Heartstopper Pillow Fort Novels & Stories

She told Adrian to get into her room immediately. After Adrian was in the dorm room, Alexis immediately closed the door again there. When Alexis turned around, she saw Adrian who was already lying on the bed and tightly hugging the pillow shaped like a cartoon frog character belonging to Alexis. Alexis shook her head in amusement. "Tell me, you seem to really like my frog pillow in there." said Alexis as she took off the cardigan she was wearing. Adrian looked at Alexis. “Em hm… it so comfortable to be hugged like this. I don't have many modern items like this in the castle.” Adrian answered as he changed his position to sit and leaned against the head of the bed there.

He didn’t move as I climbed onto the bed. Placing as many pillows as I could find together, I built a pillow fort. “What are you doing?” he asked. I smiled proudly at my creation. “Creating some boundaries.” He chuckled, low and dangerous, then with one hand, sent the pillows flying. “Hey!” I yelped as he pulled me into his arms. “Shut up and sleep.” I struggled, but his arms were like iron bars. “Damien—” “Three months, remember?” I sighed, glaring at the ceiling. His heartbeat thudded steady under my cheek. Warm.

My bed was always warm because I kept the thermostat set two degrees higher than Damien preferred, a small rebellion he'd never noticed, and because of the heated body pillow I'd purchased seven months into our marriage on a particularly bleak Tuesday afternoon. The pillow had been an extravagance. Two hundred and forty dollars that I'd put on my own card, not his, because spending his money on something that existed purely to compensate for his absence had felt like a line I didn't want to cross. It was large and firm and maintained a precise temperature that I had, with some private embarrassment, come to think of as approximately correct. Not quite right. But close enough that I could sle

Zoe had set up a sleeping frame for Vix, the one that the hospital had recommended, and she’d also bought several huge pillows. Ice found an oversized t-shirt, one with a wide neck that got over the brace without catching on it, and limb by limb, he worked Vix’s body into the soft material.

I was not able to finish. "Handsome, sexy, hot, panti melting” I grabbed a pillow from the sunbed and chuckled it at him. He dodged it with ease, laughing. "Alright, fine, fine. I will stop." He said when I was about to throw another pillow at him again . I put the pillow back on the bed.

Zara said, breathily. I took the pillow -- a sad, floppy, lime green thing whose filling had fled long ago -- and dropped it on the ground. I fluffed the pillow as best I could, then lay down on top of it. I adjusted myself till I had my genitals in what seemed like the right place.

I tightened my silk robe around me and walked toward the door. "Vivian Carter, open the door." It was that pest, Dominic Blackwood! Just as I was about to turn away, his teasing voice called out from outside, "You left something in my car. I thought about it, and since I can’t use it, I brought it back for you." I snapped back, "What is it?" "A fertility pillow that your mother-in-law specially prepared for you." "…" With a thud, he tossed the pillow over the door, landing it right at my feet.

As if he can read my mind, he waves the white flag and surrenders, "Fine, can I borrow OUR shirt?" "Hihi yes." I grin and finally lie down, putting a pillow in between us to draw an obvious line as to remind him not to enter my area. I like having my own space when I sleep, because I love surrounding myself with pillows. It feels like being hugged by cool, giant arms. "I'm not sleepy yet,” he sighs before removing the pillow fort and lies right next to me, hand caressing my hair down to the end, clearly not going to sleep anytime soon.

I can hear the waves crash in the distance and the chatter of some of the tourists who are still milling about by this time. I swing my legs off the couch and stand. “Fine.” He looks over at me, one brow raised. “Fine?” “I’ll sleep on the bed.” He blinks, surprised. “But we’re building a pillow wall. And nothing gets past it.” “Understood,” he says dryly. We spend the next few minutes grabbing all the pillows in the room and arranging them down the middle of the bed like we're building a fortress for protection. I crawl under the sheets on one side, and he gets in on the other.

The question hung in the air between us, weighted with implications that neither of us wanted to voice. "We can put a pillow in between us," I offered, moving one of the throw pillows at the head of the bed to my side. The pillow was smaller than the others, covered in the same navy fabric as his towels, and it felt substantial enough to create a proper barrier. My fingers brushed against the soft cotton as I positioned it carefully down the center of the bed.