Kuromi Laugh Novels & Stories

"I told you, didn't I? I instructed you, Jane. I clearly warned you not to even go towards that area but you had to be adamant..." Allen fumed. "I was just being curious about..." "And do you love the result of your curiosity now?!" He shouted at her and she hid her face away. "I...I am sorry." She apologized meekly. She didn't expect it to end up this way. "I am very disappointed in you." He replied and walked away. ____________ Things took a three-sixty-degree turn for Jane and Alex after she decided to do what she wanted. However, her return from the strange land exposed her secret that she wasn't even aware of and opened the human world to more danger which was unexpected. Different emotions sprung up from different individuals but regardless of their feelings, they needed to find the key to shutting THAT world but it required one thing - a soul. Between Jane and Alex, who would it be? Will love allow fate or will it go against fate to have it rewritten? Don't miss out on this interesting story. There are a lot of twists that will make you smile, laugh, and even gasp. Don't let's forget about the humor too. (⁠✷⁠‿⁠✷⁠) ~~~~~~~~~ Please endeavor to read Volume 1 so you can understand the concept of Volume 2. Check out my other books too: = The Maniac Son of A Mafia. = The CEOs Rejected Bride = Meeting Mr. Ice Volume 1. They are all completed. Thank you.

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

I was vacationing in St. Moritz, Switzerland with my mother when Vivian from the Valenti family office sent me a photo. The woman in it lay on the cold marble floor of the estate, her coat stripped away, her body covered in blood. No one stood near her, as if she had already been set aside like a problem to be dealt with. It was hard to tell if she was still breathing. A voice message followed, her tone sharp and controlled. “Elena, don’t assume that marrying the Don and being called Donna means your small-town family can step onto Valenti property.” “The lakeside estate Mr. Valenti just acquired is a family asset. Letting someone like your mother stay there breaks rules.” “I act on the Don’s behalf. It is my responsibility to remove people who should not be there.” “This is what happens when someone crosses a line.” I went still. Then I looked up at my mother sitting across from me. She held her tea, calm as ever. I lowered my eyes and enlarged the photo. The moment I saw the woman’s face, my chest tightened. It was not my mother. It was Luca’s. I called Vivian immediately. “Have you lost your mind? That’s Luca’s mother.” She gave a light laugh, her tone cool and distant. “Mr. Valenti has always been clear. Your mother is yours. His mother is his.” “The Valenti family does not take in outsiders.” “You may be Donna, but that does not mean your family steps inside with you.”

I've gotten into an accident. When my childhood friend, Jason Patel, drops by to visit me, I feel like pulling a prank on him all of a sudden. So, I ask, "Who are you? I've lost my memory." He's left feeling stunned for a moment before he reveals the fake smile that he often wears whenever he pulls pranks on others. "I'm your boyfriend, Jason Patel." My heart begins pounding wildly in my chest. I decide to go along with this little prank. That summer of us playing pretend has to be the happiest time of my life. But when Giselle Ford returns to our lives, Jason immediately clears the air between us. It turns out that he and Giselle have had a crush on each other during their high school days. Unfortunately, they missed the chance to date each other. What am I to them, then? So, I can only grant their wish of wanting to stay together. That's why I laugh and call Jason out for being an idiot because he can't even tell that I faked my memory loss. Unexpectedly, I get into another accident some time later. When I wake up, I ask Jason who he is again. Impatience flickers across his expression. "Don't you feel lame for using the same trick twice?" What he doesn't know is that I've truly lost my memory this time.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

“Roll your fingers into your cunt, fuck your pussy fast, and spill every inch of your juice on my face, cause I want to taste you. Right here and now!” * My best friend’s dad and I hate each other. Or so we thought. It used to be a tug of war for us. He thinks I am a lousy girl who has nothing to worry about, and I think he is a cold man who hides pain and mischief behind that hard-angled face of his. But all of that changed when I bumped into him stroking his cock and moaning my name to the picture I posted on IG to spike my still very obsessed ex. I had many plans for the years, but none included fucking my best friend’s dad during the Christmas celebration she had informed me of. But I did, and every day after that became dangerous, pulling us deeper and deeper into places only cock and cunt could reach. I am just a broken girl. One who saw herself as someone unworthy of love, until I found it in the wrongest of places. I shouldn’t want it. I shouldn’t desire him, but it started as lust and whirled into something dangerous. Now he makes me cum every night and makes me laugh every day, but at what expense do I have to keep us? I have a dream, and it's about two people who shouldn't want each other. 80 forbidden percent and….20 percent Damnation. Hello!!!! And… welcome to Ruins!

"I'm gay." My eyes grow so big as I stop breathing, but two seconds later I'm bursting with laughter. "Okay funny," I finally tone down my laugh as I bring myself to look at him again. But he is still staring at me like he had been when he told me that joke. "Wait," uhh, "Really?" He nods, "Really." "You like... guys?" "I fuck guys." Oh wow, you really can't have it all can you. When he checks all the boxes, suddenly there's this big box he doesn't. The most important box, the top on the list. "You're gay or bi?" Because there's a big difference between those two. "I'm gay." "You never fuck a woman?" "I've never fucked a woman." "Then why the hell would you want me to be your sugar baby? To watch you fuck another man's butthole?" He smirks despite my little mockery. "Oh now it's funny?" "It is," he is still smirking, "But no. It's the opposite of what I wanna do." I bring my arms across my chest as I reply in my all-business tone, "Enlighten me." *** 22 year old Estelle is one of the best sugar babies the agency has ever had. She has the whole package, no dick ever gone soft seeing how perfect she is, both her body and personality. But can she sway Owen into the heterosexual group? After being in that homo-pool all this while?

The king orders me to spend three days in a trial marriage with four beastmen separately and pick one to be my consort. The first beastman is a naga, which means double the fun down there. The second beastman is a werefox who has the fluffiest tail. The third beastman is a lycan. His kind is known for having the strongest core strength. The fourth beastman, on the other hand, is Julius Lockewood, a cervitaur I've liked since childhood. After I'm drugged, I reject the other three beastmen and search desperately for Julius while tremors rack my body. However, I end up overhearing his friend laugh and say, "Julius, you rascal. I can't believe you drugged the princess just to win a bet that she would keep herself pure for you. Aren't you worried that she'll go to someone else instead?" Julius snorts indifferently. "She's crazy in love with me. Cervitaurs prefer virgins. If she loses her virginity, she'll have no chance of marrying me. She wouldn't dare. I bet that even if she were driven mad with lust, she wouldn't touch anyone else." Heartbroken, I follow the king's orders and enter a trial marriage with each of the other three beastmen. When Julius comes to my house, he hears me beg, "Don't put your tail there…" It makes him so angry that he loses his mind. When the royal decree is issued, he gets on his knees and begs me to stay with him.

When I'm seven months pregnant, my mate, Kayden Booker, brings me to a celebratory party hosted in the Darkwind pack. Vera Walker, a Beta warrior, purposefully splashes red wine onto my gown. She also accuses me of smelling like a Rogue. I shove her away, only for her to collapse to the floor. Kayden immediately picks Vera up before slapping me in the face. "You're just a plaything to warm my bed, and yet you have the gall to touch what's mine?" That night, the video of me doing a lap dance while heavily pregnant is projected to the pack's public monitor, all thanks to Vera. The comment section is filled with the wolves' lewd chuckles and mocking comments. As I hide outside the door, I listen to Kayden and his subordinates' conversation. "She's just a human being who's meant to carry my pup. I'm going to abandon her when I get sick of her." "Only the Moon Goddess knows if that pup inside her womb is a bastard pup or what." "Vera is right. Women like her should be groomed." The wolves laugh among themselves. "Alpha Kayden, that woman sure is hot! Will you give her to us and let us have a taste?" Kayden replies icily, "Once she gives birth to that wretched pup, you can do whatever you want to her." Laughter fills the conference hall once again. I pull out the silver dagger that I've been tucking under my pillow. Then, I scratch out the countdown timer on my calendar.

"I'm sorry, but this flight is overbooked. We're going to compensate you twenty dollars. Please deplane immediately." The head flight attendant had my suitcase in a death grip. Her tone wasn't a request—it was an order. I gave her a cold look, then turned my gaze to the man beside us, who had just been escorted onto the plane, draped in designer labels. "Why does he get to board after showing up late, while I—who paid full price—am being forced off?" She let out a mocking laugh and lowered her voice to taunt me. "Because he's the son of a top-tier medical conglomerate in Scallow City. He's rushing there to beg an elusive miracle doctor—the famous Phantom Surgeon—to save his life. "No matter how urgent your business is, can it really compare to a human life? If you delay Mr. Stafford, ten lives couldn't pay for it. Now get off." Several security guards dragged me off the plane by force as I watched the cabin doors close. I laughed in sheer disbelief. The "Mr. Stafford" she was talking about was William Stafford, and he was terminally ill. What she didn't know was that I was the very "Phantom Surgeon" his entire family had been on their knees begging for three months—pleading with me to fly to Scallow City and perform his surgery today. Since they threw me off the plane, I won't be doing that operation. As for William, he can go ahead and wait for death.