Shigaraki Laugh Novels & Stories

I live in my own world since I was young. Or should I say I closed the door from everyone. My family's brand was music, and I hate it. I became a girl who kept everything to herself and never voice out her opinion. Why would I? It's just a waste of breath, they will never listen to her anyway. Until I met a friend who opened my closed heart and let me know that living with someone was happier. My friend, my best friend, Layla. She becomes my light in my dark world. Everything she does, right or wrong, when she cried or laugh, I will always stay by her side. Yes, I'm a loyal friend. So I tried to help a certain good man that really loved her and could make her happier. But turns out I fell to that man. Hard. Head first. I kept it to myself not until I found out that my friend was in love with another man. Oh, how happy I am. But the problem is, this man clung hardly to my best friend. Oh, what will I gonna do? Should I seduce him? However another problem kept popping. This threats... Who made them? **** This is a story of second female lead of a certain love story being in love with the second male lead. It is not only romance, but also with a hint of a thrill.

"Did you ever, even once, imagine yourself loving me?" Sarah posed a hopeful question to Philip. "Don’t make me laugh, Sarah. Everything between us has been purely about pleasure and business.” Sarah had harbored feelings for Philip ever since she first saw him in a sports magazine. When his fiancée abandoned him at the altar to elope with another man, Sarah selflessly offered herself as a replacement bride to spare his embarrassment. After enduring three years of a loveless and toxic marriage, Sarah finally summoned the courage to divorce Philip, who was still pining for his former fiancée. She vowed to herself that she would find another man who would love, trust, and worship her like a queen. This is what she sought if she were to marry a second time. A year later, their paths crossed again. Philip confronted Sarah in a ladies’ restroom, demanding, “Do not let other men touch you!” Sarah remained indifferent; her demeanor noticeably changed. “And what if I do?” she retorted. Philip’s tone grew menacing, “You won’t like what I’d do.” Unfazed, Sarah shot back, “Mr. Cornell, I’ve never liked what you’ve done, even in the past. There’s nothing new about that, and please stop whining like a baby,” before turning and walking away, disdainfully leaving him behind.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

I did everything against my beliefs in marriage. The day our worlds collided, I hated his guts. If you think a man who is striking—so damn good-looking, shallow, narcissistic, and extremely rich like Mykel Creed will ask the love of his life to marry him? You’re wrong. It was me who asked—a complete stranger, a hardworking independent woman who took a different path from the family business. Yet, right now, I’m marrying him for my inheritance. I blame myself for my self-defeating action. It doesn’t take long for me to realize my biggest mistake is marrying the right man for the wrong reason until my actions speak the loudest, and my heart starts to get a mind of its own. *** Not so long ago, my only priority was making billions with a little bit of fun along the way. Yet it only took Adley Kross a minute to make me agree to marry her—the woman who called me names. If you think I will laugh in her face, call her nuts, and show her the way out? You’re wrong. Well, I owed her, and now she comes to collect it, but that’s not the point—she had me at the first sway of her ass. I blame myself for being drawn to those sterling eyes and her gorgeous curves. But being with her seems to matter more than my money and being bound to her stupid terms.

In the final minute before the exam, my childhood friend, the one who was supposed to bring both of our exam documents, handed in only his own admission ticket. When it was my turn, his hands were empty. He said matter-of-factly, “Your exam ticket and ID aren’t here. Skip a subject and give your Cornell slot to Summer.” I froze. I couldn’t believe he would sabotage my college exam just to help Summer. Summer Hayes was the class beauty, but my grades had consistently outshined hers throughout high school. I looked at the boy I had known for eighteen years. Anger and disbelief bubbled up, making me laugh bitterly. Then I turned and walked away. Behind me, Jason Turner shouted, exasperated. “You are so good at school. So what if you repeat a year? “And now you are skipping the exam on a whim. How will that make Summer look? Are you really letting everyone think she forced you?” I didn’t even glance back. Skipping the exam on a whim. He had no idea. Two weeks ago, I had already secured an Early Admission spot in Harvard’s Physics Talent Program. Coming to the college entrance exam today was just a gesture of our eighteen-year friendship, going through the motions with him. Since he didn’t care, that friendship ended here.

I'm the scapegoat who was hired by the rich Shelton family to marry into that family under the guise of repaying them for their benevolence. But my wife, Jenny Shelton, hates me for ruining the wedding meant for her and her first love, Jackson Wembley. She has hordes of treasure under her name, and yet she only gives me five dollars every day to survive. I've starved to the point I'm all skin and bones. Jenny, on the other hand, goes through partners like mad. She even drives while under alcoholic influence in order to make her new boyfriend laugh, which results in her crashing into the generator powering in the hospital and causing my mother's death. Later on, Jenny merely throws me a black card. "Wow, you really have the heart to arrange for your mom to live in that small and rundown hospital, huh? Then again, a money-minded person like you is capable of doing everything in this world. "Take this card and get your mom transferred to a VIP ward. Don't think about stealing from this card; I'll always check the bills." But I just throw the black card away and start preparing for my mom's funeral. What Jenny doesn't know is that Jackson had chosen to flee from the altar and abandon her back then. I was just a tool hired by her family in order to comfort her. Now that my mom is dead and I'm done paying back the debt, it's time for me to leave.

Once I begged for your love while our son drew his last breath. Now watch me take back everything you hold dear. The first time, I died on a rain-slicked road with my four-year-old's name on my lips and my husband's rejection still burning in my chest. Silas Vance took three years from me. Three years of existing like furniture in his mansion while he draped Clara over his arm at every gala, every interview, every moment that mattered. When our son needed him, really needed him he let my calls go to voicemail. Thirteen times. I counted. Our son didn't make it through the night. Neither did I. Then I opened my eyes. Two years earlier. Divorce papers on the nightstand. My son's laugh echoing from down the hall. This time, I won't beg. Won't wait. Won't shrink myself small enough to fit in the shadows he assigned me. This time, I'll become someone he doesn't recognize. Someone who smiles at his enemies, steals his deals, and dismantles his empire while he's still searching for his meek little wife. When he finally figures it out—when he's pounding on my door, begging for answers, desperate for a second chance? I'll hand him those signed papers and remind him: Some deaths are just the beginning.

My husband Bruno's goomah was pregnant with their second child. At the family dinner, he caressed his lover Ava's rounded belly. "This one will be a boy, the future heir to the Marino family. As my wife, it is your duty to raise him." This was the second time he had openly acknowledged one of his bastards. I didn't make a scene like I had before. I just calmly lifted my head and looked Bruno straight in the eye. Raucous laughter erupted from the family members around the table. "Remember last time, when she acted like a madwoman? Looks like she's finally learned her place." "The Rossi family's businesses have all been carved up. What can she do besides be an infertile trophy wife? She'll be kicked to the curb sooner or later." Bruno's face was expressionless, allowing them to hurl their insults at me. I fought back the tears burning my eyes and even managed a small smile. "Bruno, let's get a divorce." Bruno looked as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, his lips curling into a dismissive smirk. "Liliana, if you can come up with the hundred million dollars you owe this family, I'll sign the papers right now. Otherwise, stop making a scene." I didn't argue, and just dialed an encrypted number. "I accept the terms we discussed." A lazy laugh echoed from the other end of the line. "A hundred million? Merely the cost of a port. I can have it for you anytime, my princess."

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."

"You know I can't talk while you're here", he says. His voice is rough, dangerous and hungry. I swallow, my throat dry. But I don't look away. "Why?" I ask, my fingers trace his jaw, trembling. "I'll be good. Promise". A dark laugh rumbles through his chest. "I don't want good", he says, voice rough. "I want you screaming my name… just not here. Not in front of the president and the damn press". His control slips as he buries his face in my neck. His lips burn where they touch. "Christ", he mutters. "What are you doing to me? I have a speech to deliver. But I can't even remember the first line. I swear I know it, but…" "You're a dirty bastard", I whisper, breathless. "Yours", he says, his teeth grazing my earlobe. "So… what do I tell the president?" –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Aneeka's messy divorce leaves her heartbroken. With her inheritance on the line, outwitting her cheating ex should be her only goal. But fate has other ideas. Just 24 hours after the divorce, she unexpectedly marries Derek Simon, the country's most eligible bachelor. What starts as a wild, prove a point kiss explodes into an undeniable, all consuming passion. The pull between them is real, hot, and impossible to ignore. Is this her second chance at love? Or a disaster waiting to happen?