Harem Streamer System Novels & Stories

Revenge. Sweeter than a kiss laced with honey. Hotter than the deepest depths of hell. And, it hits harder than a f*cking train… I want all of it. I need it more than the air filtering through my lungs. And the constant, unsteady but racy beat of my heart when I’m around them. Darius. Jace. Hunter. It took them five minutes to destroy my life. Faster than it took the eighteen years of my existence for my father–the alpha of the Black Syndicate–to ruin me. I was neglected. Abandoned. Rejected. Pushed around and outcasted by my pack. Now I have to prove myself so my father’s gang won’t kill me. All because of them and by the hands of my father. Want to know the worst part? They are working together. What they don’t know is, once I get released from the juvenile detention center for werewolves I was sent to because of them–I will tear them to shreds. One by one. I, Elise Cartwright, will get my revenge. NOTE: This is an enemies to lovers dark/mafia/werewolf romance where the girl will end up with multiple love interests. (Reverse Harem)

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé, Steven Cooper, suddenly appeared before me with his arms around his first love, Molly Hart. “I love you, and I love Molly too. I’ll still give you the wedding you’ve always wanted, but Molly is the one I’m going to marry.” A sharp pain struck my heart. Just as tears were about to fall, I heard Molly’s thoughts. “What a joke. He keeps offering things that don’t even matter. If he loves me so much, why doesn’t he give me money or buy me a house? “If the system weren’t forcing me to collect affection points from scumbag men, I wouldn’t bother standing here acting out this villainess role with him. “And seriously, with a demand this outrageous, she’s not actually going to agree to it just because she’s head over heels for him, is she? “Even if this is only a pre-wedding test, once she gives in, he'll keep trampling over her boundaries. In the end, she'll be destroyed emotionally and physically, and both she and her baby will lose their lives.” My eyes widened in shock, and the tears instantly disappeared. Maybe I was a little lovestruck, but I definitely didn’t want to die.

On my way to work, I came across a livestream from an influencer who posted about her relationship, tagged at my company’s location. She was talking about her office romance with the CEO of a major corporation. But wasn’t the CEO of her company my husband? I clicked on her profile and saw that it was full of wedding-prep posts. The man never showed his face, but his build looked almost exactly like my husband’s. So I left a comment in the livestream: “I heard the CEO of Gibson Corporation has been married for a long time. So what does that make you...?” The streamer muted me, then instantly burst into tears. “The internet isn’t lawless. If you keep spreading rumors and calling me a mistress, I’m calling the police.” Her fans immediately swarmed me. “You’re probably the other woman yourself. That’s why your mind went there.” “I checked her profile. She’s some woman in her thirties. She’s obviously jealous because the streamer is young, pretty, and has a rich, powerful boyfriend who dotes on her.” “The account’s brand new. She’s obviously just a troll.” I tried to say more, only to realize I had already been kicked out of the livestream, and my account had been reported until I couldn’t even log back in. I stared at the proof of our marriage in the drawer for a long moment. Then I raised my hand and smacked my sleeping husband awake. “Exactly how many wives are you planning to have?”

Nathan Carter was famous in high society for being completely devoted to his wife. All because I had an almost obsessive need to control him. Not only did he have to video call me every five minutes to check in, but every morning when I woke up, I expected a five-thousand-word love letter waiting for me. The first time he was a minute late checking in, my paranoia spiraled out of control, and I bombarded him with ninety-nine voice messages, threatening to kill myself. He transferred me one million dollars, dropped to his knees, and swore it would never happen again before I reluctantly forgave him. His voice softened as he leaned closer, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, a flood of comments exploded across my vision. [Exactly! Once Quinn catches HIV, he should dump her. A villainess like her deserves to get sick, lose the baby, and die a miserable death!] [Who could put up with a crazy woman like her? If she hadn't pushed the male lead so hard, he never would've slept around and contracted HIV!] [When is the female lead finally going to show up? I can't wait for her and the male lead to heal each other and get their happily ever after!] I looked at Nathan, who had already taken off his shirt, his breathing heavy. I hurriedly grabbed a towel from the side and wrapped it around myself. "Honey, I'm suddenly not feeling very well. Don't you have a meeting to get to? You should go. I don't want to keep you from work."

Bima is just an introverted, scrawny kid used to living behind a gaming screen and being a constant target for body shaming. But his life takes a drastic turn when he wakes up in a ruined city crawling with zombies. In the midst of the chaos, something even stranger than the apocalypse emerges: the "Single Survival System," which hits him with absurd missions likes maintaining an ideal BMI, getting revenge on his bullies, and landing his first kiss. Every mission isn't just a ridiculous challenge; it’s a matter of life and death. Forced out of his comfort zone, Bima must face his dark past. He crosses paths with Donny, his former bully who is now a zombie, and Kevin, an ex-gym influencer who has transformed into a fanatical cult leader obsessed with the perfect physique and extreme protein intake. Amidst the chaos, Bima meets Lia, a tough convenience store clerk who harbors a deep-seated trauma toward food. Together, they survive nonsensical threats, ranging from zombie food vloggers obsessed with livestreaming death to grotesque mutants lurking underground. But the madness is only the beginning. Bima’s reckless actions catch the attention of a far more dangerous entity: the Master AI Fitness Freak, an artificial intelligence that views humans as inefficient unless they meet extreme nutritional standards. With the help of Riska, an AI with cold, business-like logic that shares a secret connection to Bima’s past, the battle shifts into a clash of ideologies: perfection versus happiness. In a world that worships muscles, protein, and ruthless efficiency, Bima fights back in an unexpected way, using Indomie as a symbol of balance, hope, and humanity.

I have the potential to win the championship of the math competition, and yet I hand in a blank answer sheet during the exam. In my previous lifetime, I was known as the math prodigy. But no matter which competition I participated in, my boyfriend's childhood friend, Alyssa Ford, would always score an extra 20 marks more than my score. I refused to believe that Alyssa could best me all the time, so I performed extraordinarily well in the math competition. Just as I thought I'd come out as the champion, Alyssa still scored 20 marks more than my current score. Thanks to her outstanding results, she stole the title that was supposed to be mine. Since I couldn't become the champion, I lost the prize money the school had promised to give me. Naturally, I broke down emotionally because I planned on using the money on my parents' life-saving surgery for their cancer. My parents ended up dying in the end. Unable to handle the blow, I took my life shortly afterward. Even when I breathed my last, I could never figure out why Alyssa could score 20 marks more than my scores no matter how hard I tried. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the math competition is to take place.

For as long as I could remember, a family scorecard hung by our front door like a corporate dashboard. At the end of the semester, my older sister Ava ranked first in her class, and Dad stuck a bright gold star beside her name. I had studied until my eyes burned, but my score still came in exactly three points lower than hers. Dad shook his head in disappointment and drew a huge red mark beside my name. "Mia, do you know how much money you cost this family this month?" He tapped at his calculator and said in a cold, businesslike tone, "Tutoring, supplements, private coaching. Five thousand dollars altogether. Terrible return on investment." "Starting next month, your allowance is in the negative by two thousand. You can work it off by taking over every chore in this house." Ava's eyes curved into a smile. "Mia, according to the performance rules, starting today you have to handle my laundry for a whole year." I clenched my fists, but all I could do was nod. That night, I hid in the bathroom and searched how to raise grades fast. A strange forum link flashed onto my screen. "Do you want to make a trade?" "Give up what is yours. Receive what you desire." "Tap to begin."

For five years, I pursued the heir of the throne, Christof. One day, a large chunk of text floated in the sky. [Sweetheart, stop being so stubborn. That useless prince isn’t worth it.] [Just look at Prince Harald. He’s had a crush on you for the longest time!] I turned to look at the unruly Harald. He stiffened as his face turned dark. “Why are you staring at me? Go find your precious Christof.” [You fool. You’ve been hugging your pillow at night while saying her name.] [This is how you lose a wife.] [Mr. Ladies’ Man, you’ve fallen speechless around Louisa this whole time, haven’t you?!] I cautiously handed him the elderflower wine I had brewed myself. He snatched it from me and said, “Oh, so you noticed I’m thirsty? Good. You’re not completely useless.”

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.