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keikikait · 8 months ago

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ʀᴇʙᴇʟ ꜱᴜɴ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part three. for part two, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.5k

summary: rafe brings you breakfast and problems arise

warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, manipulation. use of the word 'bitch'. rafe is trying but he's still a freak, mention of drugs

a note: i'm so pissed about episode 10 btw

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Two hundred and eighty-nine days.

You’ve been going through something.

It’s been 289 days since Rafe decided to keep you, to hide you away in his room like a little doll, to keep you on his shelf just for his eyes only. You were so resistant at first, always crying and squirming while he tied you to his bed, always trying to fight back. He tried everything he could think of to calm you down; asking nicely, trying to hold you, pinning you down and covering your mouth. The only thing that ever worked was cocaine, holding you down and rubbing it all over your gums. You were his little druggie, and he was smitten. For a while.

For the past few weeks, Rafe has been slowly trying to ween you off of it. You were getting too addicted, too addicted to something that wasn’t him. As much as he loved you, he didn’t like wasting his cocaine on you just to get you to calm down. He wanted things to be different. He wanted you to enjoy being with him in his big, beautiful house in Figure 8, a far cry from your modest childhood home in The Cut. He didn’t want to hold you here anymore, against your will, he wanted you to willingly be his. Rafe was a strong, powerful, handsome, rich man. Why were you resisting? Is he not good enough for you? Is there something wrong with him? Is he not what you want, what you need?

The cold metal of the handcuffs bite at your skin as you squirm, tied up to the headboard. Although you spent most of your time tied up on your side of the bed, he moved you around a lot; keeping you on the floor underneath his desk as he worked, leaving you on the bathroom floor after you’ve been particularly resistant, and even keeping you under his bed when the police first came knocking after you “disappeared”. People were looking for you, JJ and John B especially, but they would never find you. Rafe would make sure of it.

He let you up once, watching you with a sharp eye as you padded around his bedroom, stretching your legs out, your arms still bound. You spent your limited time standing in front of the window, looking outside, daydreaming about the day you finally get to go home. You were only free for 10 minutes before Rafe got nervous, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, squishing you with his body weight as you squirmed and wiggled.

Sunlight pours in through the windows, the curtains moving slowly with the fresh spring air. You haven’t been outside since last September, and now as July creeps up, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get out of Rafe’s room. The last 289 days have all felt like a blur, one second it was Halloween, the next second it's Christmas and Rafe is opening your gift for you as you sob, scream, and beg him for mercy. His present to you was a gold necklace spelling out Rafe, as well as a matching gold ring. You screamed and cried and tried to bite him as he put the necklace on, but it didn’t deter Rafe. He jotted all of your misbehaviour down to withdrawals, and he would pack you full of drugs to keep you pliant, satiated, and quiet. He’s never been more happy to not have neighbours.

His punishment was enough to convince you to keep the necklace on. You spent two days locked in the bathroom, stuck in the bathtub, arms and legs tied behind your back. You sobbed when you saw him, mostly out of relief, and you screamed and begged for him to forgive you. He thought you looked so cute like that, your eyes red, tears streaming down your cheeks, and he forgave you very easily.

The door softly opens as Rafe steps through, carrying a TV tray packed full of breakfast. Rafe wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying to learn, just for you. After all, he couldn’t hire a private chef if his unwilling girlfriend was tied up upstairs. He smiles at you, carrying the tray over and setting it down on his side of the bed, smoothing down the duvet. “Mornin’, angel. You hungry?”

“Fuck off.” You say, shooting him a glare before looking away from him.

Oh, he hates when you do this. When you glare at him like he’s the worst person alive. When you keep silent, refusing to even look at him. It drives him crazy. Why doesn’t his angel love him, why doesn’t his angel want him? What is he doing wrong? He sighs, giving you a disapproving look. “That wasn’t very polite, angel, and I was trying to do something nice for you.” He takes a seat on the bed, grabbing the tray and setting it in between the two of you.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, although it’s a lie. You rejected his lunch and dinner offerings the night before, and the French toast in front of you smelled so fucking good.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Now, don’t lie to me, baby. I know you’re hungry. I know you’ve been starving yourself, tryna prove you’re all big and strong, but I’m not gonna let you do that.” He pushes the tray closer to you. “Aren’t you tired of being all stubborn and difficult? I just want to take care of you.”

“I want to go home, Rafe.” You say.

“You are home, baby.” He says, his eyes hard, although there was some hurt behind his tone. He hated your constant cries to go home, hated hearing you ask for the outside world when all he wanted was to keep you here, to keep you safe and to keep you his. “Why do you want to leave so badly? You’ll be safer here, you don’t have to worry about anything ever again.” In Rafe’s eyes, he saved you, and he wanted you to save your soul for the devil in him.

“You can’t just kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it!” You say, your voice wavering as you start to cry again. “I won’t cling to you like some love-blind addict.”

His eyes soften a little when you cry, his heart beating a little bit faster at the look on your face. God, he just wanted you to love him. He didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, why he couldn’t just force you like he normally would. He bites his tongue, trying not to say anything too harsh. “I don’t want you to cling to me like some love-blind addict. I want you to love me because you want to, not because you have to.”

“You can’t kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it.” You say again.

“Well, I have, and you’re still here, aren’t you?” He says, his jaw tight, trying to keep himself calm. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, but you’re still not happy. What else do you want from me, angel?”

“I just want to go home!” You say, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

He scoffs, his words coming out harsh and fast. He’s starting to get annoyed with your attitude. “You are home, you selfish little brat. I’m trying to keep you safe, all I do is try to protect you, and you keep acting like this, like I’m the bad guy!” Rafe scoots closer to you on the bed, putting the TV tray closer to your legs. “Now, you’re going to eat your breakfast like a good little bitch, and then you’re going to thank me after. Are we clear?”

You hesitate, sniffling as the tears travel down your cheeks onto your neck. He sighs watching you cry. God, he hated seeing you cry. He hated how desperate you looked, how beautiful you looked. He was just trying to keep you safe and happy, trying to keep you his. He reaches up towards you, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question, angel. Are. We. Clear?”

You nod. You were starving, and Rafe was even nice enough to bring you your favourite coffee. You should just say yes and try to get on his good side. “Yeah. We’re clear.”

Rafe’s eyes soften when you agree, finally giving in. He liked it when you listened to him, when you were calm and sweet and obedient. He brushes under your eyes with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears. He doesn’t miss how beautiful you look when you cry. “Good girl.” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. You always look your prettiest when you’re obedient.

You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. Shame is sharp, and your skin gives in so easily.

He uncuffs your ankles, letting you sit up and get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be. Your arms were still being painfully yanked, tied up onto the headboard, but at least you weren’t laying down anymore. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and eat your breakfast?” He asks, glancing down at the food.

You nod, trying to get more comfortable. He watches as you shift and squirm, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated that you were still tied up. He hated having you like this. He wanted you to be free, to walk around, to be able to do what you want to do, but he didn’t trust you not to run away yet. He didn’t want to keep you tied up forever. Rafe sighs, taking the mug of coffee and handing it to you. “Here, baby, drink some coffee first.”

You carefully take a sip, trying to not burn your mouth. He smiles a little, watching you sip on your coffee happily. You’re doing so good so far this morning. Not so much crying, no screaming, no begging, just a little hiccup in the beginning. He liked this; liked seeing you docile and quiet. “Good?” He asks, tilting his head at you.

You nod, licking your lips. You were a bit surprised that Rafe remembered your coffee order. “Yeah. Really good. Thank you.”

He’s a bit shocked when you thank him, his heart hammering a little bit faster and his chest warming. “Yeah? You’re welcome, angel,” He feels himself smile, his hand twitching a little, wanting to reach out and caress your cheek, touch your hair. He forces himself to stay where he is. You take another sip of the coffee. He continues to watch you, feeling his chest warm again. He was always a bit thrown off whenever you thanked him, because it didn’t happen often. That was his fault, he knew that. He was always taking you against your will, having to force you into things. “Keep drinking your coffee, baby.” He says softly, wanting to keep you calm and quiet.

You finish the coffee and Rafe sets the mug aside on your bedside table. He shifts around, sitting cross-legged as he cuts up a piece of French toast. Your mouth waters as you sit up straighter. “Did you use the--”

“The brown sugar maple syrup?” He smirks. “Yes, angel, I did,” He stabs a piece with the fork before bringing it up to your mouth, one hand cupped underneath to catch any crumbs. “Say ahh.”

You eagerly open your mouth, closing your lips around the fork and pulling the piece into your mouth. It’s delicious, and you lean your head back against the headboard as you chew, eyes closed.

He feels his heart skip a beat when you lean your head back. God, you looked so perfect. So goddamn pretty. He could stare at you forever. “Good?” He asks, his gaze lingering on your throat as you swallow. He wanted to bite you, mark you up as his. But he had to be patient. You didn’t fully trust him yet, and he was eager to break you.

You nod, opening your eyes. “Really good.”

He smiles, leaning forward and wiping a little maple syrup off your lips. He lets his hand linger on your face, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss you, but he didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want to ruin how good you were being. “Good. I’m glad you like it, angel,” He moves his attention to the small ramekin of fruit, stabbing a couple pieces. “Alright. This one next.”

You accept the fruit, eyeing up the rest of the TV tray. You swallow, shifting again. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Rafe.”

He knows he didn’t have to. He knows that he could’ve just given you shitty breakfast sausages and an apple and called it a day, but he wanted to make you feel good, wanted to make you trust him more. He hated that the only time you were sweet and quiet was when you were hopped up on drugs. He wanted you sweet and quiet without the drugs, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you. “I know I didn’t have to, angel. I just wanted to.”

You eat some more of the fruit. “Well… thank you.”

He feels himself smile again, your quiet gratitude still throwing him a bit off kilter. Why did you have to be so goddamn cute, making him feel all soft? He could imagine what it would be like if you were willingly with him, letting him dote on you the way he wanted. He would cook you food every morning, give you gifts, hold you in his arms every night. It would be so perfect, if only you would just be a good girl and submit. “You’re welcome, baby.”

You finish the rest of your breakfast in silence, leaning into his hand as he wipes your mouth for you. You shouldn’t be doing this, willing leaning towards your stalker, but… you can’t deny how nice it feels for him to be kind to you. For him to not be screaming at you, holding you down while you cry, drugging you into submission. But if you wanted to get out, you had to play the long game. You had to get him to trust you enough so he would uncuff you, and then you had to wait for the perfect opportunity to run.

He watches you finish your breakfast, watching you lean into his hand when he wiped your mouth. His gaze lingered on your lips for as long as he could manage, feeling himself want to kiss you. You were doing so good, you were sitting so pretty and being so sweet and quiet. He wanted you like this all the time, wanted you to be his good little girl and obey him all the time. But he knew it would take time, it would take weeks to break you.

Rafe piles the dishes high on the TV tray, setting it aside. You lick your lips, shifting on the bed again. Your arms were killing you, pulled tight behind your back, your shoulders aching. Maybe if you were good, he would uncuff you. You take a deep breath before speaking, “Any plans today?”

He notices your discomfort right away, but he didn’t want to risk untying you when you could run away. But you had been so good this morning, he would hate to ruin it. He glances over at you before standing, the TV tray balancing in his hands. “I have a few meetings with my attorney today, but other than that, I was gonna hang around here.”

You nod. This might be harder than you thought. “Attorney?”

“Yeah,” He tilts his head at you, watching you for a moment. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he couldn’t exactly have his attorney come over and risk spotting you. “I’ve got some stuff… going on with my dad’s estate and life insurance stuff. I’ve got to talk to the attorney about legal stuff.”

Oh. Right. You remember the day Ward died, how the entire island seemed to come to a screeching halt, rumours starting to spread of the Kook Prince’s breakdown. You had felt bad for him back then, back before he kidnapped you. Now, you didn’t feel as bad, but you needed to lie your way into getting out of his stupid house. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s not your fault. Kinda glad that fucker is gone anyway.” He sighs, picking the TV tray up and standing. “I’ll be out for a few hours, though. Appointments at 3:30.”

You nod, watching as he heads out of the bedroom, stomping down the stairs. You let out a shaky breath. Rafe’s nice guy act was just that, an act, as fake as the lifestyle he lives and the image he portrays. You were being punished, by Rafe and the universe, punished for being stupid and naive enough to think that you were special, that he would treat you any differently than he treats the others. No matter what he said, you knew deep down that he didn’t love you. He just wanted to get you weak, groggy, and docile so he could take off your clothes and hurt you. If you gave in, he would just hurt and abuse you until he got bored. He would tare off chunks of you to eat before you were nothing but bones.

You hear him moving around downstairs, putting the dishes in the sink before opening the fridge. You wonder what he’s doing, what he’s getting up to when you can’t see him. You can’t help it. You squirm on the bed as you hear him heading up the stairs again, looking over at the door as he enters.

He smiles softly when he sees you, his little bride, his sweet divine. “You’re squirming again, angel.”

“The handcuffs hurt,” You say.

Rafe sighs, chewing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want you to run, but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. You would have a much harder time submitting to him if your wrists were permanently rubbed raw. He pulls the key off of his neck, looped through an old necklace chain. “Lean forward, baby,” You lean forward, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he unlocks one wrist. He quickly pulls it away from the headboard before reattaching it to your wrist. You were still bound, still his, but he was hoping this would help you finally give in. “There we go. Is that better?”

You nod, relaxing your shoulders. It was still uncomfortable to have your hands behind your back, but this was light-years ahead of being trapped in his bed. “Much better.”

“You didn’t try to run.” He says.

You didn’t have time to run. “No, I didn’t.”

He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He presses your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “Good girl.” Your head spins. He smells so good, and he’s so warm, and fuck you missed being held. You lean against his chest, burying your face into his sternum. He kisses your head again before stroking your hair, one arm tight around your shoulders.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak when there’s a sudden pounding on the front door. Your breath hitches and your stomach drops. You look at him, at the confusion streaking across his handsome face. “Who is it?”

He clenches his jaw, his hands forming into fists and flexing. He walks over to the window, peeking through the curtain, looking down at the driveway.

Shit.

A Kildare County Sheriff’s Department squad car sits in his driveway, and he watches as two officers climb out, a thick manilla envelope in hand. Fuck. Fuck. “Stay here, baby,” He says, watching you as he walks back towards the door. “Just stay quiet, and I’ll take care of it, okay?”

You watch helplessly as he heads out of the room, stomping down the stairs.

He walks down the stairs, opening the front door to confront the cops. “Officers,” he says smoothly, holding back the dread that was growing in his chest. “How can I help you today?”

The officer on the left, L. Hughes according to his name tag, speaks first. “Mr. Cameron?”

“Yes. That’s me,” He says, forcing a smile on his face as he leans against the door frame. “May I ask what this is about, officer?”

Hughes starts to open the envelope. “We’re just doing some rounds, sir. Handin’ these out,” he pulls out a large stack of 8 by 11s. He takes a sheet off the top and hands it to Rafe. “Do you know this girl?”

Rafe takes the paper before looking down at it. His fingers clench, his grip tightening. It’s a missing flyer for you, your smiling face staring at him. It had all of your info; name, age, height and weight, as well as the day you were last seen in Kildare, September 18th. The bottom of the flyer has the Sheriff’s Department phone number and email. Did Peterkin rat him out?

“No, I uh…” Rafe clears his throat. “Don’t recognise her. Sorry, guys.”

“She’s uh… from The Cut,” The officer on the right, J. Patrick, says. “Do you know anyone down there who’s uh… particularly violent?”

Rafe’s grip tightens. He could easily point them in the direction of JJ and John B, hell, maybe even Pope would go down too. “I mean, a few of ‘em, yeah. They can get pretty aggressive. Thought she’s just missin’, though.”

“We’re hoping that’s the case,” Hughes says. “But you know… it’s been 9 months since she disappeared. People are starting to talk, rumours about this girl gettin’ killed. You sure you don’t recognise her?”

They know something. He’s sure of it. Rafe looks at the flyer again. “Nah, I don’t recognise her. I don’t really get to that side of the island very much.”

“Well, the thing is, Mr. Cameron,” Patrick says. “Is that we got an anonymous tip. They said that they were up here not too long ago, and they saw someone that looked a lot like her in your upstairs window. We’re just here to check it out.”

Rafe’s blood runs cold. What the hell? Peterkin didn’t rat him out, did she? He swallows thickly, clenching his jaw. “Alright, come on in then, but I guarantee you there’s nobody in the house but me.”

Fuck. Fuck. His plan was falling apart right before his eyes. He was just starting to break you down, and now you were going to be ripped away from him. He steps aside and lets the officers in, setting your missing person flyer on the table. He leads them upstairs, hands clenched tightly in a fist, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to lose you, he didn’t want the officers to even see you, his little rebel laying in the sun.

You’re still on the edge of the bed, listening. You stand up when you hear the officers coming, the beeps of their radios sounding so incredibly loud. Your legs shake as you stand in the middle of the room, frozen in place, clad in only one of Rafe’s t-shirts and a pair of panties.

You could escape. You could get out of here. You could go home, back to your family, back to JJ, John B, and Pope. You would be able to sleep in your own bed, and take a shower without having Rafe holding you, washing your body and hair for you as you cried and sobbed.

You could be free.

But you can’t do it. You don’t want to leave Rafe, and you don’t know why. He kidnapped you, kept you full of cocaine and benzos to keep you quiet and asleep your first few months here. He was hurting you, using you as a little pawn in his game. But you didn’t want to leave him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you couldn’t leave him behind when he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him.

Is he the one? Is he everything you’ve ever wanted?

Will you regret this?

The doorknob twists, and you suddenly crawl under the bed, the bed skirt cascading down the side to cover you.

The officers look around the room. Hughes takes a few glances around, Patrick’s back facing where you are, hiding underneath the bed. They look everywhere but underneath the bed, and Rafe’s heart pounds in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. Why were they here? Why were they doing this?

Rafe had to stay calm. He can’t lose you, he can’t. “See? Told you, it’s just me here.”

“Alright,” Hughes sighs. “Guess it was just a mistake. Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Cameron.” Their voices fade as they leave the room, and you lay under the bed, paralysed with fear. But was it because of Rafe, or because of the officers?

He walks them downstairs, saying goodbye before shutting and locking the door. He quickly heads back upstairs, watching through the window as the squad car drives away. He looks out the window again before walking over to the bed, kneeling down. “Come out, angel.”

He lifts the bed skirt as you crawl out, body shaking. “Are they gone?”

He reaches out, grabbing your shoulders and hoisting you up. “Yeah. They’re gone, baby.” He sighs, cupping your face. “You did so good hiding like that.”

You lean into his calloused palms. “Thank you.”

He feels his heart flutter when you lean into his hands, his fingers tracing over the smooth skin of your cheek and jaw. “You’re such a good girl, angel. I’m so proud of you.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think I wanna leave.”

Those words almost stop his heart, tears welling in his eyes. He’s wanted this, for you to admit that you wanted to stay with him, that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. “You-You want to stay?” He can’t help how small his voice sounds, the vulnerability leaking out of it.

You nod, burying your face in his shoulder.

He’s speechless, so shocked that this is actually happening, that he’s finally got what he’s been wanting this whole time. He doesn’t hesitate to snake his arms around you, holding you close and burying his face in your hair, his breathing shaky. “You’re serious, angel? You don’t want to leave? You want to stay with me?”

You nod again. “Yeah, Rafey.”

He loves when you call him that, a whine of pleasure building in his throat. He nuzzles his face in your neck, kissing you sweetly. “Oh god, baby. You can’t imagine how happy that makes me. Thank you, baby, thank you so much. I’ve been trying so hard for so long, thank you.” He murmurs against your skin, his heart feeling light and happy, like he could finally breathe.

You knew you were betting on a losing dog. You would never make it out of this house, but maybe you could live with that.

Rafe would always find you anyway.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

this will be the last part, but i have more rafe fics on the way!

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @magicalflowerstranger (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my obx taglist here!

#keikiwrites #f!reader #obx #obx fic #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe fic #rafe obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx rafe #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks rafe #outer banks rafe cameron #tw: kidnapping #tw: stalking

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jallerentrags · 1 year ago

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Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

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The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, whose hands were balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

#james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter imagine #regulus black twin!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader

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nvirskies · 1 year ago

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sand - c. la rue

idea taken from one of @star-girl69 's asks about married clarisse and immediately went to think about how the vast majority of greek demigods didn't get to live past their 20's or even teen years... and the survivor's guilt that would come with being one of the few lucky enough to live longer.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, traumatic nightmare flashbacks, descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood + war, spoilers for TLO, set after both reader and clarisse leave CHB about 6-8 years into the future, google translated Greek term of endearment, crying, survivor's guilt, platonic RueGard, ooc Clarisse, she's matured more over time and more articulate with her feelings and words

summary: clarisse wakes up from a particularly bad nightmare in the middle of the night, reader comforts her through a breakdown

wife!fem!demigod!reader x wife!clarisse la rue

word count: 2.2k

καρδιά μου (kardiá mou) - my heart

Η καρδιά μου είναι η καρδιά σου (I kardiá mou eínai i kardiá sou) - my heart is your heart

"but you have more pieces of me than than desert has sand, and I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand" sand, alchemical: vol. 1, dove cameron

taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @azrielsdiary @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni

Greek demigods fell in love hard and fast with an unmatched intensity. They normally didn’t live long enough to even envision themselves in their adult lives, and why would they? Every day was a struggle to stay alive with monsters coming in from all angles and quests most didn’t come back from.

And that was why, as soon as the two of you graduated high school, Clarisse got down on a knee and proposed with the knowledge that you were the one she would want to spend the rest of her life, however long or short, with.

When you two had graduated college, the next thing in the books was to make it official in the courthouse, and that was what you had done. No extravagant party or ceremony, just a quiet day in the courthouse and a night in to celebrate.

But no matter how far the two of you ran from Camp Half-Blood, the nightmares never went away, never got better. As the years passed, more of the people you had considered friends died. One after the other, falling like cursed dominos, helplessly standing by as they all tumbled down.

Soon, the nightmares became more about the people that were lost than the monsters themselves. Nightly plagues of searingly painful memories from watching the life drain from so many demigods’ eyes burned themselves in both of your psyches.

All you could do was hope Charon would be kind enough to ferry them across the Styx without his payment of a silver coin.

And tonight certainly hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary with the two of you and your limbs interlaced in a protective embrace while sleep claimed your minds, as if the both of you could protect each other from the monsters both in and outside.

Your head, nestled into her chest. Her deep, rhythmic breathing made your hair flutter ever so slightly as she exhaled. Her arms, wrapped loosely around your waist, hands not-so-sneakily under the baggy shirt of hers you had stolen to wear as pajamas for the night. It was all perfect. Too perfect.

You would be damned fools to think that peace would last for so long. Demigods didn’t get peace, they didn’t get tranquility, and they especially didn’t get uninterrupted domestic bliss.

Unbeknownst to you, Clarisse’s face contorted into one of distress. Her arms pulled you in closer subconsciously as the all too familiar face of Morpheus greeted her with a sly smirk on his face in her dreams.

In moments, she was transported back to the Battle of Manhattan.

She was seventeen again.

Blood was everywhere. Abandoned weapons lay on the floor, the hands that once gripped them tightly, now loose and limp. Shrill screams echoed throughout the air, all cut short by gut-wrenching sounds of fatal injury. Metal cut through flesh. Acid burnt through metal. Flames licked and greedily consumed anything and everything as fuel.

Her feet felt heavy, her hands numb. She could do nothing but stand and watch it all unfold before her own eyes, forced to relive the carnage and devastation that had ripped through Manhattan on that fateful day.

Morpheus’ voice whispered in her right ear, the sound of it sending an uneasy chill down her spine. “Daughter of Ares. A fitting dream, no? Your father must have been proud of you for the way you fought after… well, I’ll let you relive that, too.” Before she could blink, she was transported to the moment right after Silena had been sprayed by the Lydian Drakon.

Clarisse was too late. She had always been too late.

She was back on her knees, choking and weeping bitterly as Silena lay in her arms, watching as life slowly left her once-lively eyes.

What kind of a warrior even was she? So weak that she couldn’t even protect her friend? Too weak to protect the girl who had adorned her armor and led her siblings into battle?

Just as Clarisse reached out to touch Silena’s face to wipe away the one mark of smudged eyeliner that the Aphrodite girl normally would never have even allowed to happen in the past, she was jerked back to consciousness, eyes flying open and arms almost crushing your sleeping form momentarily as she came to.

No longer was she in Manhattan, instead sheltered in the familiarly adorned walls of your shared bedroom. Upon the walls hung framed pictures of joyous times past and her sword collection, among other things.

Familiar faces stared back at her, some faces that would never age again. Immortalized memories of times that would never happen again. Everyone was dead or scattered across the globe.

A particular picture caught Clarisse’s eye. It was a portrait of Silena that she had commissioned one of the Apollo kids to draw for the daughter of Aphrodite’s seventeenth birthday.

She never lived to see that day.

Her eyes locked with Silena’s in the drawing for a moment, and that moment was one too much as hot tears began to prick in the corners of her eyes.

She had inadvertently woken you up with the way her arms tightened around your waist in a near vice grip, slowly coming to your senses. No longer were her breaths slow and rhythmic, their steadfast pattern replaced by one that was erratic and shallow. The once-steady thumping cadence of her heart as it beat in her chest was now quickened, all of which you could hear with your head having been nestled into her chest.

Craning your head to look up at her, you were greeted with the sight of Clarisse desperately trying to silently blink back tears and control her own breathing.

Hurriedly, you pushed yourself up off her chest and tugged the blankets off the two of you before sitting down on her lap. You took note of the way her hands had never left your waist, holding onto you as if she were drowning and you were the last life ring thrown out.

It wasn’t anything you and Clarisse hadn’t dealt with before. The nightmares had been a part of your lives as far back as you could remember, it just came with the territory of being a demigod. But they never got any easier as time went on.

She watched silently with eyes brimming with unshed tears, pleading wordlessly with you to do something, anything to make it all go away.

“Let’s switch, yeah? You can lay on me and completely cover me if you want, love,” you offered up, a melancholy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Wordlessly, she nodded and you slipped off her lap, laying back where she had just been moments ago.

Gently patting your chest, you motioned for her to rest her head on it, knowing that the rest of her body would soon follow, completely engulfing your form with hers. After she had positioned herself, her arms snaked around your waist again as she simply held you for a few moments, her face pressed into your chest as tears slowly soaked into your shirt.

One hand reached out to gently run along the length of her back, the motion meant to soothe. A few beats passed in silence before you spoke in a hushed whisper, the bedroom devoid of sound beyond the two of you breathing in tandem with each other.

“You hear that, love? That’s my heart,” you murmured softly, craning your neck to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “It’s beating, beating for you. Η καρδιά μου είναι η καρδιά σου.”

She didn’t respond beyond releasing another shaky sob into your chest and tightening her grip around your body, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t need her to talk just yet.

“You’re also η καρδιά μου, you know that, right? My heart, my wife, my love, my everything. And I’m yours. Entirely yours, and I”m not going anywhere.” You craned your neck again to press another kiss against the crown of her head, hand never stopping its path of running gently along the length of her back.

“I would go down to the depths of Tartarus for you. I would challenge Hades himself to a fight if it meant I had even a glimmer of a chance in getting you back.”

Never once did you try to rush her into talking or shushing her tears. You knew her better than you knew yourself, and giving her time to let everything out was the best thing you could do for her at the moment.

You were her safe space, the one woman that she could let her walls down around. She wasn’t Ares’ star daughter in your arms, she was just Clarisse. No expectations dangling over her head, just open arms and understanding.

After another few quiet moments, she finally spoke up in between half-choked sobs, whispering so quietly that her voice was nearly inaudible, “Silena… Manhattan… should have been able to save her,” before letting her face fall back down onto your chest, releasing another pained cry.

“She’s gone- a-and everyone else too- why me?”

Her question left you speechless, mouth partly opened in an attempt to come up with a reassuring response, but nothing seemed to come to mind immediately. It was rare for this to happen, as you normally had just the right words at the top of your tongue, weaving them as Arachne once wove tapestries on her loom.

“They’re all gone and- and- ”

“Shh, love…” you cut her off, gently pulling her head up to look her in the eyes, your other hand leaving her back to wipe the tears that were still streaming down her cheeks with the pad of your thumb. “Please, don’t go back into that self-sacrificial spiral. Talk to me, tell me what the dream was about?”

She only shook her head in response, unwilling to divulge details of the memory that had shattered your night of otherwise perfect proportions.

Deflating back on top of you, she whispered, “They’re all gone, and we’re one of the only ones remaining. It was like every time another one of them died, that small part of myself that I gave to them died as well.”

Her arms that were wrapped around your waist tightened for a moment before going limp along with the rest of her body as she lay atop you, her head pressed against your chest.

“Love…” you began softly as one of your hands found its way to her head and carded gently through her curls. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. None of it was your fault. We didn’t ask to be born, to be thrown into this mess of a world and tossed around like pawns in the gods’ game of chess with our lives.”

“We didn’t ask for this life, and we were so young at the time. For fuck’s sake, we were only seventeen- we hadn’t even made out yet. We hadn’t graduated high school yet, there were so many things we couldn’t control.

“None of it was your fault, I promise you. You were so brave, and you did everything you could.” She stayed silent as you spoke, the only sounds coming from her were the soft, shaky breaths as she sniffled and burrowed her face further into your shirt.

“I can’t explain to you why so many things had to happen, that’s up to the Fates. I can’t give you the pieces of yourself back that you lost when we kept losing everyone,” you murmured whilst your hands kept on with their idle motions.

It shattered your heart to give her such an incomplete answer when you knew it was tearing her apart inside to live with it all, but there was nothing you could do beyond offer solace and comfort. “And for that, I am so, so sorry. But the one thing I can do is keep the piece you’ve granted me to keep, safe and sound.”

She only nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak in fear of her own vulnerability. Her tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn’t care. All that was important was that Clarisse was here, in your arms, and slowly calming down.

Clarisse knew just as well as you did that everyone had done the best they could with the circumstances given, and that the loss affected you just as deeply. But she didn’t dig into that, it would be a can of worms to open for another time, another sleepless night where your own troubles caught up with you after running from them for so long.

And so, the rest of the night stretched on into early morning, the two of you half-awake, seeking silent solace in each other until sunlight crept into the bedroom through the cracks of the curtains the next day.

The two of you might have been running from your trauma like runners to a marathon, but at least you were running hand-in-hand with matching strides.

#🖋️ nvir writes #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv #im not sorry #maybe i am #no im not

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jingle-bella · 9 months ago

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Ah sad, but i hope your other commitments were just as fun and thrilling? Right?! They're one of my faves to wear and walk for. Canada huh? Now you got me curious!

Unfortunately I've been busy with work and other committments, otherwise I would have loved to go. Ugh, I love Saint Laurent, their stuff is so elegant and beautiful. Yeah, I've been working in Canada for the past few months on a new streaming project. I'm really excited about it.

#c: dove cameron

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carifletchcrs · 11 months ago

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You know what we need to do? A double date, and just release sapphic chaos wherever we decide to do it at. Sounds like the best plan I've ever had. @dovenotorious

#( c: dove cameron. )

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 2 years ago

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Boyfriend

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: Inspired by the song 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Fingering, Oral, Praise, Sub Wanda/Dom Reader, Praise Kink, Soft, Confessions, Minor Vision/Wanda

General Master List

W/c- 1.8k

Your eyes scanned the room once again only to be drawn back to the figure you were trying to avoid. You watched her tap the back of her phone impatiently, her eyes glancing up to check the room for him. Her lip was caught between her lips as her green eyes flickered between anger and disappointment while still scanning the room for a certain android. You couldn’t understand how someone could ever leave her alone, couldn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated. A wave of jealousy washed over you again reminding you of why you were trying to avoid her. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the feeling of want for her. You wanted her to know how special she was, how amazing she was, how brave she was, how wanted she was but he was still there. He just kept disappointing her over and over again and you just wished she would realise she deserved better.

After a finishing your drink, you noticed a figure in a black dress moving, instantly grabbing your attention. Her eyes glossed over and you saw the disappointment in her face as she tried to manoeuvre her way through the crowd of dancing people. You decided to move after her and just as she reached the doors to leave you grabbed her wrist.

“Hey Wanda?” you softly said making her turn around to see who had taken a hold of her wrist. Her body immediately relaxed when she saw it was you who stopped her.

“Hey,” she replied back, a small smile emerging on her face.

“Care to dance?” you say while offering your hand out for her to take. She gracefully placed her hand in yours causing a smile to appear on your face as she lead you to the dance floor.

Her arms lazily wrapped themselves around your neck as you placed your hands on her waist. Your bodies moved in sync with the music, her hips swaying in an almost hypnotising way as the music started to speed up. Her jet black dress hugged her figure leaving no room for imagination and the slit at her thighs set a throb between your thighs. The alcohol from earlier kicked in as the music picked up giving you a confidence boost to spin her around so her back was flush against your front. Your arm wrapped itself around her waist more securely as her head leaned back to rest against your shoulder. Piercing green eyes met your own before they glanced down to stare at your lips. You moved your mouth to whisper against her ear whilst your hips still moved to the music, her body now grinding against yours.

“I could be a better boyfriend then him,” your voice low and raspy. Her breath hitched and she move her head to look at you, her arm coming up behind her to hold you in place. Slowly, you lowered your head so your lips were ghosting hers, “I could do the shit that he never did.” You tear your eyes away from her lips and back to her eyes to see her pupils blown and staring at you with a hunger. “If I could give you some advice, I would leave with me tonight,” you mumbled before she crashed her lips to yours. Wanda moved so her body faced yours so she could pull you closer and press her lips back onto yours. Your hands moved to her lower back as you pulled her body flush against yours. She moaned into your mouth at the contact and broke off the kiss to pant against your lips. You moved your mouth to press hot open mouthed kisses along her neck but stopped when you felt her pull away. Her hand grabbed your own before she dragged you across the room to the exit.

The two of you made it to the elevator of the compound where you pinned her against the wall. A gasp left her lips as you picked her up so she could wrap her legs around your waist, her core pressed up against your tone stomach as you pushed her even more into the elevator wall. Her mouth moved against yours as you ran your tongue along her bottom lip, seeking entrance that she happily gave to you. A groan escaped you as her hands threaded through your hair, occasionally tugging your head back so she could kiss you better. The sound of the doors opening didn’t stop you as you just carried her off the wall and walked towards the room of your door. However you didn’t make it to your door as you pinned her up against the wall once again, this time however to mark her neck. A loud moan echoed around the empty hallway as she bucked her hips against your stomach, the burning feeling between her thighs too much.

“Please,” she whispered out with her head thrown back. You hastily moved off the wall to find your door before placing her down. Your hands fumbled with the lock and Wanda wasn’t helping by pushing her body back against yours, her teeth scraping your pulse point and hands scratching down your back through your suit jacket. Eventually, you got the lock causing both of you to stumble through the door, her body still clinging onto yours. “Fuck,” she moaned as you kissed down her neck and your hands teased the back of her thighs. “Bedroom,” she said in between kisses, “Now. Please.” You smirked into the kiss as you lead her through your apartment and into your bedroom.

You pushed her onto the bed and hovered over her as her hands pushed your jacket off your shoulders. Your hands glided down her body as you pulled your mouth away from her to make sure she was ok with this.

“If you want to stop,” you say softly as she gazes up into your eyes, “We’ll stop. I want you to be comfortable,” you say with a gentle smile making her kiss you once again. The kiss was slow to start with as you moved to unfasten her dress, the black fabric now becoming loose around her body. Becoming impatient, Wanda used her magic to unbutton your shirt and quickly shoved it off your body to reveal your black lace bra and toned abdomen. Swiftly, you removed her dress leaving her just in her red lace panties as her dress didn’t need a bra. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered before pecking her lips and moving down her body. You kissed down her collar bone teasingly before taking a nipple in your mouth and using your hand to roll the other. Sinful noises filled the room as you licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh, her hands digging into your shoulder as her hips moved helplessly under you. With a pop, you let go of her nipple and moved to the other whilst your hand trailed south. A visible wet spot was seem on the red fabric making you smirk around her breast. “Look at you,” you husked out while moving down to kiss along her stomach, occasionally nipping to leave a small red mark. “So wet for me ,” you ran your fingers along the inside of her thighs, her body tensing and trembling with anticipation under your touch. “So desperate,” you mocked as you heard her whimper at the feeling of you circling her clit through the fabric.

Suddenly, you moved and ripped the fabric off her making her moan at the show of strength. You kissed her inner thighs before moving to lick at her clit. You circled the sensitive bundle of nerves before kissing and sucking at it. Her back arched at the pleasure and her hands moved to grip your hair to hold you in place. You moaned into her core at the taste of her and moved your hand so your fingers could tease her entrance.

“Please,” she begged as you gathered her wetness on your fingers. “Please just fuck me.” You thrusted a finger into her making her moan into the room as her head rolled backwards to rest against the mattress. You felt her walls pulse around you and quickly built up the pace whilst continuing to suck at her clit. You pumped your finger in at a brutal pace before slipping another finger in. Her walls tightened around you and her breath became ragged telling you she was close. “Fuck-I-Please!” she whimpered as her hips bucked against your hands and face.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” you rasped out before curling your fingers just at the right stop. Her whole body tensed and her thighs tightened around your head as she came with a string of moans. Slowly, you calmed down your movements as her body trembled from a powerful orgasm, your hands now rubbing soothing circles around her waist. You moved back up her body and pressed your lips against hers making her moan at the taste of herself on your tongue. The kiss gradually died down and Wanda moved to bury her face in the crook of your neck as you kissed the top of her head.

When you realised Wanda was falling asleep under you, you moved to go to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. You quickly cleaned her up before moving to lay next to her in bed. Sleepily, she looked up at you and gave you a small kiss before moving to cuddle against your chest.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt a weight on top of you and looked down to see the redhead curled up against your side, her head resting on your chest. You watched how her chest slowly rose and fell with each steady breath and how her face looked so calm and peaceful. You carefully moved to run your hand up and down her back making her let out a small sigh. Around ten minutes later you felt her wake up and moved slightly so you could see her.

“Morning beautiful,” you whispered making her giving you a lazy smile as her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning,” she whispered back whilst moving to cuddle more into you. “You stayed,” she mumbled at the base of your neck as you threaded your hands through her hair.

“Of course I stayed,” your voice was soft and gentle as you moved to look down at her. “I meant what I said last night. I could be better than him. I really like you Wanda and I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” You nervously watched for her reaction just to see her bite her bottom lip and smile at you.

“I really like you too,” she confessed quietly before moving to straddle your waist. “How about I show you how much I like you?” she purred out with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

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