Douma Crying Novels & Stories

“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.

⚠️ Mature Readers Only ⚠️ This is a bold, no-limits collection of forbidden fantasies and boundary-pushing desires. Expect step-relations, possessive attraction, group dynamics, female/female encounters, dominant personalities, and relationships that cross every line society says should never be crossed. These interconnected stories are unapologetically intense, emotionally charged, and designed for readers who enjoy their fiction dark, daring, and highly provocative. There are no sweet fairy tales here. Only temptation, obsession, and characters willing to risk everything for what they crave. If you're looking for innocent romance, this book may not be for you. If you're looking for something far more daring, welcome inside.

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 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.

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.

One house. Two monsters. And a bet that changed everything. I thought I could survive moving into the mansion with my new stepbrothers, Jackson and Brandon. They are breathtakingly gorgeous, dangerous, and they hate me. But I didn't realize how much I hated them back—until they trapped me in my own bedroom and made my body betray every secret I was keeping. I thought the heat between us was real. I thought the way they looked at me meant I was finally seen. I was wrong. I was just a thousand-dollar wager. A game they played to ruin my mother & kick us back to the gutter where they think we belong. They called me "easy." They called me "mid." They laughed about how I leaked for them while they planned to toss me aside. But they made one fatal mistake: they showed me their weakness.

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.