Usopp Crying Novels & Stories

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

I had been engaged to Atlas Payne, a powerful CEO, for five years. This was the 21st time he had canceled our wedding ceremony. The first time, his secretary, Jasmine Scott, sprained her ankle. He left me by the roadside and rushed to the hospital. The second time, Jasmine cried and made a scene on the eve of our wedding, so he left me alone on the red carpet. The Payne family was powerful, while I was merely the daughter of a housekeeper. Therefore, everyone advised me to just deal with his mood swings. Every time Atlas left me behind, he would solemnly apologize and promise me that the next wedding attempt would definitely go smoothly. I kept believing him. Even though I was not the family's legitimate mistress, I still handled all the family affairs for him. I waited and waited, but the wedding ceremony never came. All I received was news that Jasmine was pregnant. This time, I had no reason to convince myself to stay. "I will never let you leave my side. If you ever disappear, I’ll make sure to use my family's influence to find you." The sweet words he once said to me were now a cage that trapped me. On Christmas Day, I prepared to leave him for good. I started a fire at home. Even the most powerful family would not be able to find someone who was supposedly dead. Years later, I unexpectedly came across Atlas kneeling at my ‘grave’. He was always so stern, but now, he was crying and begging me to come home and see him again.

..."Fucking take my cock like a good little slut." Jenna could only sob and cling to his shoulders as he fucked her into the mattress, too overwhelmed by sensation to do anything else. She could feel Alex behind her, suddenly, rubbing his own sticky cock between her ass cheeks, teasingly. "Please," she whimpered brokenly. "Need you both..." One midnight train ride turned Jenna into a dripping, hole-wrecked mess. A brutal stranger fucked her raw in the aisle until she squirted across the seats. A bathroom quickie left another man’s cum leaking down her thighs. Then the Syndicate came for her. Now she’s collared, caged, and passed between powerful men who stretch every hole past breaking. Electro-clamped nipples, inflating plugs, double-cock DP marathons, throat-fucked until she’s crying cum-bubbles, and public gangbangs while strangers watch and film. She was supposed to escape. Instead, she begs to be filled again… and again… and again. Begging unleashes hell; electro-clamps fry swollen tits to gushing orgasms; inflating plugs stretch pussy/ass to tearing screams; caged like a bitch as Master's paddle cracks welts bloody-red. MMF savagery explodes, where dual cocks grind through her thin walls in DP creampie marathons, throat-bulging face-fucks choke her on twin loads, and every hole is plugged/leaking/stuffed in endless breed-chains. Collaring brands her eternal Syndicate cum-pet, public gangbangs, zap-torture squirts, and piss-soaked submission. Raw, relentless, and hole-ruining ecstasy. Will Jenna escape the Syndicate's cock-collar... or beg to be their forever-drenched fucktoy?... Or get trapped back to David?

I was born with a gift: the rare ability to bear powerful hybrid children for a vampire. I should have been cherished for it. Instead, my mother died young, her inheritance seized by my stepmother, my father's affection stolen by my stepsister. Only Ryan, heir to the vampire King, treated me with gentleness. When I was young, he fell for me at first sight and was secretly in love with me for two years. Later, at a gala, someone pushed me into a frozen lake. He was the one who pulled me out. He bent close, his eyes soft. “Marry me. Let me protect you.” I said yes without hesitation. Because no one had ever stood beside me so surely. I loved him with everything I had. When assassins struck at our wedding, I even stepped in front of the bullet meant for his heart. But after I dragged my weakened body through childbirth and gave him his child, he appeared before me with my stepsister Vicky in his arms. “You have no use to me anymore.” Ryan's eyes were cold and foreign. “The person I love has always been Vicky.” He had chosen me only for my bloodline, purer, better suited to produce an heir. Vicky smiled and drove the knife into my chest. Ryan stood to one side and watched me die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Ryan proposed. Vicky was crying, begging to take my place and marry him instead. This time, I closed my eyes. “All right. I agree to the exchange.”

My wife Susan had the power to save lives, but when our son was rushed to the ICU and needed her help, she refused no matter how much I begged. While I was crying myself hoarse when I received news that our son was dead, I heard her purring over the phone, "Mark? Don't worry, your puppy's way more important. Of course I'll save it." There was a limit to her power that she could only use it once a month, but she nonchalantly used it for Mark's pet dog! Shaking with rage, I seized her by the collar and bellowed, "We're talking about a human life here, and your son at that! But an animal is worth more than that?!" Susan shook me off, smirking in disdain. "Mark has always been by himself—is there a problem that I took his side? And what could happen to our son when he has his daddy? Stop giving me that attitude!" Just two hours later, Mark posted on social media a photo of him with Susan kissing his pet dog together, with the smug caption: [Who had bet that a son matters more than a dog? Know when you're beaten. Now pay up!] So he had a bet with someone that Susan would choose his dog! Worst of all, Susan lovingly replied: [If Mark wants to win, I'll always be there for him.] Even as I felt heartrending pain, I was laughing coldly as I sent my own reply. [If you all love to bet so much, why not bet when you're gonna drop dead?]

For ten long years, Ravelle Celeste Branson kept her identity as the sole heiress of Branson Group tightly hidden for the sake of an illusion of genuine love from Kyle Stevens. But on the night of their 10th wedding anniversary, that illusion shattered into pieces. Ravelle caught Kyle passionately making out with his secretary in the CEO's office. That betrayal was merely the tip of the iceberg. The true blow of reality struck when the Civil Registry Office revealed a cruel fact: in the eyes of the law, Ravelle had been secretly removed and divorced eight years earlier through the manipulation of a stack of documents she had blindly signed. Returning home with a heart as cold as ice, a secret safe uncovered an even more disgusting conspiracy. The little girl she had raised with all her heart and soul was not an adopted child, but the biological daughter of Kyle and his mistress. Even worse, Ravelle's body had been poisoned with microdoses of heavy metals for years—a vicious scheme designed to render her infertile and slowly kill her. They thought Ravelle was a weak woman with no one to protect her, someone who could be discarded after being drained of everything she had. They were terribly mistaken. With Erlan El Salvador Jhins, the genius CEO who was ready to level Manhattan to protect her, standing by her side, the crown heiress rose from her emotional death. Ravelle returned to reclaim her throne, crush Stevens Group into the ruins of bankruptcy, and send the traitors to the deepest hell. When Kyle finally fell to his knees at her feet, crying tears of blood and begging for forgiveness, Ravelle merely looked at him with the coldest smile. "I'm sorry, my ex-husband. Your regret came too late."

Content Warning: This story contains a significant amount of adult content, including sexual material, alcohol, and violence. Reader discretion is advised. Moans echoed back and forth inside one of the rooms of a five star hotel in Stockholm, Sweden. The young woman could not hold herself back from crying out as a tall, powerfully built man above her moved relentlessly, his muscular body driving into hers. Their bodies were slick with sweat, the act of two people joining fueled by raw desire. “Damn it, you’re so tight and incredible, Lexi. You always satisfy me, you always bring me perfectly to my climax,” Austin said, struggling to catch his breath after release. Alexi turned onto her side, her hand tracing every inch of Austin Stanley’s damp skin, the man who had just made love to her. “You know this is wrong, don’t you, Austin? What we have isn’t right. Why do you trap me in a labyrinth that makes me lose my way?” “If you’re lost, call only me. I’m the only one you should ever call, Alexi Mauren. Only me, Austin Stanley, can guide you. Do you understand?” Austin leaned in, capturing her thin lips. “Listen to me. As long as I’m by your side, I’ll make sure your world stays safe.” Alexi wavered. Being entangled in a forbidden relationship with someone she should never have had was something that could never truly last. What if the world discovered their illicit affair? Would it still show her kindness? Or would the world turn its back on her completely?

“What is your proudest moment alive?” “That I hate my family.” Rosie Ellery hates her family. Her parents don’t even bother to hide the fact that they treat both children differently. Rosie never gets the proper life she deserves, while her step-disabled-sister, gets it all. Rosie knows she should get out of this fuck up house before her parents sell her to a stranger. Alex Angelo graduated from a good college and has a decent job as an editor in a magazine company. Mrs. Angelo is a single parent and rarely home because she travels a lot for work, which Alex and Ayle, his sister, are being grateful for. In conclusion, Alex Angelo has a stable life. Or at least that’s what he would like to believe. Rosie Ellery and Alex Angelo meet through a social experiment run by Your Daily Updates! Magazine. The blonde screams everything but his mom’s approval. After what Ayle has been through, Alex knows better than to try his luck. But damn... You only live once. ‘Let’s play with the fire. Better crying for the result than dying in curiosity.’ For the first time, the obedient puppy chooses to stop pleasing other souls, but a certain blonde. Growing up in a fuck up house, makes Rosie Ellery realize one thing. ‘I’ve had enough of people who doesn’t value my worth. Go fuck yourself if you don’t like me.’ “Let me teach you how to forgive people and move on with your life.” “And why would I do that?” “So you can start a new life with me, obviously?”

She underwent a death experience—at the hands of the family she cared for most, who then sold her off. At eight years old, Seraphina Valeza was adopted from an orphanage by the Hawthorne family, a run-down third-rate family in Lunada City. She lived for fifteen years there, always careful, thankful for a house that was not her home. She was an excellent student, kept her sufferings to herself, and obeyed them in return for their "kindness." When the Hawthorne family was on the verge of bankruptcy, they chose survival over conscience. Seraphina was forced to marry Julian Moreau, the heir of a second-rate elite family. The marriage was hell. Behind closed doors, Julian humiliated her, controlled her every move, and crushed her dignity. In public, she was paraded as a trophy wife; in private, she was nothing more than a disposable tool. Once Julian seized full control of the Hawthorne family, Seraphina lost even her last value. With no way out, she resorted to suicide. But destiny wanted otherwise and gave her another chance. She found herself in the same spot as she was on the day of her marriage. This time she did neither crying nor begging. Instead, she smiled and switched the groom. In front of stunned guests, Seraphina walked past Julian and stopped before a man sitting casually at the banquet table, dressed out of place and enjoying the food as if the wedding had nothing to do with him. Lucien Cross. The annoying guy she constantly quarreled with in college. The man who cried while carrying her dying body in her past life. The one whose love she came to realize onlqy when it was too late. This time, Seraphina will not let him go. And all those who wronged her will be punished, without exception.

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."