to look up to.

As I walked through the dimly lit hallway, my heart was still racing, my breath uneven from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me in the last few hours. Then, my eyes flickered up, catching sight of the metal plaque bolted to the doorpost "Wing 1." A cold chill ran down my spine. My body went rigid as Otto’s letter flashed vividly in my mind, the words echoing as if he said it directly to my face "Room 316. Wing 2." No. No. No. No. Oh, God. A sickening wave of realization crashed over me, leaving me breathless. The man in the grey suit… He had smiled, nodded, and gestured me down this hallway. So confident. So sure. And like a fool, I had followed. I had made a mistake. A colossal, irreversible mistake. My stomach twisted violently as the truth settled in, thick and suffocating. I had entered the wrong wing. The wrong room. The wrong bed. I had given myself to a stranger. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. The world tilted, my vision blurred. What had I done? How far is too far? In this encapsulating masterpiesce, Sucre is down for whatever gets him closer to taking revenge on Otto - his twin brother's killer. But, would he really do all that is necessary? Would he chose his ambition over that of Luca the cartel’s underboss and his lover? Can he stop the knife and gun violence on campus and win the five million dollars prize money? Dive into a story of love, betrayal, romance and suspense. The Cartel’s Forbidden Love is a gripping and intriguing read that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

After ten years of being mated, I discovered my aloof Alpha mate had been keeping a sunshine-like Omega lover. That Omega could bring warmth and light to everyone she meets. My Alpha mate, Dominic, who had spent his childhood in the doldrums, was easily attracted by that kind of pure warmth. That very night, I presented him with a mate bond severance agreement. Dominic sneered coldly as he tore up the agreement, throwing a psychiatric evaluation at me instead. "Sign this. Admit you have delusional disorder, and I'll send you to the best mental hospital to live out your days. I know all about your dirty little tricks. I won't give you any chance to hurt her." So, all these years… every little thing I’d done to protect him? To him, it was just despicable scheming. I refused to sign. Dominic had me bound and tortured with silver powder, watching coldly as I convulsed in agony. He even had our two five-year-old pups hung from the bow of massive ships about to collide. "Either sign, or watch them get crushed to pulp. Your call." I dropped to my knees on the deck, banging my head against the wood like a madwoman, begging him to let me sign. But it was too late—I watched helplessly as my pups' small bodies got torn apart by metal shrapnel. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I discovered he was keeping that girl. I decided never to love him again. But after I left him, Dominic suddenly went mad searching for me everywhere.

Liana Elizabeth Rose of the prestigious Rose family woke gasping—remembering everything. At first, she thought it was a dream. Or a hallucination. Maybe heaven, maybe hell, or wherever people go when life has been cruel enough to steal their breath. But the room was the same. The curtains were the same. The smooth, unscarred skin she touched was the same. As if the last five years of betrayal and humiliation had never etched themselves into her. Then the panic hit. She remembered. Every. Single. Thing. The cold metal of prison bars. Her husband Adrian’s dead, beautiful eyes accusing her of the accident. The trial. The cousin who framed her. The family who abandoned her. The little brother who no longer remembered her voice. Her death. And the cruelest truth: she wasn’t even from this world. It was a book a stupid novel her roommate had recommended. She died inside a story she didn’t write. And now, she woke up at the moment everything began to crumble. Fine. Sharpen her mind. Feed her ambition. And when the plot tried to drag her back, she’d pull harder. Then there was him—Adrian. From his point of view, the world shifted. Her scent. Her voice. Her existence. Everything about her crawled under his skin, sank into his bloodstream, coiled around his bones. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to. He only knew: if she breathed, he wanted it. If she moved, he followed. Obsession wasn’t a symptom—it was his nature. And Liana? She had rewritten herself into the one thing he could never let go of. This time, she wasn’t the victim. She wasn’t a plot device. She was the storm. And Adrian? Learning, too late, that even possession has a price.

"Look at the target, Gabe," Derek hissed, his voice a low vibration that settled in my bones. "Imagine it's my heart. Imagine you are finally putting me out of my misery." I was trapped between the cold metal of a gun and the burning heat of his body. My finger trembled on the trigger, but I couldn't pull it. My name is Gabriel. To the world I am the nerdy quiet university student. To Derek Miller, I am his toy. He found my secret sketchbook, page after page of his naked body drawn with obsessive detail. Now, he uses those sketches to keep me on a leash blackmailing me whenever he wants a taste of my dignity. But the nightmare was only beginning. When my religious mother announced she was marrying Derek’s billionaire father my world shattered. My bully wasn't just a ghost from campus anymore, he was my stepbrother. We share a room. We share a bathroom and now my body. He is everywhere I breathe. He claims me. He insults me. He treats me like trash. And the sickest part? I have realized I loved it rough. Our obsessive love is impossible. My mother would disown me, the Miller name would be tarnished, and Derek’s tough love is starting to leave scars I can't hide. Just as I am about to break, a new guy enters the picture someone who promises to love me softly. Someone who doesn't smell like gin and danger. But in the dark world of the Millers, safety is a lie. Now I have to choose: Do I run toward a peaceful future, or do I stay with the devil I already know?

Trigger Warning: This story explores difficult themes including emotional and physical abuse, coercion, non-consensual drugging, obsession, and trauma. Reader discretion is advised. Love. Lust. Obsession. Three very different men, but they all have one thing in common... Me. I was just a waitress. A woman with burned bridges and a dream of starting over. I thought I was finally free. A clean slate. I was so close... so close to gaining the independence I fought so hard for, until darkness came again, only this time… tenfold. One’s lust wants to own me. Another’s obsession seeks to break me. The third... I’m drawn to. He treated me like no one else did. I thought I could trust him. Then something shifted. Something terrifying. Hope fades when your body is not yours, your voice is silenced, and freedom is denied. --- As my fingertips brushed the smooth metal surface of the handle, claw-like fingers sank into my fleshy hips. I cried out in pure terror, the wind knocked out of me as my back slammed against his chest. “You’re really not leaving without saying goodbye to me, are you, sweetheart?” he growled. His eyes glowed an eerie garnet. “Remember, you belong to me now, Laura. If you ever dare run, I’ll lock you away where no one will find you,” he snarled, his coarse face scraping against mine. --- I’ve survived everything up to this point... Now, I’m not sure I can. They say I belong to them... Yet what if I was never meant to belong to anyone?