Male Protagonist

On the day of the wedding, my fiancee, Bianca Newton, approached me with a bright smile, handing me a glass of wine. I drank it down in one gulp. Suddenly, her male best friend, Xander Lynch, raised his phone and burst out laughing. "See! I told you this idiot wouldn't even notice that it was my piss! Pay up, everyone! Don't forget to follow my account! Pay up!" I started puking uncontrollably, but Bianca merely looked at me with disgust. I demanded that Xander apologize, yet Bianca placed herself in front of him and stopped me. "It was just a joke! Why are you taking it so seriously?" At the same time, Xander said smugly, "Come on, say hello to the views in my livestream! Tell them how it feels to drink piss!" I smashed a wine bottle right on his head. Bianca demanded that I kneel and apologize to him. Then, she hurriedly escorted Xander to the hospital, still in her wedding gown. Looking at the wedding venue in utter chaos, I calmly took my phone out and dialed a number. "Are you interested in marrying me?"

My mom gets buzzed at the family dinner and insists on burning my admission letter. She says, "You're a guy, and yet you can't get into Horvard University! What makes you think you can study at any university now? You might as well quit studying altogether!" I try to stop her from doing so, only for my dad to stop me instead. "It's just a stupid scrap of paper. Don't put a damper on your mom's mood, now. Can't you just retake the college admission exam?" Just like that, my fruit of labor gets burned to ashes. When I'm studying for the exam again, Mom keeps inviting people home for drinks. All I do is utter one complaint, and I get beaten to death by her drinking buddies. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the family dinner. This time, I've swapped out my admission letter to the IOU her boss has told her to safeguard. Go ahead and burn it. Two years later, I'll be sure to visit you at your grave, Mom.

While studying abroad, I move into a shared apartment. Not a single day goes by without my housemate, Stuart Harper, calling himself some variation of a sweet, brave, and responsible guy. On the very first day he moves in, he hires workers to take out the insulation from the walls. I confront him about it, but he simply grins at me and proudly boasts about his decision. "That was all just some shoddy foam that the construction workers padded the walls with. Not only was it useless, but it was even taking up so much space. The fact that I forked out my own money to get rid of it proves that I'm such a sweet and responsible guy!" With a scowl on my face, I explain to Stuart the purpose of having proper insulation. He immediately leans in close with an admiring gaze. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea! I just wanted to do something nice for us. What should I do now? You have to help me think of something!" I naively assume Stuart just lacks common sense and doesn't act with malice. Thus, I willingly enter into a cycle of always cleaning up after his messes. One day, I get a fever. He ends up buying a secondhand electric slow cooker and declares he's going to take care of me by cooking me soup. My head throbs as I quickly put a stop to his attempt to heat the electric slow cooker on the induction stove. I tell him to let me catch a nap before I teach him how to cook later. But not long after I fall asleep, he secretly sticks the electric slow cooker into the microwave to heat it up. The microwave explodes. As the flames start to spread, Stuart screams and dashes out of the apartment at once. The fire alarm wakes me up. I try to evacuate the burning building, only to find that Stuart has locked the door from the outside. In the end, the fire burns me to a crisp. After that, however, he starts twisting things around. He goes online and says with a helpless expression, "My housemate set the apartment on fire while cooking. I'm the one who had to call the fire department on his behalf, and I even had to compensate the landlord for him. I'm definitely the sweetest, bravest, and most responsible guy to ever live!" As the online community proceeds to condemn me, Stuart uses the attention and publicity to go viral as a content creator. Some time later, my eyes open again. This time, I'm going to roast him good.

"Mmm… With my husband away, his little brother comes to play with me… You two are really… ahhh…" After my brother finished and left the room, my sister-in-law lay on the bed, fast asleep and completely defenseless. I could not hold back anymore. I reached out and touched her. To my surprise, she woke up from my touch… yet instead of pushing me away, she pulled me into her arms, willingly letting me leave my marks all over her soft body. Lost in the heat of the moment, I looked up–and saw my brother’s figure standing right there.

"Logan, you can be a little rougher with me…" Late in the middle of the night, the naked woman kneeling on all fours on the bed turned back to look at me. She kept inching her voluptuous hips toward me, yearning for more. Her moist, rosy lips were half-open, and her misty, lust-filled gaze was fully capable of making any man melt. Just a day ago, I never would have imagined—not even in my wildest fantasies—that I would be conquering my curvaceous and alluring mother-in-law.

The story is portrayed on the landscape of traditional India where family has another value in every individual's life but what happens when that family loathes you to utmost level? Join the journey of both the protagonists where we can get the very image of family but in different aspects. Swara, the female protagonist is from a nuclear family in which she lives with her mother and a younger brother. That family means whole world for her. Other hand Sanskar, the male protagonist - he has everything! Everything means health, wealth and a big family as the cherry on its top. He has a widow mother and three younger siblings as name of family with a huge number of maids. But still he is alone in this whole world. So join this unique journey to know how two different people from different world unite with each other in this big universe and become each other's heartbeat!

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

In my previous life, I saved a fallen dragon prince on the day my sister and I were to choose our mates. In gratitude, he took me back to his clan and made me his concubine. A year later, I birthed a golden egg, producing a dragon heir. Overjoyed, the prince crowned me Dragon Queen on his Ascension Day, revered by all clans. Meanwhile, my sister wed a burly beastman, only to become his least favored concubine. Consumed with jealousy, she pushed me off a cliff during a ritual, ending my life. When I opened my eyes again, I saw my sister rushing toward the prince's hiding place, her intentions clear from our past life. I realized she had been reborn, too. But she didn't know that while saving the prince was simple, bearing his heir was a trial beyond measure.

On a stormy night during the apocalypse, my own mother threw me out of the house while I was burning with fever, along with my husky, so my little brother would have a better chance of surviving. She shouted through the crack in the door, “Take that useless mutt and go die somewhere. Stop wasting your brother’s food!” I huddled in a pile of trash with my dog in my arms, convinced I was going to die. Then my husky suddenly spoke. “Host’s vital signs critically low. Infinite Supply Search System activated.” “Supermarket warehouse one hundred meters ahead. Three thousand freeze-dried meals detected.” “Pharmacy five hundred meters to the left. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected.” Three days later, I’d built a fortress with packs of dogs and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating steak and watching the show. Outside the barbed wire, my mother and brother were on their knees, fighting each other over half a piece of moldy bread. I smiled. “Mom, even dogs wouldn’t eat that. Better savor it.”

The night I confessed my love to my girlfriend, she wept so hard she could barely breathe. She said she had seen the future, and she wanted to make a promise with me. I asked her why. She only shook her head and said, "I don't remember… all I know is that in the future I regret something terribly. Frank, no matter what happens, you must give me three chances. Will you?" I was deeply in love with Agnes Grey, so I agreed without hesitation. But later, it was as if she had forgotten all about that night—forgotten it when she clung so intimately to her male assistant. Only then did I understand why she'd made me promise that all those years ago. Because the moment I signed my name on the divorce papers, I heard a familiar voice. It was Agnes at nineteen. Through her sobs, she pleaded, "Frank… you promised me, didn't you? You said you'd give me three chances."