Where Can I Read Comedic Timing Online For Free?

Every April Fools’ Day, Wilson Hale and Chloe Mercer turned our anniversary into a joke. A fake proposal. A trick ring. A room full of laughter. And every year, Wilson was sure I loved him too much to leave. This year, cake cream slid down my face, my ring hit the marble floor, and he still smiled like I would forgive him by morning. He forgot one thing. I was not Vivian Gray, the lonely girl with nowhere to go. I was Vivian Vescari, daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast. I had left that world because I wanted to be loved before anyone knew my name. For six years, I thought Wilson was that man. Then I learned even his first confession had been an April Fools’ bet. So I stopped being the joke. I went home.

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

Okay, so this one's for everyone whose imagination has a mind of its own. You know exactly who you are. For the readers who love stories that linger long after the last page. The ones who chase tension, chemistry, forbidden attraction, and characters who blur the line between right and wrong. And for those who insist they're "just here for the plot"... I'll let you keep telling yourself that. Consider this your judgment-free corner—a collection of stories filled with temptation, longing, obsession, and unforgettable connections. Some stories will make you smile. Some will leave your heart racing. Others may have you questioning every decision your favorite characters make. Whatever you're looking for, there's a story waiting for you. Enjoy... and don't say I didn't warn you. ✦ Content Advisory This collection explores mature themes and may include coercive situations, violence, emotional manipulation, degradation, multiple-partner dynamics, and other dark relationship elements. Reader discretion is advised.

A thirty-year-old office lady, who got into an accident and is now trapped inside a novel series she loves. She was reincarnated into one of the side character extras of the story and meets in person the tyrant magician, the playboy prince, and the clueless female lead of the story.

I transmigrated into the role of a gorgeous villainess, tasked with tormenting my childhood buddies. I forced Maddox, Mr. Tough Guy, into putting on a sexy dress, essentially killing his chances of a social life. I grabbed the bottom of the ever-aloof Zane and made him red in the face. I kicked Damian, the crybaby, into the ground, and all he could do was glare at me through his tearful eyes. My aggressive antics only fueled their resentment. “One of these days, I’ll get you.” I winked at them without a care. “I’ll be waiting.” The day they crossed paths with the female lead would be the day I left this world. Their revenge didn’t scare me one bit. Little did I know, the time would come when I would be proven wrong. While I scrambled to get away in tears, he said softly, “Save your strength. The night is still young.”

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?