66 Book(s) Related to harem lemon fanfiction

Kane was the undisputed tyrant of our high school, notoriously ruthless with his words.

I’d always been on the curvier side. When the new, form-fitting cheer uniforms arrived at the locker room, Kane hadn't held back his mocking laugh.

"Are you seriously going to parade around in that?" he had sneered. "Please. You look like a pig about to burst out of its casing. It's embarrassing."

I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I’d mentally broken down over Kane’s acidic remarks. But every time, I forced myself to swallow the humiliation.

Why? Because he was the state's most coveted star quarterback.

Because whenever someone else tried to give me hell, he’d step in with that fiercely impatient, undeniably protective attitude of his. That was my justification.

That was, until the eve of the State Championship.

Daisy, a nobody freshman who had barely scraped her way onto the cheer squad, took the confidential playbook our team had spent three agonizing months perfecting, and handed it straight to our biggest rivals.

Normally, Kane would have sneered and verbally shredded the culprit until there was nothing left of their dignity.

But this time? He just stepped forward, pulled a pack of tissues from the pocket of his expensive letterman jacket, tossed it at Daisy’s feet, and looked away.

"Stop crying," he said, his voice strangely subdued. "The damage is done, and tears won't fix a damn thing. Besides, your face gets all red and swollen when you cry. It's an ugly look."

The night before our mating ceremony, my Alpha boyfriend was tangled up with my brother's fiancée.

He was my brother's ride-or-die companion, and the son-in-law our pack cherished most.

My brother was devastated by this betrayal and charged toward the border that very day, never to return.

Yet everyone kept urging me to forgive them.

His comrade pleaded: "Kael knows he messed up. For the sake of all these years of brotherhood, just give him another chance."

The Elder advised: "I know you're angry, but he's now our pack's Alpha. Making things too bitter won't be good for your future either. Elara, let it go."

Even the usually fair Council Chief was persuading me: "Elara, he's a war hero. It's not easy for a pack to cultivate an Alpha... some things... require considering the bigger picture."

I stopped arguing and simply knelt before my brother's grave for an entire night.

Then I submitted my severance application and moved to new territory with my parents, who had gone white-haired overnight.

Before leaving, Kael blocked my path with reddened eyes: "Elara, do you hate me this much? Won't you even give me a chance to atone?"

I looked at him calmly: "Your sin, like my brother's life, can never be repaid."

After that day, he continued rising through the pack ranks, earning honors, as if nothing had ever happened.

While our family stayed away for three whole years.

I thought I'd never have any connection with Kael again in this lifetime.

Until a recall order brought him back before me once more.

"Elara, long time no see."

I was eight weeks pregnant when I suffered a violent hemorrhage inside the café’s restroom. Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I called my husband fourteen times—only to be labeled a hysterical faker. That same night, he toasted champagne with his young female assistant in his arms without a single shred of guilt.
Three days later, surveillance footage exposed the truth. The woman he cherished had been the one who shoved me down the staircase on purpose.
The night I lost our child, he was out raising his glass in celebration.
Fine. I will make them pay for every single thing they’ve done.

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

When Arthur brought his fallen comrade's widow Elena and her son into our knight's estate, I didn't cry or make a scene.

I simply packed our belongings in silence with my daughter Lilith, moving out of the master bedroom.

"Elena is struggling alone with her child," I said calmly to Arthur. "We'll move to the basement so you can better care for them."

On Lilith's seventh birthday, Arthur gave her a magical glider model. Elena's son Damian cried and demanded it for himself.

Lilith expressionlessly handed over the toy: "Father says little brother has no father now, so you'll be his father. As his big sister, I should let him have it."

Arthur was pleased by our tolerance and generosity, but gradually noticed something—I no longer seemed to love him, and our daughter no longer warmed to him either.

He didn't know that in my past life, he had thrown us out of our home for that mother and son. During the winter blizzard, while Lilith and I starved and froze, he gave all our gold and mana stones to Elena's family, leaving us to die of cold and hunger.

After my rebirth, my daughter and I stopped fighting, stopped competing.

But we would never need Arthur again.

When he wanted to carve out my daughter's Star-magic eyes to save Damian, I finally dropped the pretense and called upon my brother—the Abyssal Duke.

Time for this hypocritical holy knight to practice his "Greater Good" with his own Light Core.

A fire broke out at the fraternity party. I desperately pushed Mia, my brother's girlfriend, out of harm's way, only to get pinned down by a falling beam myself. My brother Liam chose to save Mia first, kicking away my oxygen mask as he left. Mia then locked the door, leaving me to burn alive.

Yet they thought I was throwing a tantrum and playing hide-and-seek. They called me "toxic" and "attention-seeking" on social media, even freezing my credit cards.

The day I won the competition, my sister's heart "failed," and she could never stand again.

From that moment, she claimed all the favoritism.

Looking at my wall of honors, she sat in her wheelchair, heartbroken: "Chloe is so amazing, unlike me—just a burden who could die any moment."

My brother's heart ached for her. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed all my trophies to pieces, defending her honor.

When I was selected as dance troupe captain, tears streamed down her face: "If I hadn't gotten sick, could I have shined on the Lincoln Center stage too?"

My parents turned to scold me for showing off, drugging me before the audition and ruining my chances.

Later, she had a breakdown and went live on Instagram, swallowing pills while sobbing that she didn't deserve love.

My childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, rushed to her side immediately. He dropped to one knee and slipped my diamond engagement ring onto her finger.

Later, I was killed by an armed robber. As I lay dying, I made one last desperate call for help.

He hung up impatiently:

"Mia needs me to hold her hand during her IV treatment. Stop being so fucking unreasonable!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister's heart "failed."

My name is Evelyn. In my third year working at the morgue, I unzipped body bag J-47 and found my sister who had been missing for three days—her chest cavity surgically hollowed out, heart and magic-infused ribs completely gone.

My hands shaking, I checked my phone. A text from my billionaire fiancé Tristan: "Babe, don't forget tomorrow's engagement dinner. Heard about Lily's accident? Already arranged lawyers to handle it."

I almost laughed. For three months, this Ivy League heir kissed my forehead every night, whispering how much he loved me. Yet yesterday, he personally supervised a live heart extraction—to save his dying white moonlight, he strapped my sister to an operating table and carved out her heart while she was fully conscious.

Using my witch bloodline, I accessed Lily's final memories. I saw her desperate eyes, heard Tristan coldly command: "Careful with the goods."

At the fraternity engagement party, Tristan announced a five-million-dollar settlement for the "tragic accident." The lawyer handed me documents—NDAs, death certificates, and a forged organ donation form with my signature.

I looked across the table. The previously dying heiress Chloe was elegantly cutting steak, her cheeks flushed with unnatural health. My sister's heart beat strong in her chest.

"Sign it, Evie," Tristan stroked my hand. "Life must go on."

I tore up every contract.

"You think money buys lives?" I slashed my palm, blood igniting the shredded papers. "Tonight, learn about real equivalent exchange."

Only then did Tristan realize he wasn't marrying some ordinary morgue intern, but the last heir of the First Witch bloodline.

He activated the fraternity's witch-hunting trap—silver chains, exorcism arrays, and my most trusted friend Mark driving a consecrated nail into my back.

But when the ancient seal shattered, when the primordial witch power awakened, I systematically ripped out the hearts of every fraternity brother, letting them experience my sister's final agony.

Facing annihilation, Tristan fell to his knees weeping: "You're the one I've always loved!"

I smiled coldly, opening the crematorium pit beneath the floor: "Want to chase your wife? Here's a real crematorium."

In the Hall of Divine Selection, my younger sister stepped on me and declared that she was the only one worthy of becoming the Dragon Queen. Then she threw Kaelorn at me—a broken, half-blind dragon she had tortured until even his tail was severed—like he was nothing more than a worthless mate for a worthless bride.
In my last life, I was stripped to the bone and imprisoned by the Dragon God, while she lived free and untouched.
But this time, the moment she raised her hand to slap me, I had already made up my mind—
In this life, I'll be the one to drag her into hell.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I am a princess of the deep sea. For love, I abandoned my crown and used ocean magic to help him rise from a penniless sailor to a duke of immense wealth.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, he slapped me in front of all the guests, tore the Ocean Crown from my head to place it on his mistress, and ripped away my reverse scales: "I'm sick of this freakish marriage to a monster!" Blood flowed down the coral cuts, and my unborn child miscarried in the humiliation.

The moment the first reverse scale fell from my chest, I forgot our first kiss. At the same time, his three gold-laden ships mysteriously sank on the windless sea.

The Abyssal Pact has been activated: seven reverse scales correspond to seven memories. With each scale that falls, I forget him a little more, while he loses all the wealth he gained through me.

When I took my last breath in that Harlem tenement, the final image burned into my dying eyes was Noah—my "perfect" fiancé—watching with manufactured anguish as the judge sentenced me for his crimes.

This golden boy manipulator had convinced me to take the fall for his drug charges, destroying my Oxford scholarship and Wall Street future.

Now I'm back, three days before that fatal graduation party.

This time, the gentle control freak can pay for his own stupidity.

I have seventy-two hours to strip away his saint mask and kick him off his pedestal—then climb over his corpse to claim my Wall Street throne.

When my family went bankrupt, my fiancé teamed up with my best friend and sold me to an underground club to pay off their debts.
To secure an investment, that scumbag handed me over to the most powerful kingmaker on Wall Street.
But the moment the call connected, I froze.
The big shot my cheating ex was groveling to was actually my first love—the man I dumped five years ago because he was poor.
Looking at the smug jerk who still had no idea who he was dealing with, I let out a cold laugh.
A deadly revenge game had just begun.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

At the age of twenty seven, Amaya White has been dumped more times than she could remember. She's got a happy family, perfect body, dream job, but a spiteful boss who seemingly always ruins her chances of getting her greatest wish granted.
What's her greatest wish?
That would be to get her cherry popped in the hardest and craziest way ever.
Weird right?
Billionaire Jacques Dickens is one of the most influential young CEO in Australia. He's a man with a poker face, cold personality and hardened heart.
Dating isn't his thing.
Love is thorn on his skin.
Everyday he works his @ss off just to make RORY'S WEARS the best.
The company his late father had left in his care. The company he has to protect from the prying clasps of his toxic stepmother.
Just when he thought he's taking it to the next level, he lost his company and his life and everything became meaningless. However, he was lucky enough to be given another chance. A new life to set things right.
Will he be able to make the best use of his second life?

There can never be more embarrassing than finding a naked guy in the middle of nowhere, but he is asking for help, and Sybil doesn’t have the heart to leave him alone. And so, she takes him home. Ace proves himself to be a decent guy. But what can be worse than two strangers with no memories falling in love and then later finding out the sad truth their memories hide?
Little do they know… the worst is yet to come.
Are they ready for it?
Will their love story lead to a happy ending, or will they choose vengeance instead of love?