Comedy Short Stories & Novels

After losing a round of truth or dare, Ezra Everton pointed at me from across the room like it was nothing. "Her. The brokest girl at the whole art institute. For fun." The room exploded with laughter. Everyone waited for me to get dumped on the spot and humiliated. I was already about to tell him to go screw himself when bright red floating comments suddenly blew up in front of me— [Don't say no! Say yes! That's a walking jackpot!] [Make his heart race for one second and you'll unlock a $100,000 payout!] [I'm screaming. Ezra's family is crazy rich. One tiny leak from his wallet could build a whole new wing for Evervale Home!] [For real. He acts arrogant, but he's secretly such a softie. Win him over, and you're basically set for life!] Evervale Home. The orphanage. A hundred grand? My eyes widened. I looked at Ezra's ridiculously handsome—seriously punchable—face and swallowed the "go to hell" sitting on my tongue. Then I met his amused stare and smiled sweetly, hiding the edge in my eyes. I stepped up and hooked my arm through his. "Sure, babe."

Five years into my quest to conquer the male lead, Patrick Suede forgot my birthday once again. Instead, the villainess texted me, “So what if it’s your birthday? He came crawling to me at the snap of my fingers. For once, I didn’t take the System’s suggestion to break down. I replied, “Thank you. You’re the only one who remembered my birthday today.” The response back was a big question mark. My phone kept going off with notifications. “Seriously. Were you meant to send that to someone else? “Are you for real? That’s kind of sad. “What do you want for your birthday? “Forget it. I’m coming over. Since you can’t eat mangoes, I’ll get you a strawberry cake. “Honestly, you’re a handful.” … When my doorbell rang, I grinned at the System. “The mission is to romance the main character of this world. You never said it had to be a guy.”

My cold-blooded Mafia boss, Don Cassius, tore my painting to shreds. Right in front of everyone. I needed to vent. I texted a picture of my legs in fishnets to my dark web sugar daddy. [Wanna be stepped on by your Mistress? Stroke it for me. Now.] I looked up. Cassius—usually an untouchable iceberg in a bespoke suit—swallowed hard. His ears flushed a dark red. Curious, I sneaked a peek at his phone. My photo. My filthy command. Both flashing on his screen. Holy shit. Ice shot through my veins. My stupid fucking thumb slipped... and hit the video call button.

I married my Don husband, Ethan Solas, because of a family arrangement. What he didn’t know was that I’d harbored a long crush on him. He, on the other hand, had never sparked any interest in me. Today marked our third anniversary. After our usual, mechanical lovemaking, Ethan rolled onto his back, leaving me staring at the ceiling. He always treated it like a duty, nothing more. Then a sudden, intrusive voice pierced my mind: “Did Vivian reach her climax? Did I do well? Is it too soon for a second round? Am I desperate? She smells so good…I just want to devour her.” I froze, eyes turned and locked on Ethan’s bare back. Had I imagined it? Or had my icy, distant husband just confessed his wild, obsessive desire for me?

My serpent husband lost his memory and insisted on a divorce. He couldn't believe that someone of his status, the rarest purebred serpent alive, would ever marry a human. "Ms. Cassandra, I'm sorry, but I'd appreciate your cooperation in having the mate mark removed." "The billion is compensation. No need to return it." Hearing that, I actually felt relieved. I mean, sure, my husband was gorgeous and filthy rich… But he had two dicks! And each one was so huge. It was just too much. After the divorce, if I ever look for another husband... I would definitely find someone a bit gentler, the kind where just one is plenty!

Right after I got pregnant by accident, all three of my friends-with-benefits coworkers dumped me. "You're just a girl from an ordinary family. My parents would never accept you. Stop clinging to me." "Babe, my first love is back in the country. I can't keep playing this game with you anymore. It's over." "Take your dirty money and get the hell out of my life!" I didn't tell any of them. I slipped away to Europe and had the baby in secret. But the moment I disappeared, all three of them lost it: [You heartless woman.] [Anna, pulling the vanishing act again? Playing hard to get much?] [Baby, forget about her. I don't want my childhood sweetheart anymore. Just come back, please?]

Three years married, yet my husband and I had never once held hands. With a grudge I'd been quietly nursing, I took a photo of myself in sexy lingerie with my back to the camera and sent it to him from a throwaway account. I expected it to go nowhere. Two minutes later, my phone buzzed. [Your family member has purchased a same-day return flight.] [She's just keeping you around for fun. Don't let me catch you, you horndog.]

My ex-colleague, Brenda Wilson, finds out from an unknown source that I have taken in an adopted son. Because of that, she insists on matchmaking my son with her niece. "My niece has graduated from a proper college, you know! You don't have to prepare any fancy wedding gifts… Just 800 thousand dollars will do! On top of that, you can put her name on the deed of that fancy deluxe apartment in the city center. "From the way I see it, there's no need to choose the perfect date anymore. They should get their marriage registered tomorrow and do their best to give birth to a cute baby boy!" My adopted son has a volatile temper, so there's no way he'll go on a blind date with some random woman. I refuse Brenda's offer on the spot with a cold expression. Feeling furious and embarrassed, Brenda yells at me for being a stingy old lady. Then, she storms out of my place angrily. Three months later, Brenda shows up with her pregnant niece outside my residential area. There, they start a livestream and start crying their woes to the Internet. "Everyone, Emily Parker's adopted son tricked my poor niece, Ashley Collins, into sleeping with him! Yet now, he refuses to claim the unborn baby as his! "Oh, Ashley keeps crying every day! Can Emily even afford to take responsibility for my darling Ashley if she and her unborn baby end up dying because of that bastard? "If I gain 100 thousand likes by the end of today, I'll definitely commit suicide right on that Emily hag's doorstep!" As I look at the comments that demand justice in Brenda's livestream, I almost laugh out loud. My adopted son is actually a male monkey which has retired from the local zoo. On top of that, he's already neutered. So, what on earth is Ashley pregnant with? A magical baby monkey?

Everyone said Finley Floyd was a total family man. His dad had been dead for twenty years, and he still found him a wife. Then he started calling me—someone two years younger than him—"Mommy." Yeah. My hand slipped. I accidentally assigned the affection points to the wrong role. And somehow, Finley really believed I was his mother. When I told him—again—that I wasn't his mom, he snapped. He yanked me into his arms and buried his face against me. "You are Mommy!"

The Gray family was one of the most affluent families in Imperia's elite circles. They were also the sort of family that placed great importance on family hierarchy regardless of age. Perhaps I was being biased because my father somehow had me at the ripe old age of 80. As a result, I became one of the highest-ranking members in the Gray family ever since I was born, despite my very young age. During my full-month celebration, a 60-year-old real estate tycoon cooed at me, waving a deed, "Aw, little great-aunt. Don't cry, and I'll give you three estates." A 50-year-old medical expert quickly slid on surgical gloves. "Stay away from our great-aunt! Don't suffocate the baby!" My entire family spoiled me rotten. And so, I still acted like a spoiled princess even though I was already 20 years old. One day, I was hit with a sudden whimsy of following the trend by going on blind dates… only to run into a massive mama's boy. I looked at the crabs and quietly asked, "Can you crack them for me?" He slammed the plate and barked, "You don't get to act spoiled here! My mother told me I should find a wife who can work! If you can't even crack crabs, then you can't possibly cook or clean for us!" The guy had speakerphone on, allowing his mother to chime in, "If she wants to latch on to our family, she needs to learn how to serve us!" My eyes turned teary as I opened up my family's group chat and sent a voice message, my voice sobbing. The entire Gray family heard me cry. "Some uggo wants me to marry him just to serve his family!"

After I got a billion-dollar client drunk, I forced him to sign a contract that gave us better terms. He was then rushed to the ER. After that, I walked into the CEO's office with my legs shaking, holding my resignation letter. "Mr. Blake, I blacked out from drinking last night, lost control, and offended an important client. I'll take responsibility and resign immediately. I won't drag the company into this!" I wanted to leave as soon as possible before the Legal Department sued me and took everything I owned. The cold and distant CEO, Adrian Blake, pulled out his fountain pen with a dark expression. The next second, I never expected that I heard his thoughts wildly screaming in my head. "Damn! This woman is my lucky star! I'm someone with severe social anxiety who wants to hide the moment I see people. I was almost cornered by those ruthless businessmen! Not only did she take several drinks for me, but she also grabbed that guy by the collar and forced him to lower the contract price by 20%! But I'm the cold and untouchable CEO of a multinational company. I can't just beg her to attend every business dinner for me forever, can I?" I saw Adrian's face become tense, and a hidden excitement flashed in his eyes. I quickly grabbed my resignation letter, tore it apart, and said, "Mr. Blake, I know I made a mistake. Please let me redeem myself. From now on, I can attend all those business dinners for you!"

Julian is my twin brother. I rule the Greek scene at our Ivy League. We use different last names. Because of that, rumors fly. People think he’s just my pathetic lapdog. They think he bows to my red-bottom heels. His cold, lethal partner, Silas, finally had enough. He pinned Julian against a wall. He growled. "Do you really have to be that woman’s personal pet?" My brother just looked dazed. "She’s actually really sweet to me in private." Silas casually wiped the blood off his knuckles. He just came from crippling a guy at an underground fight club. He scoffed. "Just wait. Give me a month. I’ll rip that Black Widow’s mask right off." A month later, I had two lethal beasts willingly groveling at my feet. This time, it was my brother who grabbed Silas by the collar. Julian was losing his mind. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Silas slowly buttoned his shirt. He carefully covered the bite mark of submission on his collarbone. His eyes were dead calm. "I think you’re heavily biased against her."

My name is Mabel Lloyd, and I make a barely decent living repairing household appliances. Two weeks ago, on a night when the rain came down heavily, I found a soaking-wet stranger huddled outside my apartment building. He was ridiculously handsome, an incredible cook and had only one glaring flaw — he was painfully shy. Whenever anyone asked his name, he would blush so hard his ears turned bright red, then stand there in complete silence, unable to get a single word out. I could not bring myself to leave him out in the rain, so I rented him the spare storage room in my apartment. Everything was fine. Until today. I heard knocking at my door and, when I went over to check who it was, the building manager was standing there with three men in black suits. The one in front flashed a badge, his expression unreadable. "Routine inspection. Bureau of Supernatural Affairs. "We have reason to believe an unregistered fox shifter may be hiding on these premises." Before I could even process what he had said, a loud clang rang out from the kitchen as a frying pan hit the floor. The very next second, my painfully shy tenant cautiously peeked around the kitchen door. A pair of fluffy white fox ears twitched nervously on top of his head and, when he spoke, his voice shook so badly it sounded like a washing machine caught in the spin cycle. "Mabel... don't open the door. They're here to drag me home for an arranged marriage."

After my father vanished with fifty million dollars belonging to the Vitale Family, I went from a pampered heiress to the Mafia Don's debt-bound maid. On my very first day, I discovered that Cassian—the cold creditor ordering me to polish his shoes by day—was the same online puppy who wore a collar, knelt, and called me Mistress at night. And just the night before, I'd dumped him because I “wasn't in the mood for arelationship.” In the study, he looked down at me coldly. “Miss Bennett, polish my shoes.” “A debtor doesn't get to choose her assignments.” At the same time, my phone was buzzing like crazy in my pocket. The “puppy” I'd blocked seventeen times was already begging through yetanother new account: [Mistress, please don't leave your puppy.] [You can punish your puppy however you want tonight.]

My family, the Cosimos, has been locked in a blood feud with the Romanovs for twenty years. My father, the Don, and Don Romanov once got into a fistfight at someone else’s wedding, tearing each other’s black suits to shreds. “My son would rather be sealed in a concrete-filled oil drum than go anywhere near your daughter.” “Even if every man in America dropped dead, I still wouldn’t let my daughter have anything to do with your family.” But they didn’t know that Leon—the sole heir to the Romanov family—and I had kissed each other’s lips raw.

I've been back at the Levine residence for four months. The whole time I have been back, I'm like an invisible person whose existence is barely acknowledged. One day, I wake up and suddenly start seeing everyone's health bars above everyone's heads. The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a frog's face. I jump in fright and slap it across the face. Then, I hear my younger brother, Jacob Levine, roar furiously, "Ruthie, what the hell is wrong with you? I came to tell you breakfast is ready. Why did you hit me?" I stare blankly at the frog. The frog is glaring at me furiously. The health bar above its head has dropped by a chunk, and it looks like it's about to leap up and hit me. I rub my eyes. When I open them again, it's still the same frog face. Its mouth opens and closes as it curses at me in my brother's voice. I stare at him for three seconds before saying, "Uh… There was a mosquito on your face." The frog's face turns even greener with rage as it rages, "You kill a mosquito by giving people a slap to their faces?" I don't answer. Over his shoulder, I see Lorraine Neal standing in the doorway. She has a hideous, demonic face and protruding fangs. The health bar above her head is even shorter. My "kind and adorable" adopted sister, Thalia Levine, is peeking out from behind Lorraine. Live snakes are coiling around her neck. They're sticking their tongues out at me and hissing. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and open them again. Everything is still there. I sit on the bed, clutching the blanket, with only one thought running through my mind. I'm screwed… I think I've gone insane.

On the day I reunite with my ex-boyfriend, Zachary Carter, I'm in my electrician's uniform, arguing with a client. "I'm not leaving until you pay me, you pervert! You asked for an attractive woman to come over to your house, and now you're refusing to pay? Let's see what will happen when your wife gets home!" I yell. The door slams shut with a loud bang, and several bills are thrown onto the floor. As I crouch down to pick up the money, Zachary stands before me holding the keys to his Porsche. "You'd rather scam people and risk getting beaten to death than come back to me to ask for help?" he asked. Behind me, the client is still screaming at me. "You're crazy! I paid for an attractive woman to come over—not for an attractive woman to come over and fix my wiring!"

When I find out my husband is cheating on me, I don't cry. My pride won't let me waste a single tear on a man who isn't worth it. Instead, I crash a stranger's funeral so I can cry my eyes out over someone else's memorial photo. I'm sobbing so hard I'm shaking when the widow suddenly shoves a million-dollar check into my hand. "Take the money and get lost. Don't think you can worm your way into my family just because he's dead." I stare down at the check. Suddenly, being the other woman doesn't seem so bad. At least she gets paid. Meanwhile, I'm the wife who gets cheated on and humiliated, and somehow I'm still the one expected to step aside for the other woman. I'm about to leave when an arm suddenly blocks my way. The dead man's son is a tall, handsome college student. He leans down, looks me straight in the eye, and sneers, "You fraud. You're crying your eyes out over my dad, but you can't even get his name right." Caught, I take a step back. He plucks the check from my hand and leans close to my ear. "You want the million dollars? Fine. Then play along with me and help me piss off my mom. She's the one who actually cheated on my dad."

After I died, the Moon Goddess chose me and gave me a second life. But I had crossed over into a world of werewolves, and my mission was to win the heart of Soren, a notorious charmer who left a trail of admirers wherever he went. He brought me to the rooftop of the tallest building in the city, where countless fireworks bloomed across the sky in unison. "Surprised? I arranged this fireworks show just for you. Do you like it?" The barrage scrolled across my vision: [This is when you pretend to be shy. That's all you have to do.] Shy? Of course I could do shy. I gave him a demure smile, reached up to brush my fingers along his cheek, and gazed at him tenderly. "Surprised, yes. But fireworks are dazzling one moment and gone the next. You're the lasting surprise in my life." With a wave of my hand, the fireworks in the sky rearranged themselves to spell out Soren's name. The air went still. Not even the boom of the fireworks could drown out the hammering of Soren's heart.

On my first day at the villa, the production team hands me a mission card. I read it. "Welcome to 'Where's the Straight Guy?', a reality show where 12 male contestants will be living together for one month. Only one of them is straight, while the others are gay. Every week, two people will be voted out. If the hidden straight guy makes it to the end, he'll win ten million dollars." I'm at a loss for words for a few seconds after I finish reading. Then, I look up at the director. "Your team does know what the words 'male contestant' mean, right?" The director looks me over—my short hair, black hoodie, chest hidden under a sports bra, and my five-foot-nine height—then checks the application form. He rattles off, "Alex Callahan, male. A 26-year-old freelancer." I'm rendered speechless again. Lovely. I see the problem now.