Male Reader Lemons Novels & Stories

I'd barely been welcomed back into the inner circle when the fake heir tried to pull me into his little crew. The other rich kids, of course, couldn't resist messing with me. They pushed me to smoke and drink, treating me like some obedient stooge. I was pissed—steam practically coming out of my ears. He, meanwhile, put on this innocent act and said, "Hey, go easy on my brother. He just moved back from the middle of nowhere and doesn't know how things work around here. I'll take this one for him." Everyone ate up his "loyalty," and just like that, my reputation as some clueless hick was sealed. That day, he was set on dragging me to another rich-kid party. I was about to put my foot down when, out of nowhere, the steward from one of the capital's old-money families showed up at our door. He said it was a special order from the lady's father—an extravagant gift. My parents' faces lit up instantly. They clapped the fake heir on the shoulder, practically glowing with pride. "Ryan, you've made us proud! Looks like Sophia's family is more than pleased with you. This engagement—well, it's as good as done!" Ryan straightened his tie with practiced charm, shooting me a smug, taunting look. But when I glanced at the label on the gift box, I couldn't help but laugh. Every new hire at Harrington Group gets the same welcome package. If the Chairman of Harrington Group knew someone was mistaking it for an engagement gift for his daughter, he'd be furious enough to lose sleep.

"Quinn, I accidentally hit someone when I was driving earlier. I think… I think it was your son!" The day after my friend, Owen Jolin, gets his driving license, he insists on driving to the kindergarten to pick up his son by himself. I advise him to spend a few more days practicing his driving skills, seeing as that road is always packed with trucks. But he just rolls his eyes at me. "Don't worry about me. I'm super good at driving, you know!" After that, he stomps on the gas pedal and speeds away in his car. But a short while later, he calls me on the phone, and he sounds extremely frightened. He tells me that he has hit someone outside the kindergarten. He said the child is completely drenched in blood, and he somehow looks like my son, Elliot Shelby. I'm stunned, to say the least. Elliot has come down with a fever today, so he's skipped school for the day. Then… who on earth did Owen kill?

At the beginning of a new year, I stay at the hospital to take care of my mother-in-law on my own. My wife, Yelena Lipton, on the other hand, is on a vacation with her first love, Phillip Warren, in a tropical island overseas. Funnily enough, I'm the last one who finds out about her impending marriage with Phillip. When my mother-in-law hears about the news, her condition deteriorates to the point she gets sent into the treatment room immediately. I have to call Yelena over a dozen times for her to finally pick up the call. "Do you have a death wish or something? Why did you bombard me with calls? I'm in the middle of something right now, so leave me alone!" After that, Yelena ends the call. Since then, I keep failing to get in contact with her. During that time, my mother-in-law has passed away from the treatment failure. When I'm done organizing the funeral, I send Yelena a divorce agreement right away. "Have you gone nuts? It's just an announcement to cheer Phillip up! Are you seriously going to file a divorce from me?" After hearing Yelena's accusations, I reply calmly, "Mom's dead. I've already dealt with everything concerning her passing. You should come back and visit her grave."

I made a deal with Sonia Quindt—the billionaire CEO. After I'd proposed to her ninety-nine freaking times, she swore she'd finally show up for the hundredth. Spoiler: she didn't. She was out there at some concert with her boy toy. And, of course, someone caught them on livestream. Big kiss. Big viral moment. Meanwhile, my face was plastered all over the internet too—lonely guy number one, waiting for a bride who never existed. Everyone online started making bets. Who was the mystery woman? How long until I came crawling back for the hundred-and-first proposal? Sonia, apparently struck by some last-minute guilt, promised she'd make it right next time. Said she'd actually show up. And she did. Wedding dress. Perfect makeup. Cameras ready. She got a text from me: [Sonia, there won't be a hundred-and-first proposal. We're done.]

My family and I have gone on a road trip. But when I help an old lady to her feet after she suffered from a fall in the rest stop, my wife, Cindy Ford, who has been chatting animatedly with me the whole time, scowls at me instantly. "I never knew you were this underhanded! Just the sight of you disgusts me! Get lost!" Even my eight-year-old daughter, Tessa Hayes, glares at me disdainfully. "I don't want someone like you as my dad!" With an ashen face, Cindy whisks Tessa into the car immediately. Just like that, they abandon me at the rest stop. What I don't expect is that my in-laws actually call me on the phone and insult me as a walking jinx after finding out about the incident. Now, they want Cindy to get a divorce with me as soon as possible. Furious, I return to my childhood home and dump all of my emotional load on my parents. But my parents, who have always doted on me, don't console me at all after they find out I've helped an old lady up. Instead, their expressions go stormy. "How on earth did we end up having a son like you? You should just die already!" My parents kick me out of the house right away. Dazed and disoriented, I end up getting struck and killed by an incoming truck. Even as I breathe my last, I never understand what I've done wrong. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I help the old lady up to her feet.

The day after my mom used 880 grand from selling our family restaurant to buy a house for my cousin, my girlfriend of five years dumped me. "Evan," Ruby Lawrence said while she sat across from me. "Let's break up." My hands trembled. "Why?" "I waited for you for five years." Her eyes welled with tears. "You said once the restaurant was sold, we'd have the down payment for a house in Seahaven. Where is it now? Where's the money?" I tried to explain, but she cut me off. "In your parents' eyes, you're not even as important as your cousin. So tell me, who's really their son? I'm 28, Evan. I can't keep waiting." She grabbed her bag and walked away without looking back. My phone buzzed. My mom sent me a photo of her and my cousin at his new house. That was followed with a voice note. She sounded joyful. "Your cousin finally achieved his biggest life goal. We can relax now." I stared at his smug smile in the photo. I laughed until tears ran down my face. I exited the 'Clark Family Forever' group chat and blocked every single relative. 'Since you all choose him, then from this moment on, your reputation or loyalty will have nothing to do with me. I only wonder if you'll think of the son you abandoned when that precious nephew of yours, who you poured all your resources into, throws you out of your own home.'

I was slowly dying from Silverthorn Wolfsbane, and there was only one cure—the Miracle Elixir. But my mate, Leah Ashford, bought it and gave it to my adoptive brother,Jason Smith. She did it because she thought I was faking my illness. I gave up on the treatment and swallowed a potent painkiller instead. It would kill me in three days by shutting down my organs. In those three days, I gave up everything. I handed over the fur manufacturing business I built from the ground up to Jason, and my parents praised me for caring about my brother. I offered to sever our mate bond, and Leah praised me for finally being sensible. When I told my son he could call Jason "dad", he happily said that his new dad was the best! I transferred all my savings to Jason, and no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They were just pleased with my "better behavior". "Victor is finally not so bad." I wondered—would they regret it after I was gone?

Outside the police tape surrounding a fancy hotel, a police officer can be seen blocking my way. "There seems to be a bomb hidden in the hotel! Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to get any closer!" I'm just about to dig out my work badge when the intern next to me, Christine Wyatt, covers her mouth in a pretentiously shocked manner. "Officer, there's a detonator and a timer in his bag! Those things look so scary!" The entire scene goes eerily silent. Almost immediately, I see a few guns getting aimed at my forehead. Anxiety begins overwhelming me. "I'm a bomb disposal expert from the Headquarters Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit! My bag contains all the tools necessary to dispose of a bomb!" "Throw your bag over to me and keep your hands where I can see them!" Captain Scott Hunter roars at me. My bag is opened afterward. Things like an insulated cutter, a bomb suppression blanket, and a liquid nitrogen cooling tank are scattered across the ground. Before I can explain myself, Christine suddenly points at me while screaming, "Why are you still playing dumb? You just told me that you wanted to set off an explosion in that hotel! "What, now that the police are here, you dare not admit what you just said, huh? You're a terrorist through and through!" Scott reacts quickly by pinning me on the hood of the police cruiser with my hands folded behind my back. "We're taking you back for a thorough interrogation!" My heart almost stops at those words. The bomb that's packed with enough firepower to take out half a street has already gone on a countdown in the hotel lobby. But I, the only bomb disposal expert who can get rid of the bomb, have handcuffs put on me because of Christine's nonsensical accusations. Right now, there are only 29 minutes left before the bomb goes off.

My wife has an emotional breakdown after being violated. She insists I'm the one who orchestrated it, but both our parents know her true love is the actual culprit. Still, they don't object to her insane retaliation. They even have me locked up in a prison abroad. As I'm tormented, she sells my company to help her true love get away scot-free. Ultimately, he's set free, but I die without even having a final resting place. When a judge informs her to collect my body, she sneers and says, "I've had enough of this nonsense. Does he think he can get away with a fake corpse? I won't even bat an eye if his body is flushed down the drain! He's nothing but a disgusting criminal!" Later, she realizes that I've truly died. She's delighted, but her laughter soon turns to tears as she holds my corpse.

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night. Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police. Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox. "My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited." When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week. "All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives." My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room. With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?" I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."