Rp Names Male Full Name

When her first love died, my wife jumped from the cruise ship to end her life on our honeymoon. That was when I realized she had never let go of Tyler. Reborn back to our teenage years, she didn’t hesitate to shake off my hand and walk straight toward her first love. I watched them leave together, then turned away. From that moment on, our lives became two parallel lines that would never cross. Ten years later, we meet again at a lavish gala in Rivendell. She was now the rising star of high society, proudly clinging to Tyler’s arm as they made their entrance. When she saw me crash the gala in search of someone, she couldn’t help but advise me. “Why are you still obsessed with me? Even if you’ve waited ten years, I’ll never love you.” I ignored her and pulled my son out of the corner where he had been sneaking cake. Her eyes instantly redden as she grabs my hand in a panic. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Didn’t you say you’d only ever love me in this life?”

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."

Our place was hit by an earthquake. I was crushed by a slab of stone, but my wife, leader of the rescue squad, abandoned me in favor of her true love. She said, "You're a soldier. You can live with a little injury. Felix can't. He's always been weak, and he needs me." I was saved, eventually, and I wanted to leave my wife. I agreed to the chip research that would station me in one of the National Science Foundation's bases deep in the mountains. My leader was elated about my agreeing to this research. He grasped my hand tightly. "Marvelous. With you in our team, Jonathan, this research won't fail! But… you'll be gone for six whole years. Are you sure your partner's fine with it?" I nodded. "She will be. I'm serving the nation here. She'll understand." The leader patted my shoulder. "Good to know. The clock is ticking, so you'll only have one month to say your goodbyes. That enough for you?" I smiled. "More than enough."

Genevieve Cloepfil is a 26-year-old magazine journalist who works for a prominent publishing company run by Conrad Easton, the CEO. When Genevieve's 27th birthday arrived, she found herself at a highly reputable and elite strip club with Feliza, where a certain male stripper captured her interest. She was intoxicated, fueled by alcohol. And she was careless and naughty. Feeling her full energy and neediness. She has fully lost her mind as she reacts to every kiss, touch, and pleasure. She enjoyed an intimate evening with him. He was, unbeknownst to her, her boss.

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.

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.

A business trip took an unexpected turn when our plane ran into disaster. While everyone else was penning their last words, I, an orphan with nothing to lose, decided to have a little fun with my miserly boss. “Boss, let’s keep this short—I like you.” “I really, really like you.” “Boss, this is a final goodbye.” Just when all hope seemed lost, the captain pulled off a miracle with his years of experience, saving us from the brink of catastrophe. By the time we landed safely, I was still in a daze until I saw my boss, eyes bloodshot, storming toward me, flanked by a wall of black-suited bodyguards.

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.

My wife, wanting to spend a romantic birthday date with her first love, added a dose of sleeping medication to the milk bottle of our sick, crying daughter. The medicine took effect, and our daughter drifted into a deep sleep, which allowed them to enjoy a romantic, undisturbed date together. When I came home, I found our daughter still sleeping. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was too late. I called my wife, but she answered with irritation. "Is it because I'm celebrating Shawn's birthday that you must ruin it? I'll go home after the celebration is over." Then, she turned off her phone. Little did she know that, for the sake of one romantic date, she had taken our daughter's life.

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.