Death Note Short Stories

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.

**Mature Audience Only** This is a collection of steamy short stories, showing that a relationship does not need to be all about s*x... But its a good start... The first story was about Luke, who had a chance to be a tutor to the girl he was in love with. Will they have happy endings? See and find out.

Don’t Stop: Short Erotica Tales is a red-hot compilation of standalone short stories exploring forbidden desire, raw power, and explosive passion. From fake marriages that ignite into rough, bed-shattering sex to hate-fueled hookups where exes tear into each other against walls, skirts hiked, thrusts punishing and deep. Forbidden affairs, crazy age gap, captive fantasies, one-night stands turned addictive. Each tale delivers explicit, no-holds-barred heat: teasing oral, hard spanks, multiple breathless orgasms, and dominant men who take control while fierce women push back and beg for more. Short, filthy, and intensely satisfying. Perfect for readers who crave scorching erotica that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Three days after my death, Dominic Sharp receives a phone call asking him to identify my body. He has an arm wrapped around a woman's waist as he says indifferently, "I couldn't care less if she's dead. Call me once she's been cremated." My body is sent to the crematorium. After putting the ashes into an urn, an employee calls Dominic again. He clucks his tongue impatiently. "Alright, alright. I'll be there soon."

After her father’s death leaves behind nothing but a ten-million-euro blood debt, Graziella is dragged into the world of the Vitale brothers, men who rule the city’s underworld with violence, power, and a loyalty that has no room for mercy, and who, by law and history, are also her stepbrothers. In their hands, debt is not something to be repaid but something to be owned, and because her father failed them, Graziella becomes the collateral they inherit, allowed to exist only as long as she remains useful and silent. For months, she survives by making herself small, enduring cruelty and indifference alike, learning that in a house built on fear, silence is not submission but survival. To the Vitale brothers, she is temporary, a problem that will eventually disappear once its value is exhausted. Everything changes when the eldest announces his political marriage, a union meant to secure alliances and erase liabilities, and Graziella realizes how easily she will be discarded. Instead of begging, she makes a single request: thirty days as their wife and queen, not as property but as a recognized presence, after which she will vanish forever. They believe she is desperate. They believe she wants protection or love. What they fail to see is that Graziella is not bargaining for affection, but for access. Because in those thirty days, she watches, listens, and learns, and by the time they understand what she has become, the quiet debt they ignored will be ready to rule them all.

After the cruise ship strikes a hidden reef, panicked passengers shove me and Kristen Langford into the sea. My boyfriend, Elijah Jensen, is the ship's captain, so he plunges into the water. But instead of saving me, he grabs Kristen and boards the last lifeboat. I thrash and cry for help, but he slaps my hand away. "You can swim. Stop pretending for attention!" Elijah snaps. "Kristen's body temperature is dropping. I have to get her to a hospital!" The waters around me are pitch-black, and his words feel like a death sentence. When the tracking bracelet I always wear is discovered inside a shark, Elijah dives alone into shark-infested waters, searching for three days and nights. In the end, the brilliant captain who once ruled the oceans can never sail again.

My parents died when I was ten years old, but a big shot in Jade City adopted me. It was rumored that Sean Graham was a cruel and violent man, but he doted on me for nearly ten years. He booked the advertising screens in the city to celebrate my birthday and promised to marry me when I got drunk and pestered him about it. I called him Uncle Sean at his request. Fear gripped me when I woke up in his bed every morning, but I kept it a secret. Yet one time, we accidentally slept with each other. I got pregnant with his child and wanted to keep it, but I knew I would not live for much longer. One day, I heard his conversation with a servant. “Clean up Zella’s room for Yulia.” “But Mr. Graham, Miss Cooper has been staying there for ten years. Didn’t you design it for her?” “No, I only let her stay there because Yulia had gone abroad.” I touched my belly as disappointment gripped me. It turned out that the man who had promised to provide me with a home as long as he lived wanted to drive me away.

My life was left behind in that church fire. When the flames broke out, Cersei lied to me and said Jaeren was still inside. I didn't hesitate. I rushed into the fire without a second thought, only to save my fiancé, Jaeren. Then Cersei shoved me into the flames. By the time Jaeren found us, he picked Cersei up and turned away. He never looked back at me. I was swallowed little by little by the smoke and fire. Later, I stumbled out of the fire alone, covered in soot from head to toe. Jaeren frowned, his face full of impatience. “I didn't take you out first, sure. But couldn't you just call yourself a cab?” “Be glad Cersei is unharmed. Even your death in that fire wouldn’t clear your fault.” He didn't know that I had already suffocated to death in the flames. The one who walked out of the ruins was nothing more than a body still breathing. I made a deal with the vampire in the church basement, trading away my love for Jaeren and every tear I had ever shed for him. In seven days, on the night of the full moon, I will open my eyes again in the dark as one of her kind. From then on, I will no longer be trapped by love. And I will never shed another tear for Jaeren.