Good Evening, Mr President! - Chapter 1877 - : Clinging to her bed

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

Eshwar is the name of the author who transmigrated into his own novel after his death. Eshwar’s death was caused by his own magic which he had yet to control. Why? because I didn't think I would seriously die!!!!

Anyway.... my novel's protagonist is a selfish person. why you ask? because I wrote him and I wanted him to be like me. Muhahahaha, ha.

I reincarnated into my novel!

and that to as a villain who dies in the first half, will I stand still and die?

Of course not, I may have reincarnated as a villain but its not like I will live like he did.

I'll live my life as I want! and kill all the other villains.

Why? because I love the world I created, hahaha, ha.... (real reason: I love to fight.), who else will get the chance to look at the world they have created?

System I created is messed up for some reason and is doing everything on its own!!???

we'll see how it turns out with everything messed up, well(sigh...)

Oh, but because i have reincarnated as a villain, I got a new problem and that is,

I'm handsome (sparkles), I have to say, handsome people have their own problems.

Orodan was an orphaned street rat who clawed his way to the county militia with hard work. However calamitous events unfold and draw him into events bigger than himself and Orodan's battle-loving disposition leads to a warrior's death for him. Only for him to wake up again on the day of.In a world of skills, titles and blessings; a smart time looper would perhaps scheme, plan, amass equipment and allies. But not Orodan. If there's one thing he's good at it's stubbornly trying the same thing over and over again via brute force till it's done.If a wall is in front, going around is not an option. Instead batter it with your head thousands of times till either the wall breaks or you do. And gain skill levels along the way

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?