Story cover for Married to the Beast (MxB) by DrizzleDew
Married to the Beast (MxB)
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  • WpView
    Reads 3,849
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    Votes 123
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 20m
Ongoing, First published Oct 22, 2019
Mature
"Tell me...", he asked with voice laced with nothing but disappointment and anger .



"Tell me.. who is the real MONSTER here?", he repeated as he lifted my chin making me flinch .

"Is it me or is it you?", he whispered and I could no longer contain the tears of shame and guilt as they tumbled down my cheeks .
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"I think I'm gay." I say, leaving out the part about my... exposing dream about him last night. I watched his expression, waiting for some sign that he was angry. I waited for him to call me a faggot, to curse me off and tell me he never wanted to see me again. Instead, I was greeted with his perfect toothy smile. "That's great man, I'm of proud you." He says, patting my arm as he stuffed another cracker in his mouth. "It takes some real balls to come out to someone." He says, his beautiful green eyes blazing into mine. I felt myself become flustered at his gaze. "Uh, Yeah, Thanks." I stumbled out, "You're not mad?" I ask. His expression turns to hurt as he crinkles his eyebrows. "Why the hell would I be mad?" He asks, hesitating on the crackers and pushing them away. "I just thought-it's just- well... you just always seem so pissed when someone mentions the word gay." I spit out words, scared for his reaction. He sighs, "That doesn't fucking mean I hate gays. Normally when I do that it's because someone's using the word 'gay' to hate on them, it just pisses me off, you know?" He asks, bringing the crackers back into his lap and biting into them. "Plus-" He adds on, "You're my best friend, if anything, you being gay is a blessing. I'll always support you." He says, glancing at me through the side of his eyes. I look away, towards the door to hide the crimson blush that I feel spread over my face. "Thanks." I all but squeak out. And that's the day I realized, I have a faint crush on my best friend. <><><><><< THIS BOOK IS BEING *MAJORLY* EDITED. THERES LOTS OF SPELLING MISTAKES AND NAME MIX UPS, SOME CHAPTERS WILL BE REWRITTEN Also, Please don't be mean to the characters, they aren't even close to perfect, but they don't deserve hate.
The Art Class (MXM) by Christinagug
38 parts Ongoing Mature
Alex, a new student at Breakworth College studying art, struggles with being on time for class. With a lack of friends and no social groups, he finds himself alone and helpless. One encounter after another with Zack, he finds himself debating whether or not Zack is really homophobic and a downright asshole or is trying to hide something about himself; only time will tell. --- I had two options: Say yes or make this situation worse for myself, Deciding on option two, "Zack, you're acting pretty gay for someone who's homophobic," I said slyly. I knew this could only cause him to get angrier, but I knew it was true he was the one who called me a "fag" not even a week ago. "I'm not gay, unlike you; I just know how to get things I want, and you caught my eye. Being my friend is a blessing. You should take the offer," He said, still against my neck. "Aren't you cocky," I replied, trying to stand my ground. Gripping tighter on my waist, he hummed against my ear once again. "I'm getting impatient, Alex. Cut the crap. Say yes already so we can put this past us. I already know I can get you to say Yes," and in a barely audible voice, I heard him say, "I know your weakness". "Now, what weakness could that be-" I didn't even get to finish my sentence before a set of teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of my neck, sending an unexpected wave of pleasure through me. "W-wait, not there. Fine, fine. I'll be your friend. Just stop that shit." Zack paused, his breath hot against my skin as he chuckled. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" His tone was dripping with satisfaction, revelling in his perceived victory. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto mine with a predatory glint. I tried to steady my breathing, my pulse racing from the conflicting sensations. "What is wrong with you?" I muttered, more to myself than to him. The fear and arousal mingled in a way that left me feeling disoriented and vulnerable.
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