Laughter Novels & Stories

On my birthday, my adopted sister, Sophia Norris, frames me for soiling her dress and causing her to not be able to attend the banquet. My older brothers, Gerald and Gary Moore, immediately demand that I give my gown to Sophia. Otherwise, they will cancel the birthday banquet. Furious, I point at them while screaming, "I didn't ruin her dress at all! She was the one who splashed red wine onto it! "Also, I will never give my gown to her! My best friend designed it for me!" As soon as my words fall, Gerald commands the bodyguards to tear the gown from my body. At the same time, Gary picks up a wine glass and dumps red wine onto my face. "It's bad enough that you constantly bully Sophia! Today, her crush, Zachary Green, will be attending the banquet too! Do you have any idea how long she has prepared for this day to come?" Gerald adds, "A vile woman like you doesn't have the right to be born, let alone celebrate your birthday!" After that, a few bodyguards drag me into the basement. Immediately, pitch-black darkness swallows me. I have severe asthma. Breathing becomes insanely difficult for me as seconds tick by. I keep screaming loudly and calling for help, but all I hear is laughter coming from the banquet upstairs. It isn't until the banquet is well underway that Gerald and Gary remember that I exist. But I've already died in the cramped basement.

On her birthday, Jasmine instead received destruction. Her face was ruined by an accident, and the love she believed would last forever collapsed in an instant. “I’m disgusted by the way you look now,” Christopher said coldly, canceling their wedding without guilt. “Didn’t you promise you would stay with me?” Jasmine’s voice trembled. “That promise applied when you were still perfect,” the man replied cruelly. The betrayal did not stop there. Christopher chose Valentina—Jasmine’s stepsister, who had long been jealous and full of ambition. Even more painful, Jasmine’s biological father took Valentina’s side. The house turned into hell; insults and mockery became daily fare. Leaving with wounds and shattered pride, Jasmine nearly lost everything—until fate brought her together with a mysterious old man. Jasmine’s courage in saving the old man led her to Jaden King, the heir to a respected business empire. “You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy,” Jaden said gently, looking at Jasmine without disgust, without pity. From a discarded woman, Jasmine rose to become the wife of a business ruler. When she returned, Christopher and Valentina laughed at her. “Jaden King’s wife? Don’t joke,” they mocked. But the laughter turned into fear when Jaden appeared and said firmly, “She is my wife. And starting today, your lives are over.” Love, betrayal, rebirth, and revenge—will Jasmine forgive, or will she settle every wound that once destroyed her? Is this conversation helpful so far?

After the college entrance exam, the school's reigning beauty dragged me into a wager over our scores. "Only the girl with the higher marks is worthy of being Eric's girlfriend." Eric Lowell scoffed. "That's enough, Jocelyn. My relationships aren't yours to dictate." Then, in front of everyone, he confessed to me. I mistook it for the answer to a long-held crush. With the crowd egging us on, I flushed and said yes. That night, he took me back to his place. From then on, we hardly spent a night apart. Before application season, I went to his house, hoping we would apply to the same university. Instead, I overheard part of a phone call. "Jocelyn, everything's ready: the photos, the videos. Just like you asked." Jocelyn's laughter drifted through the receiver, light and pleased. "You must've gone to so much trouble~ Then let's wait until the school assembly the day after tomorrow and stream it to the whole school. I'm curious to see how Tessa plans on applying to those top-tier universities after that." "Eric," she added casually, "you're not having second thoughts, are you?" He hesitated, then answered, "Why would I? If anyone's at fault, it's her for not knowing her place. What right does she have to keep scoring higher than you?" I set the custom ring down, opened my email, and accepted the Oxford offer that had been waiting for me for a week.

Is your wedding day supposed to be the happiest day of your life? Well, not if you happen to be the substitute bride! On her twin sister's wedding day, Kyla Eva Fuentabella takes on the role of substitute bride. Enzo Denver Mondragon is the groom, but little do the guests know that he is marrying Kyla Eva, the other twin sister of Kylie Eve. It went unnoticed that the renowned model Kylie Eve Fuentabella had a twin sister named Kyla Eva. Kyla remained hidden, serving as a backup and the most adept at concealing her twin sister's controversies. On her wedding day, Kylie Eve flees, prompting her twin sister, Kyla Eva, to take her place. Kylie assured Kyla she would return in three days. However, things go differently than expected. Since then, Kyla hasn't had the chance to see her twin sister. Unfortunately, Kyla is now forced to assume the role of Kylie Eve and become Enzo Denver Mondragon's wife. This situation is difficult for Kyla, as she has always had feelings for Enzo but has given up pursuing him because her twin sister, Kylie, also loves him. How can Kyla escape from Enzo's sweet kisses and temptation? Can she meet Enzo's needs and satisfy him? What will happen if Enzo discovers that the woman sleeping on his bed is not the same woman he promised his ring of love? A story of love that will melt your heart, give you a rainbow of laughter and fill up a bucket of tears.

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

Addy Walker once believed love was supposed to be loud—felt in bedtime stories, laughter in the kitchen, and the warmth of arms that made the world feel safe. That’s how it was before her mother died. Before her father changed. Grief hollowed him out. The man who once teased and protected became a shell—quiet, cold, unreachable. Then came the bottles. The slammed doors. The bruises. Addy, now eighteen, has learned to survive in silence—walking lightly, speaking carefully, hiding her pain beneath long sleeves and polite smiles. She works long hours to keep food on the table while her father sinks deeper into debt and addiction. One night, she comes home to a dark, freezing house—again. The electricity is off. Again. And she knows why. She confronts him, her voice sharper than it’s ever been. He denies it at first, but the truth is already spread across the kitchen counter in final notice bills and losing betting slips. He’d gambled away the electric bill money on a horse. The argument erupts. He screams, she stands her ground. When he slaps her, she doesn’t flinch. Something inside her shifts. She’s done waiting for the man he used to be. Addy packs a bag. She’s leaving—for real this time. No plan. No destination. Just freedom. But as she storms out into the rain, a long, black car pulls up to the curb. A man steps out—tall, broad-shouldered, older. His face is hard, almost frightening in the shadows, but he’s striking. Dangerous. And calm.

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

Selena learned early how to make herself smaller. As a plus-size omega, she grew up under laughter that followed her through hallways and silence that taught her she was never meant to be chosen. She was expected to endure, not dream. To accept whatever scraps of kindness came her way. So when Alpha Christopher claimed her, she believed it meant something. That she had finally escaped being invisible. That love had seen past her body, past her place, and decided she was worth keeping. She’s wrong. On the night before she becomes Luna, her mate destroys everything she believed in. His betrayal is cruel. His rejection is worse. And when she runs, she isn’t looking for love. She’s just trying to breathe. She finds one night of quiet ruin with a stranger named D. A man who looks at her like she is not too much. A man who protects her without asking and takes her without shame. By morning, she leaves, certain it was only a mistake. Back at the packhouse, the bullying returns. The control tightens. And the Alpha King is coming. Her ex’s uncle. A man feared for his cruelty and power. What Selena doesn’t know is that the man she plans to use to survive is the same man who already claimed her body in the dark. And when he realizes who she is, he won’t see a weak omega or a girl taught to feel small. He will see something that belongs to him. And he will not let her go.

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!