Hazbin Hotel Universe Harem X Male Reader

I'm a private photographer. Many female college students come to me to get their portraits shot. In return, they choose to offer me their supple bodies. One day, I receive an order to take wedding photos of a couple. However, that night, the bride insists on having me sleep with her… Could it be that her husband can't even afford to pay me for my services?

On the day Clara forced me to sign the divorce papers, I got bound to a self-sabotaging system. The system commanded me to slap her hard and tell her to get lost. I trembled in fear because Clara was a ruthless person. If I dared to stop her from getting back together with the love of her life, she would utterly destroy me. But the system threatened me: "If you don't self-sabotage, you will die soon." Left with no choice, I slapped her. As soon as I hit her, I ran out of the house, terrified. The system then told me to smash a police car on the side of the road. I suspected the system wanted me dead. However, after I smashed the police car's side view mirror, I realized that the system was trying to sabotage someone else's life instead.

I fell in love with my wife the moment I met her, and we eventually got married. She got pregnant not too long after that. Blessed me, but barely a week later, she suffered from excessive bleeding and was taken to the hospital. We lost the baby. The doctor yelled at me because he thought I didn't hold back my urges. That was why we lost the baby. I was flabbergasted. I had never slept with my wife ever since she got pregnant.

„Wie kannst du mir das antun, Conrad? Wie kannst du mit meiner Schwester schlafen, direkt neben meinem Schlafzimmer?“, schrie ich voller Verzweiflung. Meine Stimme war gebrochen. Meine Hände zitterten unkontrolliert. Über mein Gesicht liefen Schweißperlen. „Ashanti, bitte, ich kann das erklären!“, flehte Conrad, während er versuchte, das Bett zu verlassen, was ihm jedoch nicht gelang, da er vollkommen nackt unter der Decke lag. „Ashanti, was in aller Welt machst du in meinem Zimmer?“, kreischte Rhea ebenfalls, und ich wandte mich von Conrad ab und sah sie direkt an. Im Gegensatz zu Conrad zeigte sie keinerlei Angst oder schlechtes Gewissen. „Und was tust du mit meinem Freund in deinem Bett?“, herrschte ich sie ebenso laut an. „Ich habe ihn mir einfach genommen. Was willst du dagegen tun?“ Nachdem Ashanti ihren Freund auf frischer Tat mit ihrer Stiefschwester erwischt hatte, war sie überzeugt, dass es nicht schlimmer werden konnte – bis das Beta der Lykaner aus dem Rudel ihres Vaters erschien und sie gemeinsam mit ihrer Stiefschwester für den Lykaner-Harem auswählte. Dort sollten sie die Gelegenheit erhalten, als Gefährtin für den gnadenlosen Lykanerkönig ausgewählt zu werden. Am selben Tag, an dem sie im Harem ankam, begegnete sie ihrem Gefährten... Lies weiter, um zu erfahren, wer ihr Gefährte ist und wie ihr Schicksal im Harem weitergeht.

Stephanie is gifted with the ability to speak with animals. She sees this gift as a curse, but never did she know that just by the visit of her Uncle Ramsey and Cousin Dorothy would she all the more learn to appreciate this wonderful gift. . .

Here's a piece of advice—do not catch the eye of those pretty salesgirls who sell supplements. You have no idea the things they'll do to close a deal. I become a yummy slice of cake in their eyes; they all want a bite of me. I'm faced with the seduction and allure of countless beauties, but it doesn't make me happy at all.

I got a security job in an upscale neighborhood.  One day, I got a call from a resident.  “I think there’s been a break-in.”  I rushed to the scene. Instead of an intruder, I was greeted by a beautiful woman in barely anything.  She held me and pleaded, “I’m scared. Can you stay with me?”

When news of my arranged fiancee's death arrived, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I quickly reclaimed her shares and had the death certificate issued. I did it because I've been reborn. In my past life, Dad was worried that women would eye my fortune as the heir to the wealthiest family. So, he arranged for me to marry one of three women he personally picked. I chose the most outstanding one, Monica Harris, and married her. However, just three days after our wedding, she died suddenly. Heartbroken, I was persuaded by the remaining two women to give up on marriage and remain single for life. At 80 years old, when I returned to our special place in Sunmere Valley to reminisce, I saw Monica. She should have been dead for 60 years! She stood beside Liam Rogers, my driver who'd gone missing decades ago, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, living a picture-perfect life. I realized I'd been deceived my entire life. The shock sent my blood pressure soaring, and I died of a stroke on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day I died. This time, I'm going to find out exactly how someone who's supposedly dead keeps on living.

All along, I've been following a social media account that's dedicated to a couple sharing about their romance. It doesn't have a lot of followers, but the posts are all very heartwarming. The owner of the account records all the little details about his relationship with his girlfriend. They get into arguments over a plate of pasta before breaking into laughter and calling each other an overgrown child. They climb up the hill to hold each other under the sky full of stars, wishing they could make time pause at that very moment. Even though the owner of the account never reveals his face, I am always moved by the words he writes. The day before my wedding, the owner uploads a new post. "This marks the end of our ten-year relationship. From now on, she'll be his wife, and I'll only be his friend. There won't be any more updates to this account. I wish nothing but the best for my best friend and the woman he loves the most." The picture uploaded with this caption is one of my fiancee and me, taken from behind.

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 35,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm trying to sleep."