MTL - Steel, Guns and the Industrial Party Across the World - Chapter 555 collapse

[MATURE CONTENT]“Are you mating with someone?”Stunned, she took a step back, widening the space between them. “ Excuse me?”“Ah…” A sigh left his lips. “ Perhaps, I need to rephrase my question. Are you f*cking someone?”She sucked in a quick breath, not knowing what to say. Anger reared itself in her head, mixing with unexpected desire. Sadly, desire was winning.He lifted an eyebrow, and in the next instant, he was already standing in front of her body. Her instincts kicked in. She took a couple steps back until her back hit the wall.The smell of chocolates and almonds rolled between them. Entranced, she thought she smelled the sweetness of the wine but it disappeared as quickly as it came.“I don’t think that is any of your business, Mr. Graydon.” she made a sound of annoyance.“Is it not?” His breath fractured, his eyes darkened with desire.“No.” Her lips quivered at her obvious denial. She mustered all the courage she could, hoping he wouldn’t smell her arousal. She knew it was for naught.His fingers lightly brushed her cheeks, then they trailed down her neck, lingering on her collarbone, the contact sent shivers down her spine. It awakened the primal need she had been wanting to hide since they met.She wanted him.No.She needed him, inside her.Her face flushed at the thought of him taking her, preferably right against these walls.“You want me,” he stated. ““As much as I want you.”Shocked by her own raw and potent yearning, she turned her head away.“I don’t…”“Shhh…” he silenced her with a finger. Then he inched closer, so close his long lashes brushed against her cheek. Her heart pounded like a drum against her chest, fast and hot in anticipation.“Now tell me little one… do I need to get rid of someone before I make you beg me to let you come?”......Is love worth the chaos it brings?.....Tags: #lycans #witch #strongfemalelead #strongmalelead #norape #smut #mates #slowburn

The most unlike Slytherin.

There is a saying in the Slytherin common room, “The little wizard who disobeys will be eaten by the Night Stalker.”

He is the master of the stars that shines at Hogwarts, the Night Stalker who is feared by his enemies.

The glory made him the pride of Slytherin.

When the Dark Lord arrived, he said those words,

“Weapons, I need a lot of weapons.”

With a staff in his left hand and a sword in his right hand, everyone would shout for him: “Damn the Sorting Hat, is this Slytherin?”

When the stars return to Hogwarts, John Wick’s light will shine on the entire wizarding world.

- Description from novelbuddy

A little ruffian who fought recklessly without any morals and bottomline accidentally time-traveled to parallel space and became a Key Case Investigation Team agent. The huge change in identity had him creating chaos in the police station. However, a strange miracle system helped him repeatedly solve mysterious cases, turning him into an impudent ruffian detective!

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.