Goth From Boyfriends Novels & Stories

His face really had no clue of what I was thinking about. “Well, I made these friends, one of which turned out to be a dick, one who is a werewolf but I haven’t seen yet, and two who have no clue about any of this world, one of whom is probably still in love with me,” I rolled my eyes, “and I disappear for two weeks with a man I barely knew, and come home with these marks. How am I supposed to explain the dynamics at play with my three boyfriends, who are also brothers, cause that’s not extreme or anything.”

Crimson tried coaxing me before snaking his arm around my shoulder. "Tsk. But let me tell you, Crim. You shouldn't be walking around here and telling everybody that we're boyfriends." I said and he just shrugged before chuckling. "People might actually believe you." I added. "So what? It's actually true. The four of us were boyfriends, aren't we? Boys that are friends with each other. It's their fault if they had misinterpreted what I said." He jested and Heather and Royce shook their heads cause it's obvious that we can't do anything about Crim's mischievousness.

she tells me very kindly. "Okay, but if he doesn't want to, you can't force him, he's your boyfriend" I tell him a bit shyly, he's my best friend, and she's a witch, but her boyfriend is a vampire, and as if that weren't enough He is the son of a gangster, not even his father knows that he is dating a witch...

Since then, we'd lived with Chester's mother, Frida Sherman. While I didn't exactly have a good relationship with Frida, my busy work schedule had helped keep our interactions minimal. I always thought of it as a blessing in disguise. That continued until recently when Frida found herself a boyfriend, Bryson Ewing, and brought him home. Her son was already married, and she herself had been widowed for years. Considering her age, one would expect her new boyfriend to be someone of a similar standing. Yet, she defied expectations by dating a man ten years younger than her.

“I’m not sad.” “You’ve been staring at that same sweater for ten minutes.” I looked down at my hands. I was holding the gray hoodie—Ethan’s hoodie, the one I’d never been able to throw away. “Old boyfriend,” I said quietly. Chloe didn’t pry. She just nodded and said, “I have one of those too. His name was Mark. He told me he loved me and then kissed my best friend at prom.” I blinked. “Seriously?” “Seriously.” She shrugged, but her eyes were soft. “It gets easier. Not all at once. But eventually.”

Frederick reincorporated immediately and lunged over him again, taking him by the lapels of his shirt, and screamed at him with an animal potency that silenced the engines of the plane completely: "HE IS NOT MY GODDAMN STEPBROTHER, YOU GODDAMN PIECE-OF-SHIT MORON!! HE IS MY GODDAMN BOYFRIEND! HE BELONGS TO ME AND ONLY TO ME...!!". Before that atrocious shout, I was left completely stunned in the middle of the aisle, with my hands frozen in the air and my breathing stopping completely in my chest. Boyfriend? Since when the fuck were we boyfriends?!

Tried for them apparently, but it never happened. "I'm turning 31 years old and I have no boyfriend. No fuckboy. No male gay best friend who might also want children but doesn't have a partner. Not even a boy that's a friend. I'm not even a piece of hot ass for someone to use and abuse." I huffed. "Life is depressing."

June already laughed her ass off and Madison and Sarah were holding their laughter. "Explain what girlfriend?" I smiled like an idiot and laughed. "Awww you're so cute, boyfriend.” "I'm not cute.” "Last night you admitted that you're cute.” "That's not me." He denied. Luke Hastington is official my boyfriend. Am I dreaming?

I looked at Elliot and felt my heart fall to my stomach. He had forgotten that it was my birthday today too. Celeste and I were born on the same day. However, our lives were wildly different. She lived at the top of society, while I was like the mud under someone’s boot. Elliot immediately ordered the bodyguards to apprehend me. He tossed an army knife before me. His next words were nearly emotionless. “You must bleed even more than Celeste has.”

He smelled like the gym and anger. "Tomorrow is the fitting," Marcus started. He tapped his pen on the desk. Tap. Tap. Tap. "The world thinks you two are siblings now. The 'Pure Angel' and the 'Reformed Son.' That is the story. If anyone asks about the past, what do you say?" "We say we were kids," I said. My voice was flat. "We say it was a summer crush that turned into a friendship." "Wrong," Marcus snapped. "You don't use the word 'crush.' You don't use the word 'summer.' You say, 'We’ve always felt like family.' You say, 'Roman has been a rock for me during my rise to fame.'"