Male Reader Lemons

My wife, Ariel Sweeney, would always buy me a new watch every time she cheated on me. We'd been married for four years, and I'd already collected 99 watches. That also meant I'd forgiven her 99 times too. This time, she went on a business trip for three days, and returned with a Patek Philippe watch worth ten million dollars for me. I then knew that it was time we got a divorce.

At the company's celebration dinner, the new HR guy slapped a bill on the table—$860 for A/C and venue costs from our last all-nighter. I shot a look at Sherry—my girlfriend, my boss—thinking she'd have my back. Nope. She latched onto HR's arm and said, "Quentin, this isn't your daddy's company. Quit freeloading." And just like that, nine years of busting my ass for this company, and turns out—I was the discount item on the menu.

Days before Christmas, my girlfriend, Tessa Coleman, decides to take her assistant to the beach for the holiday. I don't argue or make a scene. I even help her pack her bags. But she sneers at me, mocking me for finally learning how to be sensible now that my legs are useless. As soon as she leaves, I reach out to her sworn enemy. In my last life, when I tried to stop her with my crippled legs, her assistant ended up brutally murdered at the beach. Tessa had acted like nothing had happened, but once I recovered, she hacked off my legs and killed me mercilessly. That was when I finally realized that she had hated me all along. This time around, I'll make sure she loses everything.

After I announced my exit from the music industry, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. The only person who voiced his objection was my girlfriend's rumored lover, the up-and-coming songwriter Lucas Zacker. He put on a show of sincerity in front of a crowd of reporters. "It's all a misunderstanding. Matthew is an irreplaceable talent in the music industry. I sincerely hope he returns to the stage." I shut off my phone and turned a blind eye to his public plea. In my past life, one of my songs had been identical to his supposedly original single. As such, netizens accused me of plagiarism, cursing me and wishing death upon my family. Frustrated, I posted the entire creation process online, but it couldn't stand up to the timeline. His new song had been released ten minutes ahead of mine. Just because of the ten-minute difference, netizens sent me photoshopped mourning portraits of myself and even went so far as to come to my house and vandalize it with paint. The relentless cyberbullying went on for years, and it drove me into a deep depression. My parents exhausted their life savings trying to clear my name, only for crazed fans to set our house on fire, causing my parents to burn to death. In the end, when his song won an award, I jumped off a building. But who would have guessed that when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day the new song was set to release.

My wife, Ivy Hart, is about to give birth to the baby she conceived with Toby Clayton, her first love. Her parents hire ten bodyguards to stand guard outside the delivery room. Cora Norris, Ivy's mother, takes Ivy's hand and remarks, "Don't worry, Ivy. We'll make sure he can't get within two feet of you! Your dad is standing guard outside with the bodyguards. If he dares to stop you from having the baby, we'll report him to the police!" Ivy nods, her complexion pale, but she instinctively looks toward the door anyway. She doesn't see why I can't be more understanding of her. All she wants to do is help Toby have a child to carry on his family name. The birth proceeds without me showing up to cause a scene. She smiles gladly when she sees the crying baby in the nurse's arms. She thinks to herself that if I visit her tomorrow, she is willing to forget all about our previous fights. She is even willing to let me be the baby's father. What she doesn't know is that I've already submitted my application to the Alliance of Nations. In seven days, I will be leaving the country to become a field doctor for the Frontline Medical Corp, a humanitarian organization. I won't be coming back ever again.

“ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴍᴇ ʀᴀᴜʟ" ɪ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ʟᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ. Angel's life has been quite a roller coaster ride since she graduated with an exceptional degree from one of the finest schools in her hometown. Securing employment proved to be challenging, and her responsibilities as the primary provider for her small family added to her burdens. She had to support her brother's education as well as cover expenses for her mother's medical condition.She resorts to becoming a stripper out of desperation, ensuring her religious mother remains unaware of her shameful occupation.Her life takes a surprising twist when she is presented with a great chance to become an actress. The main male character, Raul D'Amano, is incredibly attractive and despite being married, the protagonist cannot help but feel drawn to him.✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ ⚠️ Content Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult themes including infidelity, power play, dominance/submission, and emotional manipulation. Reader discretion is advised. Recommended for 18+ audiences only. If you’re sensitive to themes of morally gray relationships or taboo dynamics, please proceed with caution. ▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

My wife, Rochelle Willoughby, went on a business trip for five months. When I picked her up at the airport, she showed up with her true love instead. I noticed her baby bump and was about to ask some questions, but she shoved me away like I was some disgusting piece of trash. "Don't touch me with your grubby hands. I'm pregnant with Samuel's baby. If you hurt it somehow, I'll kill you!" Then, she gently held Samuel Riverson's hand. "You must be exhausted. Let's go home." She left me at the airport without so much as a glance. I saw them off and quietly rubbed the part Rochelle shoved. Then, I contacted my divorce lawyer. Ten years. This marriage finally came to an end.

Rachel Larson was adamant about marrying me, and she spent ten years stealing my heart. On the night before our wedding, I overheard her conversation with her friend. "You're marrying Leonardo? What about your side piece?" A moment of silence later, Rachel answered, "That guy? He's just a cheap replacement. Leonardo's the real deal. Don't compare my side piece to him. If he stays put and keeps his mouth shut, I might let him stay around. Leonardo's a broad-minded man. He won't mind." The side piece did not stay put. In fact, he caused a scene at the wedding the next day. He shoved me off the stage, but the woman who was supposed to marry me darted over to his side instead. Why? He was holding a piece of broken glass against his throat. Gutturally, he roared, "Choose! Me or him?" Panicked, Rachel kicked me away despite my injuries, and she roared, "Get out of the way! I need to take him to the hospital! If anything happens to him, I'll kill you!" She didn't need to wait that long. My heart died right there and then. … That night, I bought a flight ticket that would take me abroad and left her.

In my fifth year of teaching at a rural school in Mount Dalon, Melissa Snow shows up with her first love by her side. "Have you had enough of this miserable life? Go apologize, and after I'm married, I might still support you. Otherwise, stay here and rot as a lonely, broke schoolteacher." People around us begin to whisper, acting like I've been handed my golden ticket out of the impoverished area and should be falling to my knees in gratitude. I simply smile. "Teaching here suits me just fine. Besides, I'm married."

My girlfriend was a police officer. One day, I got kidnapped, and the explosives on my body were ten minutes away from detonating when the kidnappers ordered me to call her. Instead of worry, all I got was relentless scorn and a tongue-lashing. "Caleb, are you seriously doing this right now? How could you be so petty and jealous when a life is on the line?! Lucas' cat is in danger. It has been stuck on a tree for three days, and that cat is as important to him as his own life! "If I don't save them in time, you'll be the one at fault!" Over the line, I heard the voice of a young man that sounded, to my ears, anything but genuine. "Thank you Jamie, you're the best!" That man was my girlfriend's childhood friend, Lucas White. Before the bomb exploded, I sent her a final message. [I hope we never see each other again. Not in this life, and not in the next.]