The Boys Comic Novels & Stories

What can I say, I guess I just love having a large pole in my hand. “Stop it! Give that back!” I hear an agitated voice shout. I look over to see a group of three 16-year-old-looking boys playing keep away with another boy's sketchbook. “Aww whatcha gonna do? Cry to your human mummy?” the tallest boy taunts. Another kid snorts, “What a loser, what kind of sirna can’t even morph?”

the cutting boy said as a large magical seal appeared in front of him and shot lots of slash marks towards the bees. "They are too much!" The cutting boy said as he stopped his attacks and continued running. "Oh, did you just realize that mister hotshot!" The shiny boy replied. "Fine your attack wasn't pathetic, happy now!" The cutting boy said. "Yes, yes I am" the shiny boy replied. "Well that isn't necessary if we are all going to die!" The other boy said. "Hey parasite, why don't you shut your mouth and be useful for once!" The cutting boy replied.

For what Kael had done to Nyx. The boys shared a smirk, some even had a malicious smile on their faces instead. I was breathing hard now. Slowly faces warped in my vision until every jawline, every sneer looked like Nyx. I wanted to tell these boys that I had nothing to do with Nyx’s injuries but I don’t think they had the intention of dialogue. As the boys started to circle around me like prey, my throat closed and my chest locked. Goosebumps covered my skin in an instant when one of them pretended to attack and I flinched horribly.

“Do you understand me?” I nodded, and he smirked again, this time his hands slipping into my hair to ruffle it. “Good boy.” His voice was a deep rumble that made a pulse run in between my legs. Yup, coming to an all-boys school was a mistake, I realized the only enemy I have are my raving ovaries. Christian then sent a playful glare at Xavier before waltzing off.

I bumped into something hard wall or maybe someone’s chest and before I understood what happened, I fell onto the cold floor with a painful thud. “Ow,” I hissed, rubbing my sore tailbone. When I looked up, six boys stood around me. They looked confused and amused. But the boy I’d bumped into stood out. His piercing blue eyes glared sharply at me. His whole face looked angry, but somehow I couldn’t look away. He looked like one of the guys in magazines — dark hair curling down to his forehead, muscular, with a slight slimness. In fact, all six boys had almost the same build. I couldn’t have picked one over the rest if I tried.

The four boys who used to trail after me had turned into this. Silently, I gave each of them a zero. Guys like that weren't worthy of carrying my shoes. I was about to close the stream for good when new comments popped up— [Why are four guys circling her? She trying to collect the whole set?] [Are you dumb? That's Chloe. The Blanchet heiress!] [They grew up with her. Swore if they couldn't marry her, they'd protect her forever!] Chloe? Blanchet heiress?

Epilogue 10 years later "For the love of god can these girls please knock their shit off," I complained to Colt. He started laughing. I was so much better with Krews team. With the boys there was no bullshit. If there was a problem, they swung their fist a few times and then they were over it, but these girls talked more shit to each other and then cried about it. They stole each other's boyfriends. I mean they were only ten, but they were brutal.

the ten-year-old girl said. "Who said that? I’ll punch him straight in the dick!" he joked. "They did," she said, picking up her book. She stood up and went to her room. "Hey, we can watch another movie!" Gray called out. The two boys also stood up, picked up their books, and left. Gray was puzzled, but the remaining boy suggested another movie. They watched another cartoon, one where every scene had a deep meaning. It was dreamy; Gray liked cartoons that weren't just for children.

The reminder made Elena’s chest tighten again, the brief moment of humor evaporating into the humid hallway air. “Girl, thats wild,” Jojo whispered. Elena clutched her textbook tighter against her ribs. Jojo was right. The schedule on her phone was neat and perfect, with its pretty little colored squares, but the boys weren't shapes on a screen. They were real, they were volatile, and they were entirely too close to each other.

is how intoxicating the fire can be or how it doesn't come at you like a roaring blaze. No. It flickers in shadows, finds you in your loneliness, boredom, and hunger to feel something real. It curls around your ankles like smoke under a locked door. And by the time you realize the room is on fire, it's too late. Boys like him don't storm in and tear down walls. They don't announce themselves with alarms or warnings. They slide into your DMs around 2:07 a.m. with something borderline stupid enough to make you roll your eyes. You should ignore it and go to bed.