Catching my heart Patrick
- LECTURAS 420
- Votos 2
- Partes 17
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𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟖
Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.Concluida
Hurt •Niam•
Niall was constantly made fun of by his family, friends and piers about his weight,appearance and personality. They always claimed it was teasing or playful critic. Didn't mean it hurt any less. Niall was 11 when a blade was drag over his skin.He was smart about it,cutting when he was alone, leaving cuts over his thighs. Never did Niall get to comfortable, always wore sweatpants.The weather in England was perfect,never did he have to wear shorts. Liam is a typical high school student,got fairly good grades,his friends were nice people;idiots at times but still nice people. Niall is at the park, sitting in a tree.Looking out at the sunset,his mind going blank. Liam,a boy he only knew from math class,call out for him.Noticing the tree was old and slightly unstable.Niall jumps as he hears the voice, the tree tips slightly. "Please come down"He yells "You'll get hurt." "I already am "Niall whisper ~Written by Niamlovechildren~ *i legit made this when I was 13 so it's so cringy and emo.So stop commenting relating to the cringe because I'm over all of the things mentioned, thanks :)*Concluida
Lost in the Woods
"What in the hell?" I heard a swish noise fly past me. A fucking knife , it fucking sunk in the tree bark. I did the only thing I could do , run back to him.Concluida
Can't Do No Wrong
I heard him chuckle. "Oh. Yuh vex because mi nuh reply to yuh message?" My head snapped around so quick to look at this fool, seeing him standing there with a nonchalant look on his face. I had to mentally coach myself to swollow the 'suck yuh mada' that was on the tip of my tongue. "Fuck you."
Hell's Reign (Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Fanfiction)
It was just supposed to be a night out with friends. They were supposed to be back in the morning for school. She never thought the world would end over some boy-band's concert. ***Rated Mature for intense violence, sexual scenes, and smoking***Concluida
🇯🇲Twisted Desires.
🇯🇲!! "Mi hate yuh bredda ways an from weh me know him get all a him ways dem from you," I said as I stared up, directly in his face not missing his eyes. "Tell yuh diss...Man a man an boy a boy... nuh my fault him fuck wid yuh head," he said calmly as he shrugged a slight smirk tugging on his lips. Hissing my teeth I averted my gaze away from him and walked off. Why mi get mi sel- correction how mi get mi self mix up inna dis?. This nuh right at all...... ○●○●○●○●○●○●○ 🇯🇲 A jamaican romance story. Contains: - Violence. - Intimacy. - Toxicity. - Murder. - Mature content.
Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.
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