DxD: Building A Demon Clan From Scratch. - Chapter 22: I Am Yours

Once Jiang Hongping was reborn, she immediately gave up her marriage with Qi Heng to her cousin Jiang Shuangling. She married Qi Heng in her last life, but she was driven back within a few days. The second marriage could only be to marry a poor and lame man. To be a stepmother.
The other party’s oil bottle son is the devil! ! !
Jiang Shuangling travels back to the 1970s, what? Let her marry, after weighing the pros and cons, it is better to marry than to stay under the uncle’s house and marry with a younger brother.
Seeing each other for the first time, Jiang Shuangling was shocked.
A handsome young man of twenty-three.
Just to this face, this figure, she can!
Isn’t it just to be a stepmother, go up! ! !
The first meeting of the reorganized family:
Jiang Shuangling, a 29-year-old urban white-collar worker, glanced at the faces of her cheap brother, cheap son, and cheap husband, thinking:
All here are my brothers.
The cheap brother took her hand cautiously and called her affectionately: Sister
The cheap son opened his mouth and hesitated.
Jiang Shuangling said calmly: You can also call me Ajie.
The man next to him darkened: he called you sister, what did you call me? dad?
Jiang Shuangling spread her hands: It’s not impossible.

This article is the heroine who can make her life very cool anytime and anywhere, and the warm little sweet text of daily chicken flying and dog jumping.
Jiang Shuangling x Qi Heng (heng)

Content tags: Travel through time and space Farming text Sweet text Chronological text
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Shuangling ┃ Supporting role: Qi Heng ┃ Others: Chronicle
One-sentence introduction: Everyone here is my younger brother.
Purpose: to manage the trivial things in the daily family well, and to live optimistically and positively in the era of struggle.

- Description from novelbuddy

In the past when someone mentioned getting married, Du Lei Si (Durex) would feel fearful enough to flee.

What is so good about getting married? Organizing a wedding ceremony is akin to spending money like running water. After giving birth, you must also raise the child. If you don’t maintain yourself well, you will get out of shape.

As a result, maybe a vixen will grab your husband and take your baby away.

Not getting married! Definitely not getting married!

However, fate is like this. Whatever you are afraid of, unfortunately, it will be given to you.

I was walking on the street, minding my own business, yet, impossibly, I encountered a stranger proposing marriage. He placed a dazzling diamond ring right in front of me. This handsome guy knelt down on one leg and looked at me with such a sincere expression: “Miss, would you please marry me?”

This, isn’t this like some drama?

After pondering over it, I decided that this surely must be a stunt from some television station’s new program. Invite a celebrity to pretend to be a passer-by who proposes marriage. This year, with the economic crisis, being a producer is not easy.

Thus, out of kindness, I accepted the diamond ring. Only to find out that all of this was actually real! The diamond ring is really and truly a genuine diamond from South Africa. Moreover, the groom is also a genuine rich man!

Actually, wasn’t this just like the legend of marrying into a rich and powerful family? I always feel that in front there is the belly black President who is like a ruthless wolf watching me attentively, and if I am not careful, he will tear me apart and swallow me into his belly. Whereas behind there is the crowd who do not know the truth, standing in a circle and watching as the drama unfolds. I still have not explained clearly but Mrs. President’s fame has already spread quickly from mouth to mouth.

This time, Du Lei Si really feels regret.

Who can tell me, can I not marry ah?

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

A fluffy, sweet modern GL story about a mature older women and a cute university student.