1k Oneshots

She

[She's in love with a guy who doesn't know her and keeps fogging in and out of thinking about him during the day]

Word Count: 1035

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His hand trailed down her chest, stopping at the dent between her bosom. There was a hitch in her breath as his hand trailed lightly further down, his fingertips bracing against her skin. She let out a noise as his other hand grasped at her cheek, caressing it gently.

He worshiped her greatly.

She was his.

He was hers.

She threw her head back as his hand fell to where she was warm, grabbing at everything all at once, pushing against her and heating her, rubbing against her until she exploded.

She sat up, her head hitting the top bunk of the bed she had been lying in, causing her to curse lightly. She looked around, she was still in the same cabin she had fallen asleep in.

She cursed again. It was just a dream about Mark. A dream she'd been having for the past few weeks at camp.

Thinking about the blonde had always done something to her, but with the development of her body over the summer, her brain wired into that sixteen-year-old heat, he was slowly becoming all she could think properly about. And it wasn't proper.

She laughed at herself and felt the person above her shrink in their sleep. She lay back down, looking out the window of the cabin she was staying in. In the middle of nowhere, her school had decided to go on a vacation for the juniors. Someone far away and out of the mind of anyone important.

She groaned and flipped over onto her stomach. Tonight was going to be long.

Mark groaned, his blonde hair ruffled atop his head and his shirt against the floor. His toned body is harsh against the shimmering light of the pool, reflecting against her own body, bare in the moonlight.

His hands pushed against her, his fingers reached inside her, and she couldn't help but sound her voice of reason.

Her head hit the top bunk and she groaned, looking out the window into the sunlight as her eyes slowly opened.

It was the morning, and her cabin mates were already outside. They must have let her sleep in.

Stepping outside was a mistake, her pale skin stark against the green grass and the other girls, with their pretty tan lines and beautiful features, she stood out like a slight sore thumb.

In the crowd of people in front of her stood Mark, with his bleached blonde hair flowing in the wind. He stood there, stagnant against the steps into the boys cabin. His shoulders grasped against the edges of the wall. 

She leaned against the nearest tree, watching him.

His breath sauntered over her neck, leaving a lewd whisper against her skin, sending a sharp cut of shivers down her spine. She gasped, leaning back against the bed, her back floating upwards at the touch. She shivered.

Her head lolled around lightly, her body morphing into an entirely different being.

Her head banged against her desk, her eyes snapping up in her Chemistry instruction at the back of the camp. Mrs. Weidmeir rolled her eyes but didn't say a word.

The instruction passed easily and not much happened, but then she had her time in the gymnasium, where tall walls spoke lewdly, with sweaty, streak-ran bodies and hushed voices of her peers surrounding her. They were all in there, all the juniors. 

Her hands were traveling down her legs, stretching quickly for their warm-up run, when in walked Mark. Ten minutes late to the required attendance, the blonde sauntered over to where everyone was stretching and proceeded to join them silently, eyes watching him but paying him no mind as most every gym class back in the school building this occurs. 

But the day seemed to finally begin once he showed up, as it does every day to her.

Mark stopped short, watching as her hands traveled around her body easily, rubbing against her soft skin and pushing against her veins as she stretched. His body copied her movements, except his eyes stared against her.

His hands traveled around his own body as his eyes sauntered around the room, watching for peering eyes before he walked closer to her. No words were shared, only a slow movement of their bodies as they walked out of the gymnasium at school and into the bathroom outside of the classroom.

She got pushed against the door as he locked a stall, his hands hovering above her body, hardly touching her.

She blinked and huffed, laughing at her thoughts as she continued to run, getting sidetracked by every moving thing as her mind refused to stay in one place, traveling to Mark, to Mark, to Mark, to Mark, over and over and over and over again. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, gym was over and Mark never looked at her once; she would know, she had been staring at him lewdly; psychotically. 

Her feet traveled south, walking closer to the front entrance as she began to walk out of the seating area, but she was immediately stopped by a hand holding the backside of her tank top.

"Who are you?" A very familiar voice asked her.

She turned around and gasped, her eyes widening in shock before she felt her knees wanting to buckle. She giggled at herself, getting an eyebrow raised from Mark, who let go of her and cocked his cute head.

"I'm me," she said, simply.

"You know me, right? You look so familiar."

She nodded. "You've looked familiar for a while," she said, honestly. And he did, she had been imagining him for a few months, ever since he first came to her high school. "Your name's Mark, right?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. 

"Nice to meet you," she stuck out her hand but he didn't shake it, he wrung an arm around her shoulders and smirked, squeezing her close to him. 

The touch was supposed to weird her out, make her feel all wrong and different for being treated like this by a stranger, but she didn't jump or anything, after so long of dreaming about him touching her, he was finally doing it, and it felt right. She didn't say anything, which had to have confused him even more.

He laughed. "You're quite open, huh?"

"For you," she flirted.

He smiled brightly and suddenly everything in her little dirty world made sense.