Want a Kiss?

Morgana is a weird girl who likes Pokemon and writes smut about Merlin and Arthur having dirty dungeon sex (yes, Morgana is her real name.) But she has never had a boyfriend (I wonder why.) In this story, Morgana is faced with a sexy EMO lookin guy with fabulous blue eyes. But will she ever have a chance with him? I haven't the foggiest idea.

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1. In the tail of a Charmander

A/N: I've transferred this over from my QuoteV account, so it is based on Quotev. Quotev is basically Movella's, just more of a bloggers website.

QuoteV: http://www.quotev.com/ilovehs <<<My profile hehe

So, without further ado, Let this journey begin.

~.~.~

Want a Kiss?

Chapter 1

This is it.

It’s been 2 years since I’ve started collecting them.

Pokémon Plush toys.

Yes, that’s right, Pokémon plushes.

And now, I have the Charmander limited edition in my view. I remember the first time I played Pokémon. I was so excited, I nearly broke my brother’s gameboy. That was nearly 10 years ago. Ever since that day, I was hooked. And then when I turned 13,my grandmother bought me at least 20 plush Pokémon toys from her trip to Japan.

I never really was one to make friends where I went to school. I live in Birmingham, but I attend school at “Manchester School for the Arts.”
My Mother has a sick fantasy that I’ll be a talented dancer like Paula Abdul some day. But I have my sights set on being a voice actor for video games. That or writing scripts for video games. Or making new evolutions for up coming Pokemon games.

And I have an obsession (just like any other healthy person these days) with a website called QuoteV. It’s like a wonderland, with maniacs who want to rape Harry Styles and whatnot, and I enjoy posting my poetry for all different types of people to read.

But, let’s shut up about me and concentrate on Charmy (in which is sitting more than an arms width from me.)

His orange fur is grazing against my fingertips. “Alas, Charmander, We meet again. Remember me, we met around 2010 at Comicon. I thought it wouldn’t be as difficult to find you as it would Fennekin. But I see that little shit everywhere. And you, my precious.....I never see you these days.”

And just as my finger tips wrap around the priceless tail of my part-time lover, I’m faced with another presence. And all my happiness is ripped out in a second.

“Excuse me, I believe that’s my Charmander.” I look up and meet two sky blue eyes. I almost thought I was looking at a tall Golem, that’s how blue his eyes were. But then I’m confronted with lots of metal. A lip piercing, snake bites and an eyebrow piercing. And He probably has his nutsack pierced in six different ways. But the way his face is structured, just wow.

And boom goes the ovaries.

“I had it first. Sorry, darling.” And he is American. Not bland like us Brits. “Well, it’s mine now.” I yank the large plush from his grasp. And as I walk away, two arms wrap around me, spinning me around. “Nonono, I’ve been waiting years to get myself this toy. And I’m not letting some prissy little girl take it away from me.”

Oh my god.....his breath smells like peppermint.

It’s like he knew I was checking him out, because a cheeky little smirk found its way onto his mouth and stole my Charmy. “Hey! My Charmy!” His arm shot up into the air when I tried to yank the Charmander from his arms. “Jump, Princess!” His loud laugh filled the toy store. I but my lip in concentration whilst trying to get my darling off him.

“Awww, you’re too cute!” I felt a small blush creep up onto my cheeks. “I’m not cute! I’m 15! How old are you, 60? Do you get off from teasing younger girls with Charmys?” I growl. If his toothy smile could get bigger, it did. “Well, you’re a very matured 15 year old. And by matured, I mean, your tits jiggled heaps when you jumped for me. And, yes, I’m, 60.”

I don’t feel violated whatsoever. I get this alot, I’m a walking sex doll to most. “Whatever. I’ll grab another Charmander.” I walk over to the rack. Pancham....Pidgey.....Slobro....No Charmander. “What...nonono!” I twist around to see a very amused pervert. “Give me my Charmander or I’ll drive a stake through your coal black heart.”

Just as I finish my rant, my phone rings.

“Carry on my wayward son, there’ll be peace when you have gone, lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more”

“What do you want, Mother?”

“Oh, deary, are you at dance recital?”

“Yes, pirouetting out the window.”

“Don’t you dare critique dance like that. You’ll be like me one day, when those horrendous video games are gone.”

“Ha-Ha. Well, I really must get back to my beloved dancing, as it is my dearest pleasure.” And with that, the call is ended.

“You listen to Kansas?” The sixty year old asks, with raised eyebrows. “Yes, Pedo. I don’t listen to Katy Perry and masturbate when 1D does a twitcam.” I say with clear blandness throughout my voice. “Big tits, Kansas, Pokémon. It’s settled. You’re my new wife.” I scoff with a ladylike snort and nod my head. “I have to go. My Mother is expecting me.”

“Wait! Do you have something I could contact you by? Like Facebook or Twitter?” I must admit, that last comment took me by surprise. “Why would I like to talk to a pedophile, anyway?” He pops out a dimple for my comment. “Social network for the Charmy.”

That.
Son.
Of.
A.
Bitch!

“I have QuoteV and Tumblr. Take your pick.” I gush out, yanking the Charmander from his finger tips. “Figures. I’ll take QuoteV.”

“lonelypoet.”

And with that, I ran to the casher and paid, never looking back.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
How could I ever know he would be so much more to me than a creep who likes pokemon?

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