Tighty Whities Story

I was dumped because of my weight. My stepmother tried to comfort me, saying, "It's okay, it's okay. A little extra weight is good." I watched as my graceful sister took my place and married my fiancé. Meanwhile, I was sent abroad to be "fattened up like a pig." I barely escaped with my life and endured unimaginable hardships. Now, those who hurt me should, at the very least, face justice for their actions.

On the day of Zephyr’s art exhibition, I saw people stand around a portrait of myself. My cheeks were flushed, and I was bare. My posture was the one we used in bed last week for fun. Zephyr even got the mole on my chest right. As people stared at me mockingly, I demanded, “Why did you do this to me?” He was unbothered. “It’s not as if I asked you to sleep with someone else.” But he did let people see how I looked when I was having an intimate moment with my own boyfriend! “It’s just a painting. Why are you being so petty?” I was stunned by the mockery in Zephyr’s gaze. Then, I called my assistant. “I’m attending the international art festival as the organizer.”

"My Alpha, if your Luna knew that the embryo transplanted into her womb was actually our fertilized egg, she was just our surrogate, she'd probably be so furious to kill herself, right?" Elora gasped. My mate, Damon, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, was kneading Elora's breasts. "I don't like her either. But if she dies, who's going to manage my pack? You little minx," Damon chuckled, pulling her from the front and ruthlessly pounded into her from behind. "So, we have to keep this a secret. When our child is born and inherits my Alpha position, we'll deliver the final blow to her." I pretended not to know. I gave birth to the child and raised him with great care. Twenty-two years later, after my son Torin completed his studies, we handed over the Alpha position and all my wealth to him. At the succession ceremony, in front of the elders, nobles, and alliance leaders, Elora walked in arm-in-arm with my mate, holding a DNA paternity test report up to me. "Torin is the biological son of Damon and me. Now, it's time to return him to me." My son pulled out a small vial, said to me mercilessly, "This is a potion I got from a witch. Drink it now, break the mate bond with my father, and get as far away as possible." I smiled slightly, "Alright."

My fiancée steals my designs to help her senior win a competition. She's not ashamed in the slightest when I confront her. "You're talented, so you can come up with a new design in an instant. This competition means a lot to Avery, so stop being so petty." I drop out of the competition and head home to inherit the family fortune. That's when my fiancée panics. "Don't be so unreasonable, Yarrow. Design is your life's dream and the only thing you want to do. How can you give up on it so easily?" Her senior panics, too. "This design is the product of your blood, sweat, and tears. Can you bear to give up on it at this juncture?" I hang up, unmoved by their words. My fiancée doesn't know that her family's company is the one handling the blueprints for my design. I can't wait to see how her senior is going to handle the situation without my help.

During a mission overseas, I shielded my younger brother from an explosion—only to wake up months later, my body broken, my mind trapped in the void of a coma. Grateful for my sacrifice, he repaid me by marrying my wife. When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness and rushed home, I found my son kneeling on the ground, sobbing as his college acceptance letter lay shredded in his fists. My nephew loomed over him, slamming a steel pipe into his back. "Lick my shoes clean," he sneered. "Who are you to think you deserve an education?" And there was my wife clapping in delight, dabbing the sweat from my nephew’s brow like a doting servant. "You’re just like your deadbeat father," My wife spat. "Born to be my stepping stone." My eyes bloodshot, I tightened my fists. Every last one of them would pay for this dearly.

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

On a rainy day, I gave my pregnant neighbor a ride home since it was on my way. As a result, she became clingy and started insisting I drive her home every day. When I refused, she teared up and accused me of lacking compassion. Her husband even showed up at my door, demanding, "Why won't you take my wife to and from work? Are you looking down on us?" In the end, I sold my car and moved to a new place. If I couldn’t afford to offend them, at least I could avoid them!

In my previous life, I was eight months pregnant when my mother-in-law and husband forcibly dragged me to grab decorative gift boxes from the Christmas tree. I told them there was nothing inside, but my mother-in-law slapped me across the face while my husband pulled me into the crowd. A stampede broke out. They clutched their gift boxes and fled to save themselves, while my child and I were trampled to death. They eagerly tore open all the gift boxes with high hopes, only to find exactly nothing, just like I'd warned them. But as I lay dying, I noticed something in the final gift box. A Black Widow spider with an hourglass pattern on its belly crawled onto my mother-in-law's hand. This spider carries deadly venom. Anyone bitten either dies or suffers permanent disability. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on Christmas Day. This time, watching my mother-in-law and husband gear up to fight over those Christmas gift boxes, I won't try to stop them!

My college dormmate, who spread nasty rumors about me, sends me an e-invitation. "I'm marrying the richest man in the country and will soon be a trophy wife—I'll be leagues above you. Seeing as we were once dormmates, I'll begrudgingly allow you to be my bridesmaid. Don't miss this chance!" I frown. What is wrong with Jasmine Teach? I'm the country's richest person. When did a man overtake me? I want to block her number and delete the conversation, but I check the e-invitation to be sure. I'm stunned when I see the photo of her husband-to-be. Isn't that Harold Jackson, my husband? He's supposed to be on a business trip. My lips curve in a cold smile, and I type a response while gnashing my teeth. "I'd be honored to be your bridesmaid. I'll prepare a huge surprise for you, too."

Oh ... Yes ... Like that ... You are the best ... They were at it again. Ever since that young man had moved in next door, these sounds had frequently invaded my room. It wasn't just that they were so loud, it was that once they began, they were sure to keep me up for half the night. I hammered on the wall, hoping they would quieten down. If anything, the noises only got louder. I could feel myself getting angry. I was on the warpath. I stormed outside and hammered on his door. But I was not prepared for what I saw once it opened. I shouldn't be privy to this, I thought. After witnessing this, how can I be allowed to live?