Josephine_Ivy1

It was supposed to be a simple, innocent hug of a boy offering comfort to his distressed best friend. But somehow, I found myself astride Ash’s thighs, with his arms firmly wrapped around my body and his face squished against the curve of my bare shoulder. I could feel the moment he started to nose at the expanse of my throat, it had only taken a tiny brush of his nose against my skin to make me tremble against him and I instinctively tightened my hold around his broad shoulders as a small whimper slipped out before I could think. 

It must have been a mistake, I said to myself, but then he did it again, and again– his hot breaths fanning against my sensitive scent gland along with each firmer drags of his nose.

_____


   Andy Draco is a gay, nineteen year old Omega with a little bit of warlock magic in him, who can't seem to choose between friendship and lust.

Andy is best friend and roommate to Alpha Ashton who is straight or at least believes he is. One moment of heat blinded by lust leads to a night that couldn't be erased from both their lives.

With their friendship at stake and Andy's sudden unleashed powers and never before seen enemies, will Ashton come to realize his feelings or will he let the most important person in his life leave his life and the world?

Burning Heat

Catie lied to us that the dead body there wasn't father even though we could clearly see that it was him. Maybe she did that lie for Fred who was confused and crying because he was supposed to be sleeping. I was 11years at that time, but I knew it was my father. I didn't know if I was supposed to cry or we were playing dead like father usuallyplayed a lot with us.

When I barely learnt to walk, I was always about being with my father. I wanted to hold his hand, sit on his leg, and sit on his stomach. Mother used totell me when I grew older that I behaved just like my father. She would smile at me rubbing my hair backwards.

"Why?" I would ask playing with the hem of her dress, when I grew older I wanted to be with my mother. I wanted to hold her and play with her, because she was warm and beautiful. Or maybe I felt this way because father was not here anymore.

"You still imitate him even if he is not here. I guess you don't remember that."

John Anderson