Summary: She is his obsession, and he's determined to have her. (One-sided Flare.)
Disclaimer: Don't own Degrassi. 'Nuff said.
Author's Note: I... don't know how to explain this one.
By: Lady Azura
She was his obsession.
Even before emo boy came along and swept her off her feet — with a witty remark here and a playful smirk there — she'd had his attention. But back then, it was nothing more than a simple crush — a fantasy. They'd never officially crossed paths until his junior year, and when they finally did, Mark Fitzgerald knew that he had to have her. There was no one else he wanted — had ever wanted — as badly as her.
When he was away, locked up so that his behaviour could be corrected, all he could think about was her big blue eyes and her perfect, plump lips. All he could think about was her, in general, and how he was going to win her heart — and when Father Gregory stepped into his life, the answer became that much clearer. Intimidation and blackmail hadn't been exactly successful, although dropping the walls he'd spent years building and letting her see that side of him — the side he thought he'd long since left behind — had seemed to work in his favour, if only for a couple of minutes. Then emo boy had to go and fuck that up.
So rather than scoff at the Chaplain, Fitz listened to what he had to say, about God and about Jesus, and about how to be a better person. Admittedly, some of it was quite fascinating, but in the end, it all came back to Clare Edwards and how he could get into her head.
He was eventually released from Juvie, earlier than expected, due to good behaviour. The first thing he did was get a job at the Dot, the local "hang out" where he knew he'd run into her.
After a few days, he decided to seek her out himself, and went to Degrassi. His first attempt to talk to her was unsuccessful, thanks to her boyfriend, and so he waited until she was alone before approaching her. She was terrified at first, and he didn't blame her since the last time she'd seen him, he'd cornered her boyfriend with a knife. But before he could explain himself, emo boy drove up and Fitz took off before he was spotted, leaving a confused Clare behind.
Then, low and behold, they met again, at his work. She confronted him, demanded to know why he chose to work there of all places, and he came clean. Sort of. While it was in walking distance of his home, and Father Gregory did recommend him, he left out the part where she was right about him knowing that they'd run into each other. He didn't want to sound like a creep, after all. He'd already scared her once. He needed to gain her trust.
He told her about how he'd changed; how he'd become a better person since Juvie; how he'd found God and how he needed her forgiveness. Naturally, she was sceptical, but being the person that she was, she forgave him. Then her boyfriend stormed in, interrupting their conversation — which, conveniently enough, was about him — and Fitz tried to apologize. For a split second, emo boy was taken aback, but then he glared at him, and Fitz had a feeling that he could see right through to what his true motivations were — the perceptive little shit. He watched as the couple had their little disagreement, and when Clare glanced over at him, seemingly torn, before she left with emo boy, he knew then that his plan had started to take effect.
It was only a matter of time.
Some nights later, he arrived on her doorstep. Needless to say, she hadn't been expecting him, and before she could protest, he let himself in.
"What are you doing here?" She demanded, trying to keep up a brave front — but the way she wrapped her sweater around herself and eyed him warily told him that she was nervous.
"Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing." He answered coolly.
She pursed her lips.
"I'm fine." She said tightly. "Is that all?"
Fitz chuckled, shaking his head. "Not even close."
He stepped forward, extending his hand, wanting to caress her face and feel her soft curls under his fingertips, but Clare refused him, stepping out of his reach and folding her arms protectively over her chest.
"I think you should leave." She told him.
"Why?" He asked, tilting his head. "Afraid Eli will come barging in, like he always does?"
Her silence was all the answer he needed.
"Eli doesn't deserve you."
Clare narrowed her eyes. "I think that's up for me to decide."
Fitz quickly backtracked.
"What I mean… is that you deserve someone who actually understands you."
"What are you talking about?"
He took a step towards her again. "Me and you… we have a spiritual connection. I get you, Clare."
"I don't even know you!" Clare cried, throwing him an incredulous look. "Listen, I'm glad you found God… but that doesn't mean that we're suddenly friends."
It amazed him how naïve she could be.
"Who said I wanted to be your friend?"
When Clare furrowed her brow in confusion, Fitz's smirk grew and he seized the opportunity to take another step forward. As predicted, Clare backed away from him once more, only this time she met another obstacle — the wall behind her. Before she could react, Fitz had her caged between his body and the wall. She couldn't escape him, and gazed up at him with wide, frightful eyes. His expression softened somewhat, and he was about to offer her reassuring words — telling her not to be afraid, promising her that he wouldn't hurt her, and so forth — but then she put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. He frowned, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to her sides.
A whimper escaped her lips.
He pressed his body to hers, releasing her wrists to cradle her face, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb. He kissed her forehead and cheeks, and as much as he wanted to kiss her lips he avoided them, only to jump to her neck instead. Clare stilled as he peppered feather-light kisses to her skin, pausing when he reached the junction between her neck and shoulder, and sucked.
"Stop…" she whispered, but she made no move to make him stop. She didn't attempt to shove him away like she'd done before.
He ran his hand through her hair, twisting his fingers around her curls. They felt just as silky as he'd imagined.
Drawing back, Fitz focused attention on her face once again, but just as he was about to bring his lips to hers, she turned her head and he missed, catching her jaw line instead. He sighed, growing irritated, and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.
"Fine. I get it. You need time." He said, rolling his eyes.
"No, you don't get it. I want you to leave." She growled.
"Really?" Fitz drawled, cocking a brow. "For someone who wants me gone, you definitely didn't put up much of a fight when I was kissing here," he poked her forehead gently, "or here," then her cheeks, "or here." His fingertips grazed her neck, and Clare swallowed hard. "Was it because you're afraid of me, or… do I turn you on?"
Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Get out. I'm serious, Fitz. If you don't leave right now, I'll -"
"You'll what?" Fitz challenged.
Clare clenched her teeth, and he gave her a smug grin before taking a step back to observe her appearance; her matted hair, sticking to her face, and the way her shirt, now damp due to their close proximities, clung to her curves. Without warning he reached up and cupped her breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. She stared at him in shock, and he licked his lips, placing his free hand over the other and squeezing them both gently. She arched into his touch, closing her eyes, and Fitz smirked, feeling her nipples harden under his palms.
She liked it.
She wanted it.
"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" He taunted, leaning in and kissing the area just below her ear. She shuddered as his tongue darted out and traced the shell of her ear. "Can I have you?" He murmured.
"No…" Clare mewled as she squirmed.
She was a stubborn little vixen, he mused. Abandoning one breast, he slid his free hand down her body and over her belly. In seconds, he'd managed to unbutton her jeans and slip his hand inside. Clare's thighs clamped together, but Fitz forced them apart before pushing the fabric of her panties aside to touch her dripping folds. A sense of triumph washed over him as he felt just how wet she already was. Her hands clutched his shoulders, bottom lip caught between her teeth as his fingers explored her.
"Like that… don't you, Clare?"
Clare shook her head frantically. "N-no… st-stop…"
"I don't think God would appreciate you lying like that, Clare." Fitz admonished playfully, running his middle finger along her slit. The girl in front of him whimpered, jerking her hips. "Be honest, Clare… you want this. You wouldn't be this wet if you didn't."
"A-Ah — hah…" Her breath hitched as he grazed her clit with his thumb, before removing his hand altogether. Her eyes flickered open just as he knelt in front of her, tugging her jeans and underwear to her knees in the process and exposing her to the cool air. "What…"
Before she could finish, his tongue was inside her. A sharp cry echoed throughout her living room as she fell back against the wall, her nails digging into his scalp as he gripped her hips and lapped at the bundle of nerves between her legs. She tasted sweet; he couldn't get enough of her, and plunged his tongue even deeper. Her whole body quivered uncontrollably, loud moans falling from her lips as he continued to go down on her, and had he not been holding her still, her knees would've already given out. He watched her through lidded eyes, taking in her flushed face and parted lips. The sight made him painfully hard, and just as she was about to come, he stopped and stood up.
He hurriedly unfastened his pants and freed his aching member, aligning himself with her entrance. Clare's eyes flew open and she went rigid. She was fighting a losing battle with herself, and after a few seconds, met his gaze.
"Be gentle… please…"
Fitz nodded, and pushed into her. Clare screamed when her hymen broke, digging her nails into his shoulders. She held back a choked sob as he drew back, then entered her again. After a few more slow thrusts, she relaxed a bit, and Fitz cupped her bottom and lifted her. Instinctively, Clare's legs wrapped around his waist and he swallowed the groan threatening to erupt from his throat as he entered her more deeply than before. He could hear her panting in his ear, and as her walls clenched around him, he knew he wouldn't last long. He sped up, thrusting faster and harder while Clare cried out, clinging to him like a lifeline as she neared her peak.
With one final thrust, Fitz exploded.
The sound of the front door slamming shut jolted Fitz from his slumber. He hissed as he sat up, drenched in sweat, every bone and muscle in his body aching. When he moved, he felt a familiar throbbing between his legs and lifted the sheets. He groaned, grabbing some tissues from his nightstand to clean himself up. When that was done, he tossed them into the trash and fell back with his arms folded behind his head.
One day, he would have her.
All he needed to do was get Eli out of the picture.
Then she'd be his for the taking.
His to kiss, his to hold, his to fuck and his to break.
I… have no idea where this came from, to be perfectly honest. I started out wanting it to be a bit on the dark side, but then it just… didn't turn out that way. Clare was kind of OOC, but then… it was all Fitz's dream, so… yeah.
Anyway, it's two in the morning now, so I'm gonna go to bed.
Hope you enjoyed.
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