Novel & Cerita Polnareff Crying

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

I was Alpha Damian Jones' fated mate. At the mating ceremony, he had made a Blood Moon vow in front of my pack. He had claimed that I, Eva Lopez, would be his one and only Luna in this lifetime. It had been the happiest moment in my life. Seven years had passed since then, and yet I was still a virgin—an untouched Luna who had yet to be marked by her Alpha. Still, I was willing to live my life like this. But not long ago, Damian returned from the battlefield with a she-wolf by his side. She was Chloe Lane, the daughter of the Bloodfang pack's Alpha. He told me that she was here as a guest and that I should take good care of her. I treated Chloe like a little sister of mine and took great care of her. That was, until I decided to visit her with a glass of warm milk one night. When I reached her room, I heard suppressed, breathless moans coming from inside the room. Next, I heard Damian's husky voice. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

BLURB Loud cheers and applause rang on the air. Agnes smiled widely and hugged her husband’s arm in joy. It was their wedding day, and she was so happy that she can barely contain it. Perhaps it was the feeling called above the clouds? She looked up, wanting to see the happiness in her husband’s, Leon, eyes. He was also smiling, but what contained his eyes and barely obvious intent hidden behind his smile made Agnes shudder as fear slowly showed its way inside her whole body. Her smile faded. Her husband was smiling. He was smiling with joy, not because he was happy with the wedding- he was smiling like a beast who has their prey on his foot- [CLANG!] Before Agnes knew it, the shouts of happiness were replaced by cries of despair. The claps and applause was replaced by hurtful sounds of slaps. The colorful, bright and joyous venue was replaced by dark, damp and scary room. Agnes just saw her pathetic self on the corner of that room; she was still and was looking at nowhere. She remained motionless, but in her mind, she was trembling in fear and helplessly crying in despair; “Please help me out from here!”

When my wife's first love was injured in a car accident and urgently needed a kidney transplant, she gave me an ultimatum. If I refused to donate my kidney, she said she would take our daughter and die alongside him the very next day. Crying, she begged. "Can you stop being so selfish? It's only one kidney. "It's not like you'll die! Are you really going to force me and your daughter to our deaths?" With a bitter smile, I agreed. What she didn't know was that our daughter had already died in the very same car accident that injured her beloved first love. And I was suffering from end-stage kidney failure. Once I went through with the surgery, I wouldn't be far behind from death either. Since she was willing to sacrifice everything for the man she loved, then I would give her exactly what she wanted. I would make her the person responsible for both my death and our daughter's so she would have to live with that regret for the rest of her life.

Yes Sir: Steamy BL Shorts You shouldn’t want it this bad. You definitely shouldn’t be leakíng just thinking about it. But when the man who controls your apartment / your job / your car keys steps too close and says “On your knees. Now.” your body betrays you before your brain can catch up. These aren’t love stories. They’re short, fílthy lessons in what happens when a younger boy forgets who’s in charge. He pins your wrists above your head. He spreads you with rough fingers first — then with something much thicker. He pucks you until your legs give out, until you’re crying into the sheets/car hood/desk, until you’re so fúll of him that every step afterward reminds you who you belong to tonight. One word unlocks everything: “Yes, Sir.” And once you say it… you don’t get to take it back. Standalone. Addictive. Filthy. You’re going to read one chapter and immediately need the next.

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back.

My name is Mark Thompson. Not long after I became a mortician, I came down with a strange condition. The moment I touch a corpse, I see their final memories play out before my eyes. It's not that I enjoy sticking my nose into other people's business. Those visions just force their way into my head. The first body my mentor ever had me restore belonged to a wealthy young man who'd been mangled in a car crash. The second I touched his shattered neck, I couldn't stop myself from saying something to the grieving family beside me. "His car didn't malfunction. The brake line was cut. "The cutters are still hidden beneath the spare tire in his wife's trunk." The crying stopped instantly, and everyone turned to stare at the woman who had been pretending to mourn. Two weeks later, she was arrested. She had hired someone to kill her husband and staged the murder as a traffic accident. After that, people from both sides of the law started lining up outside the funeral home in the middle of the night.

I woke up in the middle of the night to find my wife crying and begging me to let her see that young man one last time. "I’ll come right back after seeing him one last time. Please, I’m begging you." In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me in such a pleading, ingratiating tone. The last time was when I caught the kid running out of her office, his clothes in disarray. Afraid I’d make a scene, she grabbed my hand and pleaded, "Honey, I promise I’ll cut him off. Please don’t divorce me. I’ll die without you." So, I gave her another chance. Just as she promised, she devoted herself to our family, becoming the perfect wife everyone admired. Until today. I turned on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and told her seriously, "Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets." I had no regrets left. I hoped the same for you.

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.

When I was diagnosed with terminal Inner Wolf Decay, a System found me. It told me that if I could win the wholehearted romantic or familial love of just one out of four specific werewolves, I would get a healthy body and live. But for five years, I failed to win over a single one. Because they all fell for the same Omega—the fragile, hypocritical Chloe. Just because she framed me, claiming I ordered rogues to attack her, my targets glared at me with nothing but absolute disgust. My biological brother, Caleb, told me, "I don't have a sister as vicious as you." My pack healer, Julian, didn't believe I suffered from depression. He glared at me with revulsion and said, "Chloe is the one who got hurt. Stop playing the victim." My childhood friend, Victor, stared at me coldly. "You're so toxic. I really wish you'd just die." Later, just as they wished, my mission failed, and my inner wolf was actually going to die. But then, they were the ones crying and begging me not to go.