Eyes Crying

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

Mallory is a simple Human with a life where everybody loved her. Including her Husband Helios. But one person changed everything. “What lies did Madeline tell you this time that you had to yanked me out of the bed?” I ask calmly. “Get rid of it.” He said angrily. Confused I stared at him. “Don’t play dumb with me. Get that fucking thing growing in you aborted!” He says and my eyes widen. And how could he refer to our baby as just a thing he could easily can get rid of? “No!” I say and he laughed. He then carried me screaming and crying begging him, and he placed me on the hospital bed. “Ben, get that thing removed from her now!” He commanded. After 5 years later, Mallory comes back but without any memory of him. When it’s too late, does he deserve to be forgiven? Or he should just forget about her and move like she did? After all, they are mates.

" I am pregnant," I said timidly caressing my flat belly hoping that he will be happy hearing the news. After all, he is going to be a father. He said chewing the food," Abort it." He said it so usually like it's the obvious thing to say at this situation. My eyes get watered immediately. I said crying," It's my first baby. I want to give birth to this baby." "I have told my decision already. You can never have my baby," He said finishing his food. " Why can't I have it? please, let me have it, I replied tightening my hold on my belly. He said banging his palm on the table," You will not listen like that." Saying that he dragged me towards the staircase and said creepily almost pushing me on the stairs," Just one push and the result will be same. Mistresses are for pleasure not for bearing children. So, don't forget your place." Warning - There are several mature content. If your are under 18 then don't read.

The night before our Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Ryker of the Howling Moon Pack, ordered me to give him the Moon Soul Crystal—the very thing that protected my pack, the Willow Creek Pack. He said he needed it to power up the Howling Moon Pack's Blood Moon Altar. He also promised he'd keep me and my people safe. But he didn't know that we, the healers of the Willow Creek Pack, can only create one Moon Soul Crystal in our entire lives. Making one takes a crazy amount of moon energy. It's the treasure that keeps our pack alive. My mother, worried about me using up my moon energy while I was pregnant, gave up her own Moon Soul Crystal instead. But just three months after Ryker and I were mated, she got sick, fast. She was dying. I knelt in front of Ryker, crying, begging him for the Silverleaf Herb from the Howling Moon's forbidden grounds. It was the only thing that could save my mom. But he just looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment, and kicked me away. "I asked for the Moon Soul Crystal to test you," he snarled. "And just as I thought, you married me for our pack's treasures! Your mother's not sick. You're making it all up!" "You don't deserve to be the Luna of the Howling Moon Pack!" It wasn't until after my mother died, when he was arguing with me, trying to kick me out of the pack, that my mother's things fell and scattered everywhere. Her Soul Stone, the symbol of a wolf's spirit, shattered. That's when he finally realized he was wrong. He fell to his knees, begging me not to leave, crying for me to forgive him.

The year of my college entrance exams, I gave up my acceptance to Harvard for James Carter. But after five years into our relationship, I ended it. Outside the dorm building, I caught him holding Sarah Williams, who was dripping in designer labels, locked in a passionate kiss. James smirked, "You're just a simple farmer. What kind of life could you possibly offer me?" But he seemed to forget that I had bought him everything - from his tailored Tom Ford suit to his Rolex watch. Heartbroken, I walked away. If someone else wanted to be a doormat for him, they could be my guest - I was done. Later, I focused on growing my agricultural business, eventually expanding into space farming. That's when the media uncovered my true identity as the heiress to a multi-billion dollar fortune. Mr. Williams groveled, forcing Sarah to kneel beside him, begging me to consider a business partnership. James, his eyes red from crying, grabbed my sleeve and said he regretted everything.

Jane Foster's twin sister was defiled and died before her wedding. Amidst her family's crisis, Jane was called to shed her armor and marry in her sister's place, thus becoming the country's queen. The tyrant king's first love was long dead. All the concubines in the harem were merely inferior distractions. The only person he adored was the royal concubine, Lady Helena, who resembled his first love the most. Meanwhile, Jane was nothing like his first love. Everyone thought the tyrant king would get sick of her and have her dethroned sooner or later. As expected, the king and the queen were on the verge of a divorce. However, instead of the queen being on the receiving end of the divorce, it was the king. That very night, the tyrant king tugged at the hem of Jane's dress. "You can leave, but only over my dead body!" The concubines were crying their eyes out while they stopped the tyrant king and called out to Jane, "Your Majesty, please don't leave us. If you must leave, take us with you!"

I married Eleanor Vance on the very same day her true love was getting married next door. Just as we were about to exchange rings, the man himself stormed into our ceremony. Red-eyed and shaking, he announced that the only woman he'd ever loved was Eleanor and that he couldn't go through with marrying the fiancee waiting for him, the one battling a terminal illness. Eleanor didn't even look at me. She pulled her hand from mine and ran after him. I was left standing there, humiliated, while my mother was so angry she ended up in the hospital. Later, the abandoned bride and I caught each other's eyes for a moment. I asked quietly, "Do you want to switch grooms?" Three years passed before Eleanor came back. She was crying, saying she regretted everything. But I scooped up both kids from the backseat, one in each arm. I stepped aside and said, "Excuse me. I'm in a hurry to pick up my wife from work."

After finally feeling her career rising as an actress, Adrienne suddenly received a call from her long-time boyfriend. He selfishly broke up with Adrienne leaving her angry and lonely. But suddenly, while crying, a man introduced himself as his fiancee. Adrienne's life turned upside down for good.

Regretting the person you once loved is the most tragic kind of love. The butterflies, the heartbeats, and the gazes are all for nothing if you had already lost without even gearing up for a fight. In this world where happy ever after ends with a seal, tragedy is just about to begin, in which crying is its real ending.

I shatter, crying out his name, my whole body shaking. He doesn't stop, just licks me through it until I'm pushing at his head, oversensitive. He stands, mouth and chin glistening, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Strip," he orders. "I want you naked. Want to see every inch of what belongs to me." I scramble to obey, unhooking my bra with shaking hands while he strips. And god, his body. All muscle and scattered scars and that massive cock standing thick and hard against his stomach. I lick my lips without thinking and he notices, eyes darkening. "You want to taste it?" He wraps his hand around himself, stroking slowly. "Want this cock in your pretty mouth?" "Yes—" "Then get on your knees and show me how much you missed it." ••• Welcome to YES! DADDIES–– a dangerously HOT compilation of filthy, steamy, downright sinful short stories. Readers discretion is THOROUGHLY advised... this 18+ story doesn’t do well with clean underwear.