Laughing Box Spongebob Novels & Stories

I was the legitimate firstborn daughter of the King of the North. After my mother’s death, my aunt married the King of the South and became his Queen Consort. She brought me to her court, raising me beside her own sons. The Southern King adored me—He would seat me upon his knee and gesture toward the princes, laughing lightly: “When Hazel comes of age, whichever prince she chooses as her husband shall inherit this throne of the South.” “Stay here, child. The South could be your home.” In my previous life, I chose the Crown Prince—Ethan. I stood beside him during the War of Succession. I funded his armies with Northern gold. I silenced rival lords. I secured the throne for him. And when he was crowned king—He repaid me with imprisonment in the White Tower. And an order signed in his own hand. The North burned.The court was purged. Before I was forced to take my own life, he came to watch. “If not for you,” he said coldly, “Ava would still be alive.” “She died alone while I could not even mourn her. You will suffer tenfold.” “The Nouth falls because of you. Their blood is your dowry.” Then I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was seated once more in the Great Hall. The King was smiling. “Hazel, today you will choose your husband.” The princes stood before me. This time, I did not look at Ethan. I pointed instead to the Queen’s third son. “I will marry Alexander.” And this time—I would decide who burns.

I've returned to the Ashcroft family for three years. All three homecoming parties have ended in failure. At the first party, I was accused of stealing a watch in front of the guests. Because of that, I became the entire elite society's laughingstock. In the second party, I was pushed into a swimming pool. As such, I suffered from a high fever and was comatose for three days. It almost killed me. In the third party, a forged paternity test was hurled in my face. My own mother announced that she had cut all ties with me on the spot. Every party ended with the fake heir, Everest Ashcroft, bursting into tears and admitting his mistakes. But the entire family kept telling me, "Everest is deathly afraid of you obtaining our love meant for him. That's why he threw a small tantrum. "You're already acknowledged as a son of the Ashcrofts. Why must you keep latching onto this matter so pettily?" In the fourth party held on the fourth year, Everest threatens to off himself. In order to save him, I fall from the rooftop, causing my right leg to suffer from a comminuted fracture. My entire family huddles around Everest, who's obviously shaken, and keeps showering him with love and care. The butler is ordered to pass on their message to me. "Know your place. Do not disturb Everest when he's in bedrest." As I caress my broken leg, I keep laughing until tears stream down my cheeks. It's not that Everest doesn't want the Ashcrofts to give away their love to me. It's just that the Ashcrofts don't want to acknowledge me as a part of them at all. In that case, I might as well leave this family permanently.

I slid under his arms, seeking a safe place to catch my breath. I noticed a playful smile on his lips, but I chose to ignore it. "Will the transformation hurt?" I lowered my gaze and whispered. "First, your bones start to break, sending you to the ground," his eyes were closed. "Then, thick fur will grow all over your body. The limb stretching, I think that's the most thrilling part of the pain." The Alpha teased with a flicker of his tongue before continuing. "Next comes the shortening of the snout and the development of sharp claws and fangs." "Will I become irrational?" I covered my mouth, trying to control the knot that had formed in my throat. "How do you control it?" Laughing, he had already reached me and pulled me close, digging his claws not too deeply into my hip, causing a painful moan. "It takes strength, training, and having the goddess on your side, human..." He withdrew his claws, leaving only a long scratch, and returned to my chin, scratching it and collecting a drop of blood. He licked it and smiled. "Don't worry, I'll be here throughout your trial..." "To make sure I die?" With tears in my eyes, I took a few more steps towards his dangerous game, realizing that his breathing was slightly heavier. "You remind me a lot of her," he murmured, pressing his forehead against mine. "To ensure your transformation doesn't get out of control and to witness the deity's choice." With more pressure on my forehead, he forced me to take a few steps back in pain.

At the birthday banquet of the old Godfather, Salvatore Moretti, the estate was bustling with high-profile guests. Don Marco Moretti arrived late, bringing along his new secretary, Sophie. "Elena, move to the opposite side. It's Sophie's first time at an event like this, and she’s used to sitting next to me." I didn't hesitate for a single second. Picking up my wine glass, I walked straight over and sat down beside Salvatore, whose face was completely grim. Marco raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by how compliant I was. He then guided a visibly nervous Sophie into the seat that had just been mine. Soon after, my phone buzzed in my hand. 【Are you making a scene again? How many times do I have to tell you? I just brought the girl out to show her the world. Stop throwing these pathetic, jealous tantrums.】 【I’ll fly you to Paris next week to pick out your wedding dress. Stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?】 I let out a soft laugh. Seeing the smile on my face from across the table, Marco smiled back, thinking he had smoothed things over. What he didn't know—What I was actually laughing at was the fact that we wouldn't be going to Paris at all. Exactly ten minutes before he walked through the door, I had already finalized the dissolution of our engagement with Salvatore. A notification from the airline popped up on my screen: Flight departing in three hours. Marco, after tonight, you and I are completely finished.

{SUPPORT = MOTIVATION = MORE UPDATES} Valery Hale ~ All I ever wanted was a comfortable life for me and my brother, Derek. With no parents, I had to work hard to put food on our table. Derek needs to go to school, and I need money for the never-ending bills. Just when life starts getting good, fate decides to throw in a box of scorpions. I can barely make ends meet every month, as if that isn’t hell enough. How am I supposed to make the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company fall in love with me? Did I mention he’s also an Alpha Lycan?   Nathaniel Kress ~ For generations, KressCo. has met the needs of The BloodFlame Pack. Being the next Alpha, I am to also take over as the CEO of the company, but my father won’t let me until I claim someone to replace my deceased Mate. I don’t believe in second-chance Mates and even if I did, not Valery. I should've rejected her from the start because now I can’t get her out of my head. If only I knew she wasn’t the innocent lamb she was so good at pretending to be... -- Jaden points the loaded gun at me. “Valery, you have three months to get the bastard to marry you. Succeed, and you’ll get your brother back in one piece. Fail.” My heart skips a beat at the click sound the gun makes in his hands. “Fail, and I’ll break every bone in his body, then feed him to my sharks.” He threatens with his hand outstretched to me. “It’s simple enough, so do we have a deal?” The Mafia Lord asks, his lips curving to form an evil grin. Like I have a choice. “Yes.” --

For years, no one had been able to activate the last dragon's heart. No one except a poor young thief. ___ She only had one job–stealing a precious stone. Yet it landed her with an overbearing dragon. ___ Locked and chained, Scar suddenly awakened when his heart palpitated for the first time in decades, coming face to face with a young girl cradling his heart. In his vengeful attempt to get it back, they activate the spell binding him to her. Now not only was his heart stolen, but he was also enslaved. Scar vowed to kill the girl once the bond was broken. The only problem is no one had ever successfully broken a dragon bond, nor would it allow him to harm its new master. ___ "Oh... um ... sorry. I didn't mean to…um.. pry. I'm... gonna go now." I stuttered, inching backward from his penetrating gaze, glancing around for a way out. "I don't know who you're, but I do know you're not here willingly. Seeing as you're chained and all." Silence. "How about I set you free, and in return, you get us out of here?" Silence. Maybe he couldn't talk, so I did the only thing I could. Grabbing the keys, I fumbled with the heavy chains of his cage. His gaze finally shifted to the wooden box I dropped on the floor. "Fancy, isn't it?" I said. "I've never seen anything like it before. But then again, I'm not familiar with expensive stuff." A deep rumble rattled from his throat, freezing me in place. I glanced up at him wearily. "Run." And then he was charging towards me. ___ Tropes: Enemies to lovers. Hidden identity. Reverse harem. Betrayal. Revenge. Arranged marriage. Contract. Escape with pregnancy. Forced proximity. ___

Adrian Wells just wants to be left alone. Quiet nights, warm tea, and his sketchpad are all he needs to survive in a world that has taken too much from him already. Scarred by the fire that claimed his family and plagued by anxiety that keeps him from truly living, Adrian has grown used to solitude. But someone else has been watching—and waiting. When a black box appears at his doorstep, filled with unsettlingly personal gifts, Adrian brushes it off as a prank. But the messages grow bolder. The intrusions into his life become impossible to ignore. Someone knows him. Someone sees him. And that someone is Evan Thorn. Evan isn’t just a stalker—he’s a protector in his own twisted way. Rich, intelligent, and obsessive, he believes Adrian is his to love, to shield, to possess. From anonymous letters to watching from the shadows, Evan orchestrates a careful descent into Adrian’s world, eliminating anyone who gets too close. But he isn’t the only one watching. When a more violent rival stalker emerges, Adrian finds himself caught between two versions of danger: the chaos of the unknown and the devil he’s slowly come to understand. As the walls close in, Adrian is forced to rely on Evan—the very man who shattered his sense of safety. What begins as fear turns into something darker: a toxic intimacy that blurs the line between captor and comfort. As Adrian starts to feel seen for the first time in his life, he questions whether love can grow in the shadows—or if it’s just another kind of cage. In a story about obsession, trauma, what, If someone breaks you just to put you back together, is that still love? And when you finally escape them, do they ever really leave?

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

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.

I collapsed at work and rushed to the hospital. When I saw the pregnancy test results, my heart filled with joy. Finally, something to save our loveless marriage. But my billionaire husband Ethan didn't ask if I was okay. He yelled at me for missing work. I noticed a Tiffany box in his car and my hope returned. Maybe he does care. Maybe he bought me something special. That night, his stepsister Mara came home after years abroad. She walked into our dining room wearing the necklace from that box. The one I thought was mine. She smiled at me while touching the diamonds around her neck. Then she took my seat in his car. My project at work. My place at the dinner table. Even my bedroom felt like hers. When the elevator crashed and we both screamed for help, Ethan came running. He pulled her out first. He held her like she was his whole world. He left me bleeding on the floor, begging him to save our baby. I heard them talking through the hospital wall. Mara asked if he loved me. The silence that followed broke something inside me I can never fix. His grandfather kept them apart because they're stepsiblings. Now he's dead. Now she's back. And I'm just the wife standing in her way. I'm pregnant with his child, but I'm starting to realize the truth. I was never his first choice. I was never even his second. I was just someone to fill the space until she came home. The question is, will I stay and watch him choose her over and over again? Or will I finally choose myself?