Vocaloid Crack

For six years, I was secretly in love with my stepbrother, Connor, the Alpha of our wolf pack. One full moon night, I snuck into his pack's corporate headquarters, hoping to surprise him. But through a crack in the door, I heard him whispering with his Beta, Marcus. "You still messing around with your stepsister, that Aria? When are you gonna cut it off? Don't tell me you've actually caught feelings for her?" Connor smirked, his voice ice-cold. "Feelings? She's just a beta who threw herself at me. A freebie, why not? My Luna will only ever be Elena." "Her father betrayed the pack and got kicked out. And her mother seduced mine, got my own mother killed. Six years... that's just been me punishing her. She deserves everything she gets." So, the mate bond I treasured... it was all just a carefully planned revenge. All his sweet nothings, his gentle touches... they were all lies, laced with poison. Fine. If that's how it is, I'm leaving. Hope you won't regret it.

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

After three years of marriage, I suddenly began to realize that my wife might have a low libido. One evening, my older neighbor, who was sympathetic, kindly invited me over. That night, I stumbled upon his wife in the middle of a passionate entanglement with another man through a crack in the door. The next day, my neighbor said to me, "Hey, Cyril, you know, Heather has always liked you."

On the day of the wedding, Galen Shaw forces me to crack walnuts with my bare hands for his so-called female buddy. My expression goes cold, and I refuse outright. "My hands are for holding a scalpel, not cracking walnuts for her!" He only chuckles and orders someone to hold me down. Then, he glues the walnuts to my palms himself. One by one, he slams them against the ground. "You cheated while studying medicine. Now that you've married me, forget about ever being a doctor again!" I grit my teeth through the pain. My fingers are aching, but I try to explain. "I went abroad to study medicine for you!" His so-called female buddy sneers in a shrill voice. "All that talk about the Shaw family's hereditary disease is nonsense! Galen has been perfectly healthy for over 20 years. Don't tell me you just want another excuse to cozy up with your precious senior?" The moment those words leave her lips, the faint thought of having someone bandage my hand disappears. A shadow crosses Galen's face. "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson!" He throws me into the basement and locks me there for three days. By the time I crawl out, my hands are completely ruined. Later, when Galen's hereditary disease finally surfaces, the doctor tries to comfort him. "This disease may be terminal, but there is still a way. Dr. Robinson has just returned from overseas. She's the only one in the world who can perform this surgery. "I hear that she's your wife."

Еmily Whites, a twenty-fоur-year-оld florist living a quiet life in Venezuela, aссidentally sеnds a dinner invitаtion tо thе wrong number. Instead of hеr bеst friend, thе reciрient is Zaсk Тorres, a feared mafia leader ruling ovеr Americа. Whеn Zaсk shows up аt hеr doorstеp, Еmily’s wоrld is turnеd upside down. Knоwn for his ruthless nаture, Zaсk is surprisеd tо find himsеlf drawn tо Еmily's kindnеss аnd innoсenсe. As thеir livеs intertwine, Zaсk’s cold exteriоr bеgins tо crack, reveаling a man who wоuld burn thе wоrld down tо proteсt Еmily. Yet, Еmily is tоrn—can shе trust this dangerous man who claims tо lovе hеr, or is hеr hеart simply аfrаid of thе рower hе hоlds? With Marсellus, Zaсk’s vengeful rival, targeting Еmily tо destroy Zaсk, thеir lovе is put tо thе ultimаte tеst. Will thеir cоnnectiоn survive thе stоrm thаt threаtens tо teаr thеm аpаrt, or will Еmily’s fear ovеrshadow thе lovе Zaсk is desperаte tо show hеr?

Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it became an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. **** Her husband was a monster, but he'd saved her from her past and a life of torture. She loved him like every captive grew to love their captor. Everything went to hell, however, when she fought back and ran from home, stumbling into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now hellbent on killing her. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She really should have remembered that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her all the way to Italy. If she had, maybe she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.

A writer once said, "We don't need down jackets in summer, fans in winter, and attention after we're disappointed." After the breakup, I became happy and even found myself. Thanks for letting me go. This is a series of stories after breakups. A relationship may not necessarily make people happier, but a breakup will definitely do it. “Seven Ear Piercings” I had a secret relationship with my stepmother's son. When we broke up, it became particularly unpleasant. One day, he got drunk and intercepted me in the bathroom. He said, "I'm a masochist. We'll torment each other until our hair turns grey. What can you do to me?" “Blind Date With an Undercover Cop” I never expected to meet him again. The last time I saw him, he was a clumsy barista who messed up my order nine times in a row. I felt sorry for him, so I tried to crack a joke. "Hey, are you an undercover cop?" He looked startled and denied it quickly. But as soon as I left the cafe, he locked the door and disappeared. Later on, we ran into each other again. He stopped me and said, "You're under arrest, because you have stolen my heart, darling."

"Cum now, princess." Zeke ordered as he flicked open the lock on the cock cage around Eli's cock and his body convulsed as the long-denied orgasm tore through him. --------- ‎“I need you to—fuck—I need you to hurt me.” ‎There. The silence came. Not shameful. Not violent. Just truth. ‎Zeke ripped the shirt from Eli’s back. calculated. His belt snapped once. Eli flinched, eyes wild. ‎“You don't get color,” Zeke said flatly. “You say red, I won't stop. And until I'm sure you're tamed, I don’t care if you beg. You wanted to feel something? You’re going to feel everything.” ‎The first crack of the belt made Eli jolt. The second had him gasping. ‎By the fifth, he was moaning. ‎By the seventh, he whispered Zeke’s name like a prayer. ------ Two lovers. Then three. Eventually four. A relationship built on dominance, obsession, and unrestrained desire. ‎No contracts. No safe words. No rules—just raw, brutal fucking. A war of ownership. A battle for control. A dangerous game that turns a dominant into a trembling switch under the right hands. ‎ ‎What happens when a dominant with a submissive lover becomes the fixation of another dominant—one with darkness in his veins and sadism in his smile? ‎ ‎What happens when the confident, untouchable dom unravels, his hidden masochism dragged to the surface by the only man ruthless enough to tame him? ‎ ‎What happens when a discarded, shame-soaked nymph, branded an abomination by her family, falls into the hands of three lovers who have no intention of letting her go—who will worship, ruin her, and show her that her hunger isn't sin... it's survival? A twisted journey of control, obsession, and raw desire—unfolding across three sinful tales: Loved in the Dark. Fucked into Obedience. Seduction and Sin.

Run, Run, RUN. Don’t stop. The night was falling and like the creatures of the day, I needed to hide. My heart is thundering in my chest, echoing the sounds of the war that rage from the fields of my once loved home. That was before the coven came. Surprising us and taking my home and pack. The attack happened so quickly that no one was ready. We had no warning and after hours of waiting I was found. I had to run. Don't stop running. “CRACK” the current of magic shoots by and hits the tree to my left, my bare feet crunching the earth hard and fast. My small heart fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings, my once sparkling beautiful dress is no more. It’s tattered, dirty, and torn. The edges burnt to a crisp and coated in blood from bodies of the battlefield that I raced away from. “Come here little wolfie,” a harsh raspy voice calls out cutting through the trees I hide quickly behind a tree to take cover to breathe, “I just want a little chat!” He calls singsong like, taunting me. He wants to find me to kill me. Ducking further behind my tree I hold my breath, my young body shaking with so much force my bones ache. Holding my breath and closing my eyes hoping for safety that surely won’t come. At only 11 years of age, I can’t fight this grown warlock... he will surely kill me like he did my parents... “Wolfie princess, where are you?” He mimics the rhythm of a child’s tune, as if I’d listen. Closing my eyes tighter I don’t want to die. I’m too young. My mind is racing, and my hearts bound t....

The day I was supposed to win the biggest award of my career, I walked in on my boyfriend, Ethan, in bed with another woman. He sneered, calling me a face-blind, scent-deaf bore in bed. I planned to expose his ass at the award ceremony. Instead, he and his lover mowed me down with their car. Next thing I knew, I woke up with them in an S-class horror survival game. Mortality rate: over 95%. We had to survive ten days in a haunted manor to be revived. Hit 100 on your Anxiety Level, and your soul is obliterated. Chloe, Ethan's lover, sneered. "Sensory defects? You can't recognize ghosts or smell danger. In a horror game, that’s a death sentence. You might as well just die." The others heard her and scrambled to team up. Me? I walked straight into the lair of the manor's final boss. The most powerful demon in the game wanted to devour my soul. I couldn't really see him. I just thought he was a cosplayer. I lunged forward, poked his abs, and pointed at the glowing crack in his chest. "Wow, you're really committed to the role. This getup must've cost a fortune."