Inosuke Funny Face Novels & Stories

"Eve Spencer, I just got into an accident. I hit someone, and I think he's your son!" The day after getting her driver's license, my best friend, Esther Lawson, insisted on driving alone to pick up her son from kindergarten. I warned her that the road was full of heavy trucks and told her to practice a few more days. She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I'm a great driver!" She floored the gas pedal and sped off. Not long after, she called me. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. She said she hit a child at the kindergarten. The boy's face was covered in blood, and he looked like my son. I froze. My son had a fever today. He didn't even go to kindergarten. So who had she hit?

On the first day of New Year's, my good buddy, Vincent Wales, sent me a video. “Leon, take a look. Does this woman look like your wife? It’s all over.” In the video, a man and a woman were making out passionately. As the car rocked violently, the woman’s face came into view. It was unmistakably my wife. My blood rushed straight to my head. My hands shook as I dialed her number. “Hello, honey… What’s the matter?” Her breathing was uneven, like she had just been doing something intense. I was about to speak when she suddenly let out a few loud cries. “A-Ah… It’s nothing. I’ll hang up now. I’m just playing cards with friends." With that, all I heard was the dial tone. Playing cards? She had clearly told me she was working overtime!

Married to her fated mated for years, bound by the dying wish of her mate's father, Imogene's fate hangs on the thin thread of luck as Orion overrides and humiliates her publicly by making her a trophy wife, flashing his Mistress right in her face but an accidental case of a missing necklace becomes the last straw that breaks the Camel's back. Imogene, hurt and broke knowing that the man she loves was willing to get rid of her, signs divorce papers and disappears. Five years later, the tables are turned. It seems like her ex-husband had changed his mind.

Lately, my lunch buddy at work, Kaia Watson, always sits there grinning at her phone. Whenever I ask what she's watching, she snaps impatiently, "It's just my lunchtime entertainment. Mind your own business." But before long, I notice everyone in the office staring at their phones during lunch as well. They're completely engrossed, and they break into mocking laughter every few moments. Finally, during one lunch break when no one is around, I take a peek at the video on her phone. It's an AI-generated pornographic video. To my horror, the woman seductively posing in it has my face. Before I can react, Kaia returns to her desk and snatches the phone out of my hands. Seeing my face turn pale with anger, she lets out a dismissive laugh and says, "What? Don't tell me you're about to accuse us of spreading fake rumors about you? If you didn't do it, you wouldn't be so afraid of people talking. "You sneak into the boss' office every day to take your lunch break. I don't think I need to spell out what kind of woman that makes you." Only then do I realize that my colleagues have known all along that I go into that office surreptitiously every day to take a nap. What they don't know is that my father is the owner of the company.

When His Majesty King Dominic Thornfield was attacked, my husband, Roland Wentworth, Commander of the Royal Guard, was busy placating his first love, Vivian Sinclair, who had stormed off in a fit of anger. I did not light the signal flare in my hand. Instead, I used my heavily pregnant body as a human shield to protect the King and help him escape. In my past life, I had lit that flare. Roland abandoned Vivian to rush back and save the King. He was rewarded for his loyal service by being made a Duke Protector. However, Vivian fell into a trap and died on the spot. On the surface, Roland said nothing. Yet, on the very day I went into labor, he threw me into the Beast Dungeon. My face twisted in agony as I demanded to know why. Roland merely glanced at me coldly and said, "His Majesty had plenty of guards around him, so why did it have to be me who came back? You must have done it on purpose, only caring about power and wealth. If you hadn't lit that flare, Vivian wouldn't have died. Whatever suffering Vivian endured, I'll make you pay it back tenfold!" In the end, I was torn apart and devoured by the beasts. Even the child in my womb was consumed completely. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the King was attacked.

I loved eating cakes. My dad would bring me one every day after work, and my mom bought a full set of oven and baking tools, patiently learning how to bake them for me. I once thought I was the happiest little princess in the world until the day my parents divorced. The person who came to pick up my dad turned out to be the bakery owner. My mom turned to me, growling, "This is all your fault! If you hadn't asked for cakes every day, your dad never would've cheated!" She stretched out her hands, covered in burn scars, and screamed hysterically, "I slaved away making cakes for you, and these hands have never healed since. What did you do? You both think the stuff from outside is so much better!" She grabbed a baking sheet and smacked me hard with it. I bit my lip, not daring to make a sound. That night, she brought home a little girl. Ignoring the pain all over my body, I begged for her forgiveness. "Mom, I'm sorry. Please don't throw me away. I swear I'll never eat another cake!" She slapped me across the face, but that wasn't enough to quench her anger. She tossed me into the big oven. "I'm not your mom! You love cakes so much? Stay in there and reflect on what you've done! You and your worthless dad both deserve to die!" After she slammed the door and stormed out, the little girl skipped over to the oven, grinning smugly as she hit the switch. "From now on, your mom is gonna be mine!" The oven kicked on, and the temperature began to rise. I smiled bitterly. At least this way, my mom could finally be happy.

Roseline's stomach turned and her fist clenched tightly around the handle of the big travel box beside her. She heard the clanging sound of the metallic head of Thompson's belt meeting the ground. Next, quite footsteps. Then, Thompson appeared in her view, like a ghost she didn't believe existed. He was completely bare, with his hairy chest rising and falling slowly, his cock shooting out in front like a gun ready to be fired, his balls bloated from desire, swinging from side to side as he walked closer to bed. Roseline's feet stuck to the ground and her eyes refused to blink as they looked on. "That's it, my boy. Hmm! I like what I see", the red hair gasped, rolling her eyes longingly at Thompson. As Thompson climbed unto the bed, his eyes totally locked in hers, she drew her breasts closer him, then, proceeded to rock the big pumpkins against the flushed skin of his face. "You like them?", she asked, moaning lightly. Thompson paused. Then, in a defiant move of uncontrollable desire, dug his chin into her breasts, burying his entire face in them. "Ouch", she gasped, then broke into a weak laugh, pushing his head more into her chest. "The damn bra", she spoke again, twisting uncomfortably as she threw her hands behind her to unhook the material. But Thompson caught her hands. Without words, his head still hidden in her cleavage, he slowly returned her hands to his head. Obliging to his silent command, she cackled loudly, pressing her chest even more into his face and then, with her tongue, glided across his neck and ears hungrily. Roseline froze. She wanted to scream but in that moment, she forgot how to.

She was framed for the crime she didn't commit. He destroyed her for it. When Alicia Grey is blamed for the death of her billionaire husband's sister, her life is erased overnight. Accused, convicted, and abandoned by everyone she trusted, Alicia loses her career, her freedom, and her name. She escapes. Six years later, Alicia returns with power, secrets, and children the Belmont empire was never meant to know about. As the truth behind the tragedy claws its way into the light, Killian must face the woman he broke and the lie that destroyed them both. However, forgiveness was never part of the contract.

My Alpha brother's Omega assistant had always wanted to be Luna. She didn’t know my identity and she mistook me as a rival trying to steal her place. She framed me for theft and tortured me without mercy. As I lay dying, it was my old companion—Rex, the Siberian war dog who had fought beside my brother and earned the highest military honors—who sacrificed his life to protect me. She dragged me by my hair, smugly satisfied, and threw me before the crowd like refuse. In her hands, she flaunted her "gift" made from Rex's fur. She had no idea she was about to face the fury of the entire werewolf world.

At our marking ceremony, my mate, Anthony Landon, drove a silver dagger straight into my chest. Through the pain, I saw him mark the most unremarkable Omega shewolf in the pack, who was also my sworn enemy, Lara Elliot. I collapsed onto the freezing stone platform. I watched them hold each other while my wolf spirit experienced unbearable pain from being betrayed. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Anthony whisper to Lara that he had planned this marking ceremony for an entire year. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn three days before the marking ceremony. The wound in my chest was gone, but I could still feel the pain deep in my bones. This time, I would no longer be the fool waiting to become his Luna. 'Anthony, I'll take back everything you owe me with interest. 'As for this marking ceremony, I've decided to change the male lead.'