Art Deco

maneater;

pairing- neighbor!james potter x reader
warning(s)-18+ content, stalker behavior, darkish themes but reciprocated. (let me know if i should add more)

he was feral. you were standing by the window, your curtains folded, stripping away every piece of clothing you had. the moonlight reflected on your skin. you were a goddess, a descend from heaven in his eyes. you were a beauty he wanted only for himself. heat crept up to his neck when you turned around, revealing your breasts. he wondered how you would look if he marked the skin, of places only he could see. he wondered how your skin would feel against his lips. he thoughts led him to a place, of transcending heaven. it was sheer hell, when his hand unconsciously travelled to his crotch. he could feel the heat radiating off his body. he bit his lip, as guilt pooled within the pit of his stomach.

it was wrong he thought, so wrong. but it felt so right when he slid down his pants, sliding his hand on his cock. it felt heavy within his own grip. and for a moment, he could swear you looked into his eyes. of course he wouldn't miss the fire in your eyes. the same eyes he loved, lusted over for. he imagined how you'd look up at him when you sucked him off. he imagined how his cock would look sliding between your breasts.

he felt the rush of hormones firing within him. it felt wrong, but he couldn't resist you. he couldn't resist the thoughts that clogged his head. you made him crazy, drove him into a hell of sheerness of lust and ecstasy. the heat crept within his skin when he felt his orgasm escape, painting his pants.

'shit,' he whispered, as his eyes crawled over to your window. the curtains were drawn, the lights were out.

*****

the bed was stuffy. the air was too warm on his skin. he was breathless. it was as if a weight pressed upon him. the sleep that had crossed his head was slowly escaping.

'come on james, show me those pretty eyes of yours,'

was he dreaming? he didn't want the sleep to escape him now...

the weight now pressed down on his sides. he felt something on his hair, a soothing sensation. he didn't want it to end. he closed his eyes tighter, trying to escape back to sleep.

trying.

a familiar flowery scent infused with a musk of vanilla haunted him. it was so near, yet so far. it was his mind, playing dirty tricks on him. it was his thoughts. it was your scent. he'd caught up on it when he'd helped you pick up your fallen groceries. you were about to fall on broken eggs, but he'd caught you, feeling your body through your clothes. you'd given him a quiet thank you and a smile, and he thought his heart would've broken with how you stared at him.

'come on, wake up baby,'

his eyes fluttered open, as he escaped his sleep. his eyes widened. it wasn't out of fear, rather about how you were on top of him, straddling his chest. you had a wicked smile on your face, a fervorous lust in your eyes. it felt like a dream come true. your fingers were buried in his curls. his lips parted, and he whispered your name. it was sweet from his tongue.

'you've been a very naughty boy james,' you whispered into his ear. your hot breathe fanned over his face and over his tender features. his heart fluttered, as your hips moved towards his crotch. you sucked on your fingers,

'answer me honey, hmm?' you pushed your fingers into his mouth. his lips wrapped around your fingers, as he sucked deliriously on them, trying to feel your skin on his tongue. you moved down, now straddling his waist.

'i-i'm sorry,'

you stared at him with malice in your eyes. throwing him a dirty, lopsided smirk, you started grinding your hips against his. soft moans left his mouth paired with feeble whimpers.

'are you going to be a good boy? are you going to behave yourself james?' his whimpers increased. he was putty in your hands. he'd be on his knees for you. he'd do anything you'd tell him to. just to be your good boy.

because you were his drug, a poison to be addicted to.