Hugs Pillow

My fiance, Caspian Knight, is a reputable Healer in the werewolf pack. His childhood friend, Sarah Gard, has been diagnosed with organ failure. It is fatal, and she has only one month left. To stay by her side in her final days, Caspian makes me drink the potion, and my wolf falls unconscious. During the month when my wolf is unconscious, I'll begin to forget about him completely. He doesn't know that the effect of the potion will last a lifetime, and I won't remember him for the rest of my life. Within the same month, he holds a wedding ceremony with Sarah. He hugs Sarah tightly under the falling petals. They hold each other's hands and receive blessings from everyone. A month later, he cries uncontrollably and goes down on his knees in front of me, questioning why I have yet to remember him.

My boyfriend tells me he's a monster in a game, but I think he's lying. What monster would have washboard abs and defined obliques? And what monster would keep asking me for hugs and kisses? Everything changes when I end up in a survival game one day. I'm stuck in a dark, cold ocean when the main boss of the game, a scary tentacled monster, entangles me in its grasp. When it speaks, the voice is gentle and familiar. "Kiss me, Ara."

"Now the most important rule," he paused to gain her full attention and when he was sure she was listening carefully, he added, "we do not touch, or let others touch our body except for shaking hands and friendly hugs, no matter what the case." Bella looked at him and blinked, "but you touched my ass, Lucifer." She accused him again, making him dumbfounded. Lucifer coughed, embarrassed, remembering how he was enjoying touching her and even commented that it was firm and perky. "I was asleep, Bella, I did not know." He was telling the truth. But Bella added, "but you said, in any case, Lucifer." His reason left him speechless once again. Now what should he do? If he said this was an exception, she would ask him to make a list of exceptions. He sighed, "okay, it was a mistake, Bella, I apologise." He replied sincerely, that he should not take advantage of her childlike innocence. It's alright, let me touch your ass, and we will be equal. ****** Lucifer was broke. He didn't have enough money to pay his sister's fees and buy her something for Christmas. He wanted to do something special for her this Christmas, so he took the advice of his best friend and gave his room on rent. But due to the Christmas holidays, he didn't get any applications from men to take the room. In desperation, he accepted the girl who had asked many times for the room. What he doesn't know is that the girl is a demon who ran away from the group that came to destroy the happiness of the festivities.

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.

A painter, artist, and an engineer single father named Mike living with his Mom Rose, He was been single father since Alice died in giving birth to Augustine, years later he worked as an engineer contracted three years of bridge project with his co-engineer Angel and they became close till years passed by where their project will end. Angel confesses in a letter to Mike that she likes him, and he was willing because he also likes Angel as their relationship went through, A test result came in that he has a liver cancer stage one only his Mother know this. He desired not to tell this to Angel instead he gave her a small box for the birthday with nine letters inside it but all is ten as he instructs every year on her birthday she will open one letter and if all nine will do, he will give the tenth letter which he designates the very important one. But eight years later Mike died in the eighth letter Angel had only one, The nine and it came to the point where she need to get the tenth letter but don't know. Instead she visits Mike grave as she there, un-expectedly a voice of a child calling her name as Angel turns around she saw a child amused walking to her holding the tenth letter she doesn't even know who's this child but the woman who followed back, is Mike's mother Rose as the child reach in front of her, He hand the tenth letter to her. Minutes of reading heavy tears appear and she knees down to the child and hugs him then Angel whispered "he's resting forever but no worries Augustine father is always okay promise I'm always here for you Son" And she heavily cried.

Mikey Wilson once had a fiancée and a lovely son. But an accident happened, Mikey's wife suddenly disappeared. Later when he met her again, she forgot him, even their son. Elena Hill's family had an accident, her parents were assassinated, her younger brother was injured and has not regained consciousness. The Hill family's entire property was robbed by a relative. At this moment, a man named Mikey appeared, offering a contract to tempt Elena to do something wrong. How was Elena step by step deceived by Mikey and lured into the billionaire's love trap? Why did she forget about Mikey, why was her family murdered? Let's help Elena answer! *** Mikey was motionless, his sharp eyes looking at the girl standing with her hands on her waist, red in the face, he said: - I will give you a sum of money, moreover, I will help you find out who killed your parents and make them pay. I will also take back your parents' property and company for you. Condition, just you to be my lover for a year. Well, it's not bad, is it? Elena picked up the backrest pillow of the sofa and frantically hit Mikey, hitting and scolding: - Go away, you lured me to go cuckold into your wife's head? I hate the kind of people who steal other people's husbands the most. And now you want me to do it! My life has been so pathetic so please forgive me. I don't want any more bad luck. Do you understand? Mikey snatched the pillow from Elena's hand, then he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap: - I need you to cure my illness, please help me for a year.

While exploring the wilderness, my younger sister—Charlotte Forrester—and I accidentally stumble onto the territory of supernatural beings. She grabs the hand of the noble, elegant male elf, her posture coy and intimate. Before I can react, a wolfman with a scar on his face wraps his arm around my waist and leads me away. Charlotte, who judges others by appearance, is unaware that the male elf—Elwin Duskwood—belongs to a tribe of half-elves. Half-elves are beautiful but possess no real capabilities. They are considered a marginalized group among elves and struggle to make ends meet every day. On the other hand, the wolfman—Morgan Nightshade—is a mid-tier wolf tribe's Highlord. After giving birth to an extremely rare silver wolf for him, I have become the Highlady of the tribe. I'm respected by everyone in the tribe and feast on delicacies every day. Meanwhile, Charlotte becomes emaciated after suffering from starvation for several months. When she sees how plump I am, she goes insane from jealousy. While the wolf tribe is entertaining guests at a banquet, she uses poison to kill me. The next time I open my eyes, Charlotte and I are back at the moment we first entered the supernatural beings' territory by mistake. Charlotte immediately hugs Morgan by the waist and kisses him. She showers him with flattery about his strength, calling him the man of her dreams. I can't help but laugh out loud. Silly Charlotte. As a wolfman, Morgan is ill-tempered, and he easily loses control of his emotions. He also becomes even more bloodthirsty after transforming. It's not all sunshine and rainbows being his mate.

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

This is a sexy and dark retelling of Beauty and the Beast where the beauty is a shy and sweet twenty-one year old girl and the beast is a twisted, psychotic, arrogant and cunning vampire. ****"C-can you p-please be gentle?" She meekly stuttered out between tears and hiccups. Her gaze still attached to the ceiling. Seconds passed. She could feel her cheeks heat up even after uttering that small request. What it implied. She'd never had sex before. She hadn't even seen a naked male before, in her entire life. She didn't know what to expect. But she definitely knew that it was going to hurt. The girls from her high-school had warned her of that. That it was going to hurt really bad at first. And that it wasn't actually that pleasant either. She startled at the sudden sound of his masculine chuckle. Her head instinctually turned to look at him before she could even try and stop herself. She watched him turn to lie on his side, his elbow digging into the soft pillow as he held his head in his hand. A sly smirk displaying on his beautifully-carved features. "And why would I do that?" He rose one brow. She immediately felt her cheeks burn even hotter. "B-because I asked you nicely," she bit her lip. Her hands were still tightly holding onto that duvet, keeping it at chin level. His gaze momentarily dropped to her mouth, taking notice of that small action. "A-and because I'm scared. I haven't done this before. Any of this," she truthfully admitted after a moment, her gaze lowering as she couldn't help but feel so embarrassed. About all of it. What she'd just told him, their current position. All of it. "You mean the sucking or the fucking part?"***

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.”*