Male Face Claims Novels & Stories

I saw my college roommate send a voice message into a group chat. I watched his screen as our four other roommates responded. However, there were no notifications on my phone. That was when I realized the five of them had created a group without me. In that group, they complained about me being a dumb rich kid, cursed my mom for being a homewrecker, and secretly took nude photographs of me. They were even planning to drug me and give me to a older rich woman for her entertainment. I covered all their meals, drinks, and living expenses, yet they dared to betray me? Fine. I would show them the true rage of a trust fund kid!

My mom always said, "I've never played favorites. "You and your brother mean exactly the same to me." She said it so often I almost believed it. Growing up, anything my brother had, I had too. If he got a new pair of sneakers, so did I. If he signed up for coding classes, I was enrolled in the same ones. Even this year, when we came home for the holidays, my mom smiled as she handed each of us a neatly-packaged designer shopping bag. "I picked these out for you two at the store. One for each of you, exactly the same. "These outdoor brands are expensive, you know. A single jacket costs thousands. I'd never buy one for myself, but I don't mind splurging on you two." I took the jacket. It was well-cut, structured, and looked high-quality. A small warmth stirred in my chest. However, when I tried it on, the collar felt oddly irritating against my skin. Frowning, I pulled back the lining to check. There was a ring of yellowed sweat stains around the label, and tiny flakes of dandruff were caught in the Velcro. A faint musty smell lingered on the cloth, mixed with the stale odor of cheap tobacco. It was sour and impossible to ignore.

On the day the SAT test results were released, my younger brother, who had always been an average student, turned out to be a perfect scorer. Meanwhile, I, the straight-A student, had my results voided because my answers were deemed poorly structured. During a reporter's interview, my brother suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and slammed his head against the ground. "Henry, I was wrong! "I shouldn't have scored so high! I really didn't mean to refuse to take the exam for you! "Please don't send me back to the fighting ring! "Don't worry! I swear I'll never tell anyone about what you do with men at bars! Please just let me go!" My parents were heartbroken for him. They slapped me over and over while shouting. "It's one thing for you to fool around out there, but how could you bully your brother too? "Thank goodness this was the SAT test, so you couldn't force him to take it for you! Otherwise, you would've ruined his entire future!" My girlfriend immediately dumped me and got together with him instead. She said she wanted to make it up to him on my behalf. As soon as the interview aired, videos of me fooling around with other men in bars spread everywhere online. Before long, all my personal information was exposed. Enraged netizens lured me into a remote forest in the hills. "Are you this desperate? Stay here and reflect on yourself!" I was coiled by a lethally venomous snake. The pain was unbearable. My parents clearly knew what had happened, yet they refused to save me. "It's just a small snake. You're not going to die! "You're not allowed to come home until your brother starts college!" On the day of our high school graduation party, my brother and his girlfriend received acceptance letters from the country's best college, along with a notebook I had sent them.

After returning to my in-laws' home for Christmas Eve dinner with my wife, Winona Zachary, only my mother-in-law, Jenny Stroll, was busy while the others were all on their phones. I had just sat down when Jenny started cursing, "They just sit there and wait to eat. They didn't even offer to help. Are they trying to exhaust me?" She would even slam the pots and pans from time to time. "How heartless for young people to let an elderly person like me serve them!" I felt a bit restless and nudged Winona. "Maybe you should go help her?" Jenny's insults escalated after hearing that. Remembering it was my first time spending Christmas at my in-laws' house and not wanting things to get too ugly, I got up to help. However, Jenny dumped everything on me as soon as I entered the kitchen. Suppressing my anger, I finished cooking dinner, served it, and got ready to eat. Jenny suddenly spoke up. "Wait, we need to settle some accounts before we eat."

On Valentine’s Day, I went skiing for fun. I never expected my younger sister, Fiona White, to get into an argument with our parents and run away. She came to find me. The hotel receptionist made her register as a guest despite sharing my room. I said, “She’s my sister. She ran away from home after an argument and did not bring her driver's license. She’s only staying one night. I’ll send her home tomorrow.” However, he looked at us menacingly. He gave Fiona a lewd wink and acted like he knew what was really going on. “Sure.” He smiled. “It’s Valentine’s Day, so I get it. No need to be shy.” Seeing how tired Fiona was, I took her upstairs without making a fuss. However, I found a post online later that night. [Some men are really so brazen. He brought a prostitute to the hotel and denied it when I called him out. He insisted that she’s his little sister. Does he think I can’t tell?] Some netizens questioned him and told him that maybe he was wrong in his assumption. [I’ve been in this field for more than a decade. I know what I saw! He didn’t dare to register her. That means he was afraid his wife might find out about his actions! I’ll go to their room and record just how loudly that woman moans. I’ll livestream it!] I was stunned. I thought it was just a coincidence. I clicked on the photo the receptionist had sneakily taken and froze. That was me! Did he think Fiona, who was lying on the couch, was a prostitute? But she was really my little sister!

On the eve of our wedding, Olivia Smith tells me that she wants to attend a bachelorette party. Not wanting to disappoint her, I agree to let her go. I even tell her to not drink that much at the party. She leaves a kiss on my cheek bashfully and tells me that she will make me the happiest man tomorrow. But on the next day, I can't reach OIivia via phone at all. Instead, I notice a post her childhood friend, Aiden Jones, has uploaded to his Instagram feed. "Tomorrow, you'll become another man's wife. Please let me claim you one last time." There's a close-up photo of two people smushing their cheeks together. After putting down my phone quietly, I inform everyone that the wedding has been canceled.

On the eve of our wedding, Mabel Jones' first love, Carter Hayes, has shredded my custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars. The waistband of my pants has torn open, causing the pants to fall off my body. As such, I endhttps://gn.activitycms.com/hwyc-admin/bookManager/book/edit?bookId=31001354896# up humiliating myself in front of the wedding guests. Carter is still holding a pair of scissors as he looks at me innocently. "I'm so sorry, Aiden. I must have ruined your pants because I used a little more force than needed. You won't blame me for what happened, right?" Mabel rushes over and snatches the scissors away from Carter. She tells him, "Why should Aiden blame you? You offered to cut the loose thread out of the kindness of your heart. If anything, he's to be blamed for tearing the pants from how fat he is!" As I continue to lift the pants, I just watch Mabel and Carter interact with each other in a lovey-dovey manner. Now that my suit is ruined, it's time for me to wake up from my fantasy.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

"Sir, the divorce agreement from the safe." On their fifth wedding anniversary, in a dimly-lit restaurant, Xavier Hampton's secretary placed the divorce papers in front of him. Five years ago, on the day Elizabeth Eaton and he registered their marriage— She had loved him deeply. So deeply that she had prepared the divorce agreement in advance, signed her name, and locked it away in the safe. If she ever betrayed him, all he had to do was sign. Xavier picked up the pen and swiftly signed his name. Across from him, the empty seat seemed heavier than any presence. His gaze dimmed. "Send the divorce papers to Attorney Harvey," he said, his voice calm, almost detached. "Then book a hotel and have the wedding venue set up in advance." The secretary hesitated for a moment before carefully asking, "Whose names should I write as the bride and groom?" "Elizabeth Eaton and Connor Walker."