Hachishakusama Sound

“Breathe, Chloe. Just breathe,” Talon said, kneeling beside me. His voice was steady, his hands glowing faintly with a soft blue light as he pressed them to my back. “You're safe now. I gasped for air, coughing as I collapsed into Jett’s embrace. Kael crouched in front of me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Who did this to you?” he growled. “Tell me. My lips trembled, but no sound came out. “Was it Ezra Kane?” Jett asked, his voice low and full of danger. I nodded barely. “I’ll k*ll him,” Kael snapped . ************************************** They were the hottest triplets at Lockhart Academy. Dangerous, untouchable, and absolutely off-limits. Until they wanted me. I used to be invisible, the overweight, wolfless Omega everyone mocked. Rejected by my longtime crush Ezra in front of the whole school, humiliated by my stepsister Peyton, and ignored by the woman who raised me, I thought things couldn’t get worse. Then Peyton signed me up for the school play just to humiliate me, and somehow, I got cast as the female lead. Opposite Ezra. I wanted to disappear. Instead, I ended up in the arms of three powerful Alpha hybrids: Kael, Talon, and Jett. They saved me when I was at my lowest and took me away as payment for a debt tied to a curse only I can break. They say my bloodline is rare. That I’m special. But all I’ve ever been told is that I’m not enough. Now I’m living in their mansion, rehearsing for a play I never wanted to be in, and trying not to fall for the three boys who swear they’ll protect me. I was supposed to be their burden. So why do they treat me like I’m theirs?

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.”*

"Sex slave? Is that what you thought?" "What else would you have dragged me here for?" I said, my voice trembling. He took a deep breath and looked me over, from head to toe, with an assessing expression that made me shrink back. "Don’t flatter yourself, female. You don’t meet the requirements to be one of my sex slaves." "Oh yeah? And what would those be?" He gave me that same smug, evaluating look again, but this time I puffed out my chest—and he seemed to notice, even if just for a second. "The first is being attractive." "What? Did you just call me ugly?" "Does it matter?" "Of course it matters! First of all, you're wrong! I’m not ugly, and I do meet all the requirements to be a sex slave!" — By the goddess, what was I saying? Marius looked at me, visibly confused, until he asked: "Why does it sound like you’re applying for the position?" Jane is an orphaned, rejected she-wolf who dreams of receiving her wolf and leaving the orphanage behind. One night, when she goes to a party with her friend, she finds herself in danger after realizing there is no party only three wolves with the worst intentions. Everything changes when the feared and cruel Marius, a wolf accused of massacring his own pack in the past, saves her. Or rather kidnaps her. Marius makes it clear: Jane will be his prisoner for one year, until she receives her wolf and can give him what he wants. But how can Jane trust a killer? And what is she supposed to do with the wild attraction they both feel, trapped together in an isolated cabin?

“You can feel it right? The burning attraction.” Giovanni whispers, trapping her by the wall. He rests his palm beside her head, lowering his head to her height. Mia swallows her spit as she automatically clasps her thighs together trying to soothe the ache down there. “No– I don't feel anything.” she says trying to sound firm, but her voice betrays her coming out in a breathy whisper. He smirks, trailing his fingers down her cheeks tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Deny all you want. You. Are. Mine!!!” he growls, slamming his lips down on hers hard. ~~~~ Mia Neomi didn't know what she dragged herself into when she innocently saved a mafia lord from death in a dark alley one night. Thinking everything was going to be fine after she woke to an empty bed, life shows her it's more fucked up than she thinks when they meet in the most uncanny way ever. The man she saved turns out to be her cold, ruthless, and merciless boss at her office, Mr Giovanni Antonio. A cold blooded killer, the Capo of the Italian Mafia. A man whose sole purpose is to ruin everything he touches. He hates her because he can't stop thinking about her while she hates him because he makes her life hell. But when the attraction overtakes the hatred. Mia soon discovers that the man she is attracted to isn't who he says he is, and the woman he is attracted to isn't who he thinks she is. Lies, secrets, and betrayal threatens to tear them apart. Will their attraction conquer it all? Or will they be consumed in the web that entangles them together? I mean is attraction even worth fighting for?

{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.” --

She lives on her own terms. He’s living on borrowed time. Neither of them planned on falling—especially not for each other. Blue has made a life out of leaving. Her summer is all dusty boots, soft sunsets, and smoky guitar covers shared with millions of followers from the back of her boho van. Portland was supposed to be a quick visit—just her best friend, a short-term gig harvesting,, and a little time to breathe.But then there’s Teddy.He’s the brooding, blue-eyed lead singer of No Name, the local grunge band with a sound that hits like a bruise and a smile that makes her forget how to breathe. He’s wild onstage and guarded off of it, carrying secrets behind that slow-burning gaze. He’s everything she never wanted: complicated, magnetic, dangerous in a way that feels too good to ignore.What starts as stolen glances and flirtation under stage lights turns into something hotter, deeper, harder to walk away from.They come from different worlds—but under the heat of a summer that feels endless, they collide in all the wrong ways that somehow feel right.And the only thing harder than falling for him… is trusting he won’t break her.

Every tear I shed feeds his ego. Every whimper, his pride. Every bruise he leaves behind, his silent claim over me. He takes me cold. Leaves me ruined. And I wait - quiet, breathless, for the next time he comes back to break me again. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hand. Thinks I’m nothing without him. A fragile wife, meek, obedient. A weakness he never needed. I let him believe it. I never tried to break the illusion. As long as I have his hands on me, As long as his shadows reach for me, That’s enough. But in the dark, daggers roam. And with every sound my heels make, they fall. He still thinks I’m glass, But he hasn’t heard me shatter.

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

“Don't! My body is a temple of the Lord!” I shivered at the sound and raid in my voice as I held his gaze. He let out a small chuckle, a smirk slowly crawling to his lips. “Your body belongs to me–” he grabbed my naked ass, forcefully pulling me to make contact with his hardened body. “I, Vermont Cardonisss, am now your Lord, little pet. Bend over!” *** It is better to be a slave to a mafia than to be a sex toy of your very own father. On this account, Grace agrees to pay the debts of her father to the sexy and brutal mafia, Vermont Cardoniss. It becomes a bloody entanglement of two incessant individuals where Vermont seems too ruthless to repent and Grace, too religious to be laid. Would it be a case of a good girl turned naughty or the redemption of a cold-blooded mafia? [Content Guidance: This book is intended for adult as it contains explicit sexual and violence scenes]

‎ ‎He was born in blood, forged in betrayal, and crowned in darkness. She was broken, discarded, and ready to disappear. But when Kane Salvatore, the demon of Beltforte Dominia, drags Castelle Quinn back from the edge, their collision sparks a war. In his arms, she finds her prayers answered—brutal salvation. At her side, he finds freedom from his curse—the peace his demons never let him taste. For Castelle her heart craves darkness, and the demon—Kane— tastes like salvation. ‎Together, they will burn the world that tried to destroy them — and rise from the ashes, king and queen of ruin. ‎ ‎The only woman he has ever craved to own and possess. The Queen of his heart that satisfies his every need. ‎ ‎"Beautiful," he murmurs. The sight of her—bent over, wrists tied, ass raised, trembling—was a masterpiece.  ‎ ‎He nudges her legs further apart, admiring the way she opens for him. She's on full display—raw, submissive, exquisite. He pinched her inner thighs, watching her squirm, feeding on her whimpers.  ‎ ‎Then, he strikes.  ‎A sharp slap directly to her swollen clit making her scream. The sound alone could make him cum.  ‎ ‎He chuckles darkly. It unsettles her—and that’s exactly the point.  ‎He grabbed the flogger, trailing its strands over her back, down to her legs. With a swift motion, I bring it down hard. The crack fills the room. Her body jolts, red lines blossoming instantly on her skin.  ‎ ‎Again on her ass. Again on her clit.  ‎She shatters.