Anime Hugs Novels & Stories

Wolves are dangerous creatures. They hunt and kill for sport. It’s what my mother has always told me. But when she goes and gets pregnant, for one, she leaves me with a little girl whom I have come to love more than my life. I will do anything to protect her. Even marrying an alpha who is marrying to keep his position. Our marriage was meant to deceive his brother and keep his position while I get my sister’s disease treated. The kisses, hugs, and touches were all meant to deceive, but what about the love we make when people are not watching? Is that fake? No, that’s real. It’s real until his mate comes, and my world comes crumbling down right before my eyes. Will I stay or fight? I mean, I’m used to running.

My wife, Lillian Harmon, skips our daughter's birthday party to celebrate her male assistant’s birthday instead. We run into them at the restaurant. My daughter, Rosetta Coleman, runs over and hugs her. She calls out, "Mom." But Lillian pushes her away coldly and pretends not to know her. She turns and wraps her arms around Marcus Fisher while explaining, "I have no idea where this brat came from. She's just randomly calling strangers her mom." Rosetta is hurt and confused. She is on the verge of tears as she asks, "Why did Mommy pretend not to know me?" I hold her and say, "You got the wrong person. Your mom is in Marindale." Right away, I file for divorce and take Rosetta to Marindale. But Lillian loses her mind and chases after us to beg for our forgiveness. I keep her out of our lives and find Rosetta a new mother.

Experience the life of Laura Mackey, who has been bullied at the orphanage for the past 18 years and finally gathers up the courage to escape with her besties force and prepares to face her unknown destiny. She begins to search for her life, that was scattered into pieces and thrown in different directions. Discovering the existence of her sister, they happens to travel to a Bazoda (a parallel universe) and accidentally find an important part of the puzzle about her mother who was murdered there. What would she do when the late princess of Bazoda, plans to resurrect her mother and trap them forever only to achieve POWER. Why is her mother so important to the late princess? Will she be able to rescue her family and return home? Will her love wait for her patiently without knowing her whereabouts? Will she ever have the normal family life that she has always dreamt about? _________________________ This book is a total package of #love #revenge #fantasy #betrayal #care #freedom #family #adventure ________________________ Discover this and more in the story of 'The Lost Destiny' Hop on and experience the roller coaster ride. __________________________ PLEASE MAKE SURE TO COMMENT YOUR REVIEWS. (This book is completely fictional) ___________________________ A hearty request to unsee all the errors in writing. Happy reading! Love and Hugs Cheers ~Hana

Ever since my CEO husband returned from his business trip, he's been acting strange. His hugs are stiff, and his kisses are empty. Even when we're intimate, something just feels off. When I ask him why, he just smiles and says he's tired from work. But everything falls into place the moment I see his first love stepping out of his Maybach, her body covered in hickeys. That's when I finally give up. I don't argue or cry. I just smile… and tear up the 99th love coupon. Once, he wrote me a hundred love letters. On our wedding day, we made a promise—those letters would become 100 love coupons. As long as there were coupons left, I'd grant him anything he asked. Over the four years of our marriage, every time he left me for his first love, he'd cash in one. But what he doesn't know is that there are only two left.

Three months after I give birth, Nicholas Faulkner finally makes his choice between his first love and me. He agrees to marry me. Everyone thinks I am hopelessly in love with him and would never give up the chance to secure my position as his wife with our child. But I refuse, give up my son, and leave on my own. Nicholas doesn't take it seriously and says nonchalantly to his friends, "She's just throwing a tantrum. She even poked holes in condoms just so she would end up having my child to make me marry her. How could she possibly let go so easily?" No one expects that I would be gone for five whole years. When we meet again, I am accompanying my husband to a birthday banquet for an elder. A little boy blocks my way. He hugs me and turns to shout behind him, "Dad, I found Mom! You don't have to hold Mom's photo and cry every night anymore!" My heart clenches as I look up and meet Nicholas' reddened eyes.

On the day of our wedding, Henry Zander, my fiance, gets his legs broken in a car crash in his attempt of playing the knight in shining armor who intends to rescue the damsel in distress. So, I terminate our wedding on the spot. Both families surround me, trying to convince me to prioritize the bigger picture. My future mother-in-law cries her heart out as she takes my hand. "Winona, Henry got crippled because of his acts of heroism! He's the real hero here! If you head over to the hospital and take good care of him from now on, we'll still be a family!" My mom hugs me as well, her voice lowered. "You're still pregnant with the Zanders' heir, Winona. Do you have the heart to deliver your baby to this world without a father in their life? Hurry up and apologize to the Zanders so that this incident can be water under the bridge!" My dad acts more impulsively by slapping me on the spot and calling me an insensitive bastard who humiliates the family. Regardless, I walk over to the emcee calmly and pick up the microphone. "I'll give the 880-thousand-dollar wedding gifts meant for Henry and me to the driver involved in this car accident."

After my girlfriend's father hit someone with a car, he took his own life because he didn't want to get arrested. But in doing so, he left behind a huge debt he had racked up. In order to help my girlfriend pay off the compensation, I work around the clock as a food deliveryman. Every day, I sleep less than four hours just to squeeze in more work. But when I finish delivering a new order, I notice a man clad in a bathrobe standing in front of me at a hotel suite's doorway. He's completely covered in hickeys. A young woman dressed in a sexy nightgown hugs him from behind. "I'm absolutely famished right now because of how long you've been tormenting me in bed earlier, darling! Hurry up and grab the takeout!" I can only stare at the woman, completely shell-shocked. That's when the bag of takeout slips off my fingers and crashes onto the floor. The woman takes a step backward. Her brows drawn into a frown, she exclaims, "How are my boyfriend and I supposed to enjoy the food now that it's all dirty?" After that, she kicks the takeout at me right away, spilling grease all over my clothes. I remain rooted to the spot, still stunned. This woman… is Irene Swensen, my girlfriend who's about to get engaged to me.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'