Clerrie One Shots

It's Never The Last Time •|Smut|•

Mentions of Zerrie.

She doesn't even look at me. As though avoiding my gaze as she walks by will write away every sin she'd committed at my side. But no, they still reside in the forefront of my mind, a temptation that haunts me every moment of my waking hours. I know in her eyes I was merely the dirt on her heel, the imperfection she never truly could cover with the makeup she applies ever so carefully in the mirror each morning. I'd watched her do just that several times before in an almost businesslike manner. Sweep it under the rug, conceal the love bites. At least she would never be able to hide every one of the marks I'd left on her perfect body.
I could feel my mouth grow dry just at the thought of her soft milky skin. My hands clenched at my sides, knuckles turning white. I yearned to stride after her, push her against the wall and show everyone exactly who she actually belonged to. But knowing her deviously manipulative ways, she'd cry rape and fib her way out of a complicated situation. I'd end up in prison and she'd be laughing all the way down the aisle to marry him.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, feeling blood pool around my teeth an instant later. Even the mere thought of him touching her, calling her his, it made me angry, sick and murderous all at once. I'd never loathed someone as much as I loathed him. I never let myself think of his name as that made it seem he deserved to be remembered. Which he most certainly didn't.

Once upon a time I didn't think he was a complete douche. Foolishly I'd thought he was somewhat cool. When you are shoved together with the same people constantly, you attempt to make the best of a grim situation. At the end of the day I got to perform to hoards of screaming girls who would kill to be in the position shewas in. But none of them were her. It was the fact that flashed ever constantly in my mind like a neon lit sign demanding to be seen.
None of them were her.
I always went after the girls that looked like her. Those bright blue eyes and wavy blonde locks. But no matter how similar their features were, none of them screamed the way she did when I was buried deep inside of her heat. None of them arched their back like she did whenever I reached the right place inside of her with my skilful fingers.
No.
None of them were Perrie Edwards.
And that was the truth I would burn in hell for.

--

I heard her footsteps sound down the hall, and I shifted in my position standing patiently near the door waiting for her to appear. The doorknob rattled and pulled open, the rusted hinges screaming in protest. It was a dingy place at best, but it was discreet and if you had enough cash no one asked questions. It was surprising how quickly morals fly out the window when you wave a certain amount of bank notes in their faces.
Their greed was their downfall and my best weapon.
"Perrie." I murmured and gave her a moment to put her bag down before I launched myself at her, needing to taste her lips, feel her skin once more. It was a twisted addiction that I couldn't shake, no matter what I'd tried to wean myself off with. Now I'd simply given up, figuring if I was going to hell I might as well fuck up a whole lot of other people as well so I wasn't alone in the afterlife.
She froze for a moment before sinking into the embrace, her lips meeting mine with equal vigour. I slid my hands down her curved form, squeezing her behind before hoisting her up against the wall, so she had little option left but to wrap her legs around my hips. I hissed into her mouth as our lower halves were pressed firmly together, the pressure almost teasing on my already hardening member.
"Fuck." I groaned against her mouth as her finely manicured nails clawed down my shoulder blades and I could already tell it would form track marks down my back. "Stop teasing." I growl against her when she pushes her hips into mine. She smirks cockily against my lips and I pull back to nip at her neck, hard enough that she squeals and slaps my back.
"No marks!" She hissed and I glance up to meet her blue orbs. She glared down at me. "Zayn's already getting suspicious." She murmurs, and I tighten my grip on her. I feel her wince.
"Let him get suspicious. He fucks enough floozies as it is." I spat in response. I knew for a fact he'd cheated on her multiple times, and then shoved a ring on her finger in an attempt to stop her doing the same. She brought it like a fool. For such a smart and beautiful girl she was an absolute dipshit when it came to Zayn Malik.
"Yeah, well he isn't the gold digging fame whore is he?" She replies icily. Of course she always let that insecurity get to her. That she wasn't good enough for Zayn. It was pathetically ironic considering he'd screwed her over so many times before she finally snapped and let me drunkenly kiss her half a year ago. Sure, she wasn't a saint but she was a hell of lot more innocent than her fiancé would ever dream to be.
"Take off the fucking ring." I hissed at her, ignoring her question. I didn't want to mull over deluded fans and social media hate. I wanted to fuck her and I didn't want the band on her finger being in place when I did. She met my gaze challengingly and for a moment I thought she was going to dare to refuse me.